Murder in the Marsh (10 page)

Sunday, August 28
th
, 2005

              Rachel awoke Sunday morning to the sound of gusting wind rattling the tin roofing as it swept through the rafters. A light rain smacked forcefully against the bedroom window, as if handfuls of tiny pebbles were being thrown against it. It took a moment for her to awaken sufficiently to remember she was at the LeBlanc house. A wave of apprehension returned, as she remembered the hurricane and the need to evacuate as soon as possible. It was already light outside, and they needed to make the most of the daylight hours.

              Rachel felt like she should be preparing for Sunday worship instead of fleeing for her life from a powerful hurricane. Lying in the bed, she heard Adele on the phone in the living room. Adele had tried during the night to find out where Andre had been taken, but without luck. This morning it sounded as if she had gotten hold of someone and was finally receiving the information she longed for. At one point, Rachel heard Adele heave a sigh of relief and begin to softly cry. She continued talking and asking questions, so Rachel decided not to interrupt. She would use a few minutes to read the Bible and pray about the day ahead of them.

              Shortly after Rachel finished her reading, she heard Adele hang up. She got out of bed, opened her bedroom door, and looked out. Adele stood by the telephone, lost in thought, dabbing the tears away from her eyes.

              “Is everything all right? Did you hear anything about Andre?” Rachel asked.

              “Yes, Andre, dey took him to West Jefferson Hospital. He had an emergency appendectomy and dey say he is fine. He’s awright and is sleeping. Dey will take care of him until ah can come.”

              “I’m glad he’s alright, Adele. I know you’ve been worried sick.”

              “Yes. But tank de Lord he’s okay.”

              “I was just about to pray before we got started. Would you like to do so together? We can ask the Lord for his protection and we can also thank Him for taking care of Andre.”

              Adele readily agreed.

              After praying together by the side of the bed, they woke Michelle and made some sandwiches to eat and to take with them. During the night, before they went to bed, they removed everything from the boat. They were glad they did, because the rain filled the bottom of the boat by morning. As Rachel and Adele stepped outside on the dock to prepare for their trip, they discovered the weather to be even worse than they expected. Adele gave Rachel one of Claude’s raincoats. The rain stung their face and made it difficult to prepare the boat. The flat bottom aluminum vessel would comfortably fit three to four, but was not made to carry a load of supplies. Adele found the switch for the small pump in back of the boat and flipped it on. The water in the bottom began to stream out a drain valve on the side of the boat. In a minute or two, all the water had been pumped out.

              Returning to the house, Adele fitted Michelle in a raincoat and a small life preserver. Adele explained to Michelle what they were going to do and tried to reassure her everything would be all right. Adele had difficulty concealing her emotions and concern for her daughter’s safety. Michelle nodded bravely as her mother talked to her.

              After Adele prepared Michelle, the two women strapped life preservers over their raincoats. Adele tried once more on the marine radio to see if she could contact Claude or Daniel. Despite several attempts, no reply came. Rachel wrote a note stating they had evacuated to Port Sulphur to her apartment. She also wrote about Andre’s situation and his surgery at the hospital. She pinned it on the wall facing the front door. Adele took one more look around and closed the door behind her.

Daniel didn’t rest during the night. A light rain started to fall after midnight, stopping and starting until early morning, when it began to fall continuously. The wind picked up speed, blowing the stinging rain sharply against his face and body. Before daylight, he decided to make his way back to the camp for cover, knowing he was exposing himself to greater danger. If the Sheriff didn’t return, he would have to weather the storm in the old camp and hope the structure could withstand the hurricane. If the Sheriff did return, he would need to be prepared to face him.

Daniel struggled to make it back to the camp. He picked his way through the marsh grass, often finding his legs sinking up to his knees in the underlying mud. The grass itself was stiff and the root balls and ever-present oyster shells bruised and cut his naked feet. Close to daybreak, he finally made it back and crawled up through the collapsed floor. The respite from the rain was welcomed relief, and though the air temperature was warm, he shivered constantly. He stripped off his shirt and wrung the water out, and did the same with his pants. In doing so, he remembered his cell phone in his pant’s pocket, but when he pulled it out he found it was busted and unusable.

