A Series Of Mystery Short Stories
Hawk Theriot & Kristi Blocker Mysteries by Jim Riley
Series Excerpt
Hawk moved the boat to right outside the property line and tied it up on a young sapling along the bayou bank. He grabbed his assault weapon and inched up the edge of the clearing one step at a time, scanning the ground carefully before taking another. After forty-five minutes of searching, he saw a blue light on the ground ahead and could hear the theme to “Titanic”.
He spotted an iPhone partially hidden under some dead leaves and moss. He picked it up and it stopped ringing. When he hit the button, he saw it displayed the name of Kristi Blocker. He retrieved his backpack from the boat, packed it with boudin and bottled water, and set off to search for the missing girl.
The trail was faint. Only a track or two every ten or fifteen feet. Soon, those disappeared in the sloughs. In one of the widest, the tracks didn't come out directly across from where they entered. He walked down the far bank almost a quarter of a mile before he discovered where they exited the water. There he found a length of duct tape stuck to a palmetto leaf. The sticky side of the tape was clean except for a few faint hairs.
Following the trail for another hour and a half, he came to a small rise. The trail turned into a mesh of tracks going in circles. Darkness settled in on the vast swamp.
Hawk took his time setting up the pup tent, keeping a watch out on the surrounding area. He built a fire and pulled boudin from his backpack. While waiting for the embers to heat, he made a make-shift spit and used it to pierce one of the crawfish links lengthwise down the middle, and placed it over the edge of the fire. Soon, the seasoned boudin emitted an aroma that wafted over the swamp floor like a light fog. He picked up a second homemade spit, and pierced one of the shrimp links before hanging it over the burning coals.
“If you’re as hungry and thirsty as I think you might be, you’re welcome to share some of my boudin and water. I understand it’s some of the best in the world, but I can’t attest to that yet.” Hawk said without turning.
He heard her drop from one of the massive limbs in the tree behind him.
“If you move, I’ll shoot you. I’ve already killed one man and I swear on everything that is holy I will not hesitate to blow your head off too,” the feminine voice proclaimed.
Hawk didn’t turn to look at her, but kept rotating the boudin over the fire. “I’d prefer if you’d join me for dinner instead, Kristine. You’ve got to be hungry and thirsty by now.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Hawk Theriot. I’m with the United States Ranger Service and I’m looking for you. The sheriff found the boat you rented and a few people reported seeing you around T-Bob’s. You didn’t really kill a man, did you?”
“Why aren't you wearing a uniform?”
“To fit in better with the Basin folk. They tend to clam up when a uniform asks questions. Besides, I like jeans. I’ve got a badge if you’d like to see it.”
“How did you know where I was?”
“I figured if Treasury sent two agents down here, they'd be looking at a business, not individuals. The only businesses around are T-Bob's and the drill site. You weren't at T-Bob's. The sheriff told me about the accident.”
“There wasn’t any accident.”
“I’m sorry, Kristine. There was one. Both of your friends, or should I say coworkers died when the boat hit a cypress knee and then a tree. They found them dead at the scene.”
“I know something happened to them. I assumed they were dead.”
“The report I got is what I just told you. You’re saying that’s not what happened?”
“I don't know, but after what happened to me, I doubt it seriously. You said you’re a ranger and you’re looking for me. I'm not even sure I believe you just happened to show up.”
Hawk made a move to turn around.
“Don’t move. My .38 is aimed at your head.” Her voice, while trying to portray strength was squeaky and raspy.
“Rookie mistake. When you're trying to bluff the possession of a gun, never try to oversell it. Look, if you'll just lower your little fake pistol, I’ll get my ID and the badge out of my pocket.”
“Okay, but if you try anything I’m gonna shoot and then look at your ID. Are we clear?”
“Yes, ma’am. We'll do it your way.” He put down the spit and started to reach in his pocket. He heard her move, so he said in a calm voice, “I’m getting my ID.”
“Take it out and toss it back here over your shoulder. But first take your pistol out of the holster and lay it out on the ground. That’s it, slowly. No, not on that side. On your left side.”
Hawk did as she instructed, moving at a snail’s pace.
“If you don’t hurry this up,” he said, “this boudin will burn. I’m hungry even if you aren’t.”
“Fine, Ranger Theriot. But, I’m gonna hold both of the guns.”
“If I have this figured right, you don’t have a gun. If you did, you would have already asked me to turn around and face you. But you’re more than welcome to hold mine. Just as a matter of full disclosure, I also have an AK-47 strapped to my back sack. You’re welcome to that as well.”
“Move to the other side of the fire away from your gun.”
Hawk stepped around the fire and continued to face away from her.
Kristi picked up his Smith and Wesson .357 caliber revolver. Hawk heard her opening the cylinder to check to see how many rounds the gun had.
“It's loaded, if that's what you're checking.” he said.
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