But Not For Love, page 22
part #9 of Clint Wolf Series
“I’ve got an ambulance and backup coming,” she said, turning her attention back to the victim. “Julia here is going to be just fine…aren’t you?”
Julia’s face was twisted in agony, but she nodded anyway. “It hurts like hell, but I can still breathe, so I know he didn’t puncture my lung.” Julia glanced over at me and she frowned. “Oh, no, she got you, too.”
I stared down at the large ice pick protruding from my leg. “It could’ve been worse. He had the drop on me and was about to murder me. Had it not been for London, I’d be lying dead on your back patio right now.”
“Wait, I thought you said he.” Mallory glanced over her shoulder, not taking her hands off of the victim’s wounds. “It was Natasha Lee who tried to kill you.”
“What the hell is going on?” Susan’s voice startled me and I turned toward the sound. She was standing in the bedroom doorway with Britt Lucas, whose expression was somber. Susan’s eyes grew wide when she saw my leg and she rushed toward me. “Holy crap, Clint, there’s an ice pick in your leg!”
“It’s just a scratch.”
“But wait a minute,” Mallory interjected, “you said a man attacked you, but I saw Natasha Lee on the ground under the patio.”
I explained what had happened and watched in amusement as Susan and Mallory’s eyes widened. They both whistled when I was done.
“That’s some slick shit right there,” Mallory said. “But why was he doing all of this?”
“She’s doing it for her sister,” Julia Hebert said through the pain she was experiencing. “Or, rather, I should say he’s doing it for his sister. He told me a victim of domestic violence dropped charges against the man who killed his sister, so now he blames all women who drop charges against their husbands.”
“That’s the ultimate in hypocrisy,” Susan said. “He’s hurting the very women he claims he’s trying to protect.”
“I basically told him the same thing and that’s when he got really angry and attacked me,” Julia said. “I knew something was wrong when I tried to push him off. He felt much stronger than any woman I’d ever encountered. At the time, I thought she was a bodybuilder or something, but now I understand why. I never figured she was a he.”
Mallory nodded. “He definitely made a beautiful woman.”
We all laughed and Julia winced in pain from the bedroom floor. “Is the ambulance almost here?” she asked. “I need something for the pain.”
“They’re down the street.” Susan turned to me and put a hand on my shoulder. “We need to get you to the hospital so they can remove that thing from your leg. I don’t like it there.”
I smiled and followed her out the front door, trying hard not to limp as we walked. We reached the driveway just as the ambulance arrived, and one of the medics rushed toward me. I waved him off. “The real victim is inside,” I said. “Tend to her—I’ll be fine.”
The medic hesitated, but rushed forward when Mallory’s voice sounded over my radio’s speaker. “Where in the hell is that ambulance?” she hollered. “Tell them to get here now!”
As they rushed inside, Susan and I began the long trek to my Tahoe. She had ridden to the scene with Britt and now told me she would drive me to the hospital in my Tahoe. I started to object, but figured I wouldn’t win. I just nodded and followed along. We were almost to my vehicle when a white van bearing Bayou Home Repairs along the side panels pulled up. A man stepped lithely out wearing a telephone repairman outfit. I’d never met London Carter, but I knew it had to be him. The man was lean and he walked with a powerful gait. He held out a hand when we got close, and I shook it.
“I’m sorry about spraying you with blood and brain matter,” London said. “Mallory called earlier to tell me to set up as over-watch, and she told me to get in position as quickly as I could. I had just put glass on you when that woman came barreling out of the house and turned toward you. I saw that she was attacking you with an ice pick and your pistol was still in its holster, so I took the shot.” He pointed to my thigh. “Her downward momentum helped plant that spike in your leg. I’m real sorry about that.”
“Don’t be—you saved my life.”
London shrugged. “Maybe someday you’ll get to repay the favor.”
Before I could respond, Susan pulled on my arm as though she was escorting a prisoner. “Come on, Clint, I don’t want that thing in my leg any longer than it has to be. You two can catch up at the hospital.”
I grinned, loving the way she referred to my body as belonging to her. She was a strong woman who knew what she wanted and who wasn’t afraid to take charge—and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
London must’ve recognized the look in my eyes, because he nodded and said, “I’ve got a strong one at home, too.”
CHAPTER 45
Two weeks later…
It was Wednesday evening by the time I’d finished writing my report on Cassandra Billiot’s murder case. Mallory had called earlier in the week to let me know that all of the prints we’d recovered came back to Cassandra or Nikia, as did the DNA swabs, but one hair fiber hadn’t matched either of them. The lab technician had informed her that the hair wasn’t even human. After running more comparative tests, it was determined that the fiber matched the wig we’d recovered out at Julia Hebert’s residence—the same wig Walter Garner had been wearing while pretending to be Natasha Lee.
“He did a great job living as a woman,” Britt Lucas had said when Mallory and I met with her yesterday to review the case. “I saw him nearly every day and never suspected a thing.”