              As Daniel looked around the camp, an idea began to develop in his mind. He noticed in the bedroom he escaped from, the roof and outside wall were dangerously close to collapsing even further. He located a thin rotted piling serving as the primary support for the wall. He determined that if the wall came down, the back portion of the roof would as well. Standing in the rain by the outside wall, he found a solid oyster cluster he used as a primitive ax. For fifteen minutes, he hacked at the piling until he chiseled it down to the thinnest diameter it could be and still support the wall. He then searched the camp, finding in the back corner of another room an old frayed rope. He tied the rope to the piling just above where he had chopped it nearly in two. He then pulled the rope out to its full length of about thirty feet straight away from the camp through the marsh grass. He concealed as much of it as he could with grass and mud, then crawled wet and tired back into the camp settling in to wait for the Sheriff.

              Daniel sat shivering, looking out the front door of the camp, wanting to fall asleep but knowing he couldn’t. Outside, the dark gray clouds boiled overhead as the wind and rain continued to pick up. A fog seemed to hover over the water, caused by the continuous splatter of rain on its surface. The wind gusts periodically bent the marsh shrubs, and rattled the decayed structure of the camp. Only a desperate person would be out in this weather, Daniel thought. He wondered if the Sheriff was anxious enough to come back for him. Daniel also wondered about Claude. Deep inside, he had doubts whether this man he had never met was still alive. If his boat sank and he was in the water, hypothermia might have already taken him, not to mention the possibility of drowning. Even if Daniel did manage to overcome the Sheriff and commandeer the patrol boat, how could he expect to find Claude in this storm?

              An hour passed, and Daniel began to give up hope the Sheriff would return. It would be easier for the Sheriff to allow Daniel to die in the hurricane. But if he believed Daniel could find a way to make it back and report what had happened, past and present, he would return to thwart that. Thirty more minutes passed. Daniel stood up and began pacing, thinking about what to do next. Moments later, he heard the muffled sound of boat engines approaching in the bayou. He shielded himself behind the doorframe, and continued to peer out. In a few minutes, the familiar sight of the patrol boat appeared. Someone in a heavy green raincoat stood at the wheel. Daniel assumed it was the Sheriff. The Sheriff seemed to be scanning the marsh, as he slowly guided the boat, presumably looking for Daniel. He probably couldn’t see well in the rain, Daniel thought. Finally, he steered for the camp boat dock and brought the craft to a standstill next to it. He tied the boat off and leaned over, picking up a heavy rifle. Daniel felt a wave of apprehension sweep through him, when he saw the rifle. With it the Sheriff could pick him off at a greater distance across the marshland.

              As the Sheriff stepped from the boat to the dock, Daniel stepped out into the open doorway. The Sheriff saw him immediately, but wasn’t in position to aim his rife.

              “Sheriff, it doesn’t have to be this way!” Daniel shouted. “You committed a horrendous murder when you killed my father, and you deserve to suffer for it. But there is such a thing as accepting responsibility for your actions, and I’m going to give you that chance.”

              The Sheriff now stood firmly on the dock, while the rain poured down and the wind whipped his raincoat about him. He brought the rifle up across his chest, but did not aim.

              “Don’t make me laugh, Trahan. It’s too late for that. If I wanted to turn myself in, it would have been a long time ago. I’m not planning on spending my final years in prison, caged with the scum I’ve arrested. I wouldn’t last a day.”

              “There’s something more important than the punishment you might receive in this world, Sheriff,” Daniel shouted over the rain and wind. “Your actions will condemn you even worse in the next life if you don’t seek repentance and forgiveness.” Daniel was surprised at his own words. Over the past couple of days a spiritual reawakening had begun to take place within him.

