Page 4 of Blood and Sand

I pushed my way through the crowd, not answering any questions. I had no information to give, and what I could share, the department was keeping a lid on. While the sounds of reporters’ questions and news helicopters circling overheard pierced my ears, I forced myself to block them all out and focus on the task at hand. Catching a psycho killer.

Hanging my badge around my neck, I slid between a couple of squad cars blocking off the highway, ducked under the caution tape, and passed the patrol officers standing guard to keep prying eyes from disturbing the scene.

The stale, swampy aroma of the bayou wafted in the air. The humidity was already extremely high despite the early morning hour. Mosquitos the size of fucking golf balls and gnats were already relentless. The weight of the hot, moist air caused my powder blue polo shirt to stick to my body, forcing me to put my shoulder-length hair into a bun. Temperatures were already in the upper seventies, and the high today was supposed to be closer to one-hundred degrees. With the combination of the sweltering heat and a massive fucking hangover, this was the start of my long weekend...definitely not the long weekend I’d had planned.

I walked over to the edge of the bayou, where a few detectives from the homicide division milled around, waiting for the bodies to be pulled from the water. Although we already had over fifty homicides this year because we were in the middle of a gang war, everyone was hands on deck anytime the bodies were pulled from Laurels Bayou, which I appreciated.

“I thought you were leaving for the lake this morning?” Shaw asked.

Amir Shaw had been my partner for the last six years while in homicide. We’d been through a lot, on and off the job, including my divorce. There were times he’d pulled me out ofLucky’sdrunk off my ass, and I’d done the same for him before he finally got his shit together and married his wife. Now, he had the picture-perfect family. He was a cookie-cutter husband and father with the white picket fence and a beautiful daughter. Shaw wasn’t only my partner—he was my best friend. We’d become so close that he and his wife, Delaney, had asked DeeDee and me to be the godparents to their only child.

“Nope. Cap threatened to pull me off the case and give it to Rankin if I didn’t get my ass down here. So here I am, and my weekend is gone to shit. But hey, at least I can work until I drop dead to forget about the next few days, huh?” I waved away the gnats flying in my face and chuckled, trying to mask the pain I drowned in, but my friend saw through it. He always did. We did this same song and dance every year. My piss-poor attitude wasn’t a surprise to him.

“Man, Delaney’s worried about you,” Amir said. “You haven’t been by to see Amara in a while, and you know how she feels about you fucking Chanel.”

I only nodded because there was nothing to say. I know they worried, but nothing could change my life. Not now.

“I’m not trying to be in your business like that,” he continued, “but your sex life is causing problems in my marriage.” He crossed his arms over his chest and laughed before his face turned serious again. “But I’ll give you a pass because I know how hard this time of the year is for you.”

“Well, tell Delaney there’s no need to worry, and there’s no need for you to worry, either. I’m good,” I assured, despite it being a lie. “Now tell me, what do we have?”

I tried to shift the conversation away from my misery to what was important. Our investigation. It was time for us to get to work on this case and not dwell on my life or lack thereof. Besides, I already knew what Amir would say. It was the same thing he and Delaney had been saying since the divorce. I needed to stop beating myself up over the decision I’d made. It was done and over with. I shouldn’t spiral out of control over it. But neither of them understood. How could they? They had each other, and all I had was the fucking job I gave my other half up for, a piece of ass I couldn’t care less about, and a bottle of Jameson waiting for me in my fucking empty house. I was no longer Rey LaCroix, husband of the most spectacular woman on the planet. I was a shell of a man now that she was gone.

“We have two females intricately bound with rope,” Shaw said, bringing me back to my miserable reality. There was no time to dwell on my fuck up; it was done and over with. Had been for three years. Now, we had two more dead girls floating in the bayou.

“Just like the others?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. This was his killing field. His territory. Of course, it was just like the others. Black women, bound, murdered, and discarded like trash.

“It seems so. We’ll know more once they’re on the slab at the morgue. But seems to be the same type of rope, and the bodies were linked together, like the others.”

“But why discard them in twos?” I spoke more to myself than Shaw, but he nodded in agreement. “And why bind them so intricately? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

It was the same question I’d asked myself since we recovered the first two bodies no less than thirty yards from this exact location. There had to be a reason to go through such efforts to bind these women this way. “There has to be a reason for everything he’s doing. What are their connections to one another?”

“Like the others, they’re both African American females, possibly in their mid-twenties to mid-thirties, dark hair, no visible tattoos. Also, each body has been stripped of clothing, no jewelry present, intricately bound with rope.”

No matter what Cap said, we had a serial killer on our hands attacking young Black women in Louisiana, and he fucking knew it. Why the hell deny it?

“Who called it in?”

Shaw pulled a small black notebook from his back pocket and began flipping through the pages. “Let’s see. A… Mr. Gary Sutton, thirty-four-year-old, White male and divorced father of two. Originally from North Carolina but moved to Louisiana around seven years ago. Says he was out fishing and stumbled upon the bodies floating in the water. He’s waiting for us back at the station.”

“All right. Anything else?”

“Have you thought about what I asked you?”

I groaned, rubbing my temples.

“You know she can help with this, Rey.”

This wasn’t a good conversation to have if I wanted my skull to stop feeling like a jackhammer was beating down on it. Shaw had been on my ass since we pulled bodies number three and four out of the water for me to contact Dana for insight on the case. We both knew this guy was a different beast, and we needed the help. Specifically, her help. So far, I hadn’t been able to push myself to do it. How do I face the woman who still had my heart after I didn’t fight for us?

Although Dana was still in contact with Amir and Delaney, they never gave me any information about what she’d been up to, and I never asked. I didn’t want to make our friends uncomfortable. Everything I did know about my ex-wife and her new life came from news reports or social media. She’d done well for herself since she left me. Somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to disrupt what she had built for herself. However, Amir was right. She could help. She was the best at what she did.

“No, I haven’t,” I finally confessed.

“Rey…”

I threw up my hand, stopping his protest. “I know, Amir, but I can’t call her out of the fucking blue about a case. I haven’t talked to her since the night I stood there like a fucking idiot while she left me. Even during the divorce proceedings, she didn’t want to speak to me. What makes you think she would even see me?”

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