During Walter Garner’s autopsy, the coroner had removed a thick layer of expensive makeup that had been expertly applied to his face. According to Britt, “Natasha” always wore turtleneck shirts with long sleeves. She said it stayed cold in the DA’s office, so no one had ever questioned “Natasha’s” wardrobe choices when she’d come to visit.
Once we realized the lengths to which Walter would go to conceal his identity, we had sent messages to every law enforcement agency in the surrounding states, asking them to reevaluate their domestic homicides. That message had been sent out the day after London killed Walter, and, as of five o’clock today, we hadn’t heard of any new cases wherein he might be a suspect. The crime lab had been able to link his prints to the Mobile and Tallahassee cases, and those agencies were investigating Sheriff Ralph Chandler as a principal to murder. Britt Lucas was also considering charges against the sheriff, and I was in full support of that move.
I looked up when the door to my office opened. It was Susan and her breathing was labored. “I can’t wait until this baby comes,” she said. “I swear I’m hitting the gym the day I get back from the hospital.”
“Not if I can help it.” I stared at my beautiful wife and smiled wide. Our baby wasn’t due until the beginning of May, so I knew it would be a long wait. I also knew I would have to hear a lot of grumbling until then. Susan was as independent as they came and she hated not being able to do all of the things she used to do. “I’m going to love waiting on you hand and foot.”
“Well, if you hurry and finish that report, I might let you do some of that waiting when you get home.”
I nodded eagerly and turned back to my report. “I just have to proofread it real quick and then I’ll be heading home.”
Susan walked over and kissed my forehead before trudging off down the hall. I heard her telling the dispatcher goodnight. A few minutes later I heard the soft drone of the Tahoe engine firing up. The thought of her waiting at home alone for me was too much to take.
“To hell with it,” I said out loud. “I’ll finish reviewing this in the morning.”
I gathered up my things, shut down my computer, and headed for the door. While I couldn’t wait to be alone with Susan, I decided to stop at the cemetery in town before heading home. I needed to have a word with a young girl who had been buried there. It was not a conversation I relished having, but one that I felt was necessary.
The girl’s grave was easy to find. Not because I’d been there before, but because it was the only grave littered with balloons, flowers, and stuffed animals. I had heard that every kid in her school showed up for the funeral. By the looks of it, they all had—and they’d brought a gift with them.
It was especially dark between the tombs, but a nearby lamppost illuminated the girl’s picture. She was smiling and holding a puppy in the picture. She had to be at least three years younger than she was when I shot her, and it made me feel even more terrible. I frowned and I felt my eyes start to smart.
Taking a deep breath and blowing it out forcefully, I sank to my knees in front of the tomb. “I’m so sorry for shooting you,” I said quietly, scrubbing a tear from my eye as I wondered why life had to be so cruel, “but this is the last time I’ll be visiting you. I have to say goodbye and I have to put you out of my mind—forever.”
I stood to my feet and took a slow step backward. Yep, I had to put her out of my mind and never think of her again, because every time I thought of her, I wanted to dive into a bottle of vodka and drown myself. But that was no longer an option. I had a pregnant wife at home and a daughter on the way. They both needed me and—by God—I was going to be there for them.
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NOVELS BY BJ BOURG
Clint Wolf Mysteries
But Not Forgotten
But Not Forgiven
But Not Forsaken
But Not Forever
But Not For Naught
But Not Forbidden
But Not Forlorn
But Not Formidable
But Not For Love
But Not Forborne (Apr/May 2019)
Magnolia Parish Mysteries
Hollow Crib
Hollow Bond
London Carter Mysteries
James 516
Proving Grounds
Silent Trigger
Bullet Drop
Elevation
Blood Rise
Stand-Alone YA Mystery
The Seventh Taking
About the Author
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BJ Bourg is an award-winning mystery writer and former professional boxer who hails from the swamps of Louisiana. Dubbed the "real deal" by other mystery writers, he has spent his entire adult life solving crimes as a patrol cop, detective sergeant, and chief investigator for a district attorney's office. Not only does he know his way around crime scenes, interrogations, and courtrooms, but he also served as a police sniper commander (earning the title of "Top Shooter" at an FBI sniper school) and a police academy instructor.
Bourg’s debut novel, JAMES 516, won the 2016 EPIC eBook Award for Best Mystery, and BUT NOT FORGOTTEN was a finalist for the same award in 2017. Dozens of his articles and stories have been published in national magazines such as Woman's World, Boys’ Life, and Writer’s Digest. He is a regular contributor to two of the nation’s leading law enforcement magazines, Law and Order and Tactical Response, and he has taught at conferences for law enforcement officers, tactical police officers, and writers. Above all else, he is a father and husband, and the highlight of his life is spending time with his beautiful wife and wonderful children.
http://www.bjbourg.com
B J Bourg, But Not For Love