              “Trahan, it’s amazing how much you’re like your father. You both think forgiveness is the answer. Well, I’m not looking for forgiveness. I’m looking for finality!”

              Sheriff Holet raised his rifle, aiming squarely at Daniel. In the same instant, Daniel lunged back behind the wall. The explosion of the rifle was matched only by the ferocity by which the bullet tore through an inside wall of the house. Immediately after the rifle shot, Daniel ran past the open doorway toward the back bedroom, giving the Sheriff no time to get off another round. He slid through the collapsed hole in the floor and ran though the marsh grass to the end of the concealed rope. Though it was raining and gusting, the Sheriff would be inside the camp and could take better aim with his rifle. Daniel would be out in the open with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. As he turned to face the camp, the Sheriff appeared at the window. He spotted Daniel, and raised his rifle to fire. Simultaneously, Daniel knelt down, grabbed the rope, and pulled with all his might. To his horror, the rope snapped at midpoint, and the roof and wall did not collapse. The Sheriff fired again, but missed as Daniel heard the round sizzle overhead. The only thing that saved him was having knelt down just as the round exploded from the rifle.

Sheriff Holet ejected the casing and chambered another round. Daniel saw no other alternative but to charge straight toward the Sheriff. He churned through the mud as fast as he could, while the Sheriff tried to aim at his moving target. Daniel lunged for the broken end of the rope. Grabbing it, he pulled again. This time it held, and the piling give way underneath the Sheriff. At the same instant, the Sheriff fired, grazing Daniel’s head. Daniel was close enough that he could smell the gunpowder from the rifle. The wall and roof continued to fall, giving the Sheriff no time to react. The back portion of the camp collapsed inward, burying the Sheriff in the debris.

Lying stunned for several seconds, not believing he could still be alive, Daniel picked himself up. He waited a few moments to see if there was any movement, and walked cautiously toward the collapsed bedroom. Blood trickled down the side of his face, but after feeling it, he determined the wound wasn’t that serious. The Sheriff could still be alive and easily pull his pistol and kill him, he thought. As he searched the debris, he had trouble finding the Sheriff underneath the pile of wood. He carefully bent down and peered up under the woodpile. It took him a moment to find the Sheriff, who was not moving. He cautiously reached under and took hold of his wrist. He checked for a pulse, but found none. Daniel noticed a large piece of piling had fallen across the back of the Sheriff’s neck, causing his head to lay awkwardly. He was certain the Sheriff’s neck was broken. He felt around and found the keys to the handcuffs on his wrist and unlocked them, throwing them to the side. Taking a deep breath, he felt both stunned and relieved at the turn of events.

The wind and rain made it difficult for Rachel and the LeBlancs to board the small boat. Already, water had begun to fill the bottom of the vessel, and it had to be re-pumped. They only carried a couple of bags of clothes and food. Since she already had some familiarity with operating the boat, Rachel took the wheel, while Adele and Michelle sat ahead of her to distribute the weight. Rachel bent under the dash and twisted the ignition wires together. The engine hacked and smoked, then finally started. With everyone settled in, Adele untied from the front and Rachel the back.

              Immediately, Rachel could tell it was going to be a more difficult journey than she imagined. The powerful wind was blowing from the southeast to the northwest, and began driving the boat toward the opposite side of the canal, before she even got it out of neutral. Rachel quickly engaged the engine, and it lurched forward. With the bow already pointing toward the opposite bank, the boat accelerated forward and threatened to ram into a dock across the canal. The rain continued to lash at them, which made it harder for Rachel to judge distances. She turned the wheel to the left, and the nose of the boat began to follow, but not fast enough. A minute later they slammed sideways into the dock, violently jolting everyone. Michelle let out a scream of fear, causing Adele to pull her closer to comfort her.

              With the wind pinning them to the side of the dock, Rachel decided to increase the engine power and pushed the throttle stick further forward. The aluminum boat ground against the wood, but began to move forward and clear of the dock. Rachel turned the wheel further to the left, and the vessel churned toward the middle of the canal. The gusting wind continued to create problems as they slowly made their way down the canal. The boat rocked violently back and forth threatening to tip them out. Its flat bottom gave it less stability than a v-hulled boat. With each rocking rise and dip, water splashed over the sides onto them and the boat floor. Rachel left the pump running, which barely kept up with the inward flow of water. The periodic gusts also continued to push the nose of the boat to the right. Rachel overcompensated for this, only to find the boat heading almost straight for the left bank when the wind momentarily died down. She continually turned the wheel back and forth and could only manage a zigzagging pattern through the water. On a normal day, the trip would not have been that far, but today it seemed to be taking twice the time. She prayed silently, hoping that God would see them through.

              Rachel could only see a few feet in front of the boat, due to the thick mist generated by the rain striking the water. Adele peered ahead trying to help guide her by pointing in the best direction.

              “Rachel, watch out! A boat!” Adele cried.

Rachel didn’t see it at first, but then it loomed into view. A large shrimp boat had broken free from its moorings and slowly drifted across the canal.  Its nets, though pulled up out of the water, nevertheless flailed wildly, like some giant waterfowl attempting to take flight. Rachel didn’t have enough time to completely avoid being struck by the shrimp boat. Even if she pushed the throttle fully forward, she wouldn’t have made it around. She did the only thing she could. She pulled the stick back in reverse, which slowed her boat, but not in time to prevent a collision. The bow of the shrimp boat struck the front left edge of hers. The massive weight of the shrimp boat shoved the smaller boat to the right, while forcing its bow momentarily under water. In the few seconds the bow was underwater, a deluge of canal water rushed into the boat leaving them dangerously close to sinking. If the boat sagged any further, it would come over the sides and they would certainly go down. Drenched in water, Michelle cried while clinging to her mother.

Rachel and Adele both looked for a container to bail the water out. Finding none, they began scooping as fast as they could with their cupped hands. It was inefficient, but they worked frantically. Fortunately the pump continued to work, and after fifteen minutes they had the water down to a level that the pump could handle. The shrimp boat floated on past them, and buried its bow in the mud bank of the canal.

“I think we can make it now,” Rachel shouted to Adele.

Adele ceased her efforts and turned her attention to comforting Michelle who continued to cry.

Rachel took a deep breath, wiped the water from her face, and pushed the throttle forward once again. The rain and wind continued unabated. “If this was just the early stages of the hurricane,” she thought, “when it finally strikes, it’s going to be very bad.” She continued to struggle with keeping the boat on course, and after another fifteen minutes, she cleared the last of the camps along Grand Bayou. The canal widened out a bit, which allowed the wind to whip up larger waves that broke over the edges of the boat. Now she would need to locate the opening of Happy Jack Canal off to her left, no easy task in the current conditions.

After another ten minutes of proceeding along very slowly, Adele pointed out the mouth of Happy Jack Canal. Once in the canal, it would only be about half a mile to the marina. Rachel carefully turned the boat in the direction of the mouth, which also was directly in the face of the wind blowing from the southeast. The rain pelted them much more fiercely, causing Rachel and Adele to bow their heads, while Michelle buried her face in the lap of her mother. Rachel kept glancing up to make sure they were heading in the right direction. The force of the wind blew so strongly, it slowed the boat even more than they were already going. Rachel could see the marsh grass along the canal bent low by the wind.

Since the boat now faced directly down a half-mile long canal, the southeasterly wind had time to build up larger waves. By the time the waves reached their boat, they had become large rolling swells. The boat seemed tiny in comparison, and rose up on each crest and dropped dangerously down in the trough. Periodically, when the vessel dropped, the next wave was already upon them and crashed over the front of the boat. All three were covered in blankets of water, which filled the boat faster than the pump could handle. Adele scooped as much out as she could, while Rachel struggled to control the steering. Only a quarter of the way down the canal, the worst possible thing that could have happened did. The engine died.