12. Chapter Twelve
The sun had just peeked over the horizon as Grace, Brody, and the rest of her team made it to Lucian’s modest home in Bayou St. John. A cold breeze blew in off the coast, and the clouds over Lake Pontchartrain were dark and ominous. They reflected how Grace felt, her mood grim. She was about to confront a man she considered a friend, a mentor, over heinous crimes that he had been committing over the last ten years. She sat in Brody’s truck for a moment, checking her pistol before sliding it into the holster at her hip and taking a moment to steel her resolve over what they were about to do.
Brody leaned back against the bed of his truck, holding her bulletproof vest. He knew the discovery of Lucian Boudreaux as the killer was weighing heavily on her mind. He didn’t know much about the man, but after Grace had fallen asleep, he did some digging on his own. He scoured every file on every victim they had found in the cold cases. Some of the investigations were handled shoddily, while others were full of details that made no sense. He called in a few favors with his FBI contacts and got a hold of the former deputy’s financial records and anything else they had on him. And the background information was staggering.
Lucian Boudreaux was a man with a score to settle. He had lost his family to Hurricane Katrina and lost his home in Treme to the flood waters that devastated New Orleans. And was involved in the mismanagement of the funds when he was elected councilman to the area, a position he lost because of his nefarious dealings. He wanted a bigger piece of that financial pie, and when he didn’t get it, when he was outed, he started his reign of terror and retribution on the city that nurtured him throughout his life until failing him as an adult. He wanted Treme razed. It was a reminder of all he had lost.
When Grace finally slipped from the truck, Brody handed her the vest and waited until she was ready to go in. He could not say anything to make what they had to do any easier. He just hoped they could find enough evidence to put Lucian Boudreaux away for good. Otherwise, he feared the man would come after Grace. If that happened, Lucian wouldn’t have to worry about going to jail. Brody would make sure he went six food under instead.
“Let’s do this,” Grace finally stated. Her team had their orders and surrounded Lucian’s home. She went to the front door and knocked, Brody standing behind her. “Lucian, it’s Grace.” She planned to go in, acting as his friend, feeling him out.
The door opened slowly, and Lucian looked at her sleepily. “Sheriff. It’s a bit early for a social call. I don’t even have the coffee on.” He looked up at Brody and nodded.
Grace nodded. She had one hand on her pistol, the other tucked in her duty belt. “Well, this isn’t a social call, Lucian. Can we come in?”
Lucian stared at her. “No, Sheriff. No, you cannot come in unless you have a warrant.”
Brody pulled the warrant from his shirt pocket and handed it to Lucian.
That’s when the man slammed the door in their face and took off through the house.
“Riggins, search the house! Find me something!” Grace yelled as Brody kicked in the door. She had her pistol drawn and was going through the one-story house. The backdoor was wide open, and she could see Lucian running towards the bayou and the boat sitting on the bank. “Fuck!” she hissed as she took off across the lawn.
Brody was faster and ran past Grace, determined not to let Lucian escape. A small voice in the back of his head commented about this being the reason they ran so much in the FBI, and if he weren’t in a life-or-death situation, he would’ve found it humorous. Lucian was almost to the boat when Brody launched himself towards him, tackling the older man. They rolled into the water, standing up and trading punches like their life depended on it.
All Grace could do was stand by and watch as the two men wrestled for control. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement, and when she looked, she saw the last bit of the alligator’s tail slip into the water. She had heard of the alligator problem in Bayou St. John, but this was the first time she had seen one in the neighborhood. She ran towards the bank. “Brody! There’s a gator! Get out of the water!” she yelled.
Brody managed to get Lucian in a chokehold and saw the alligator as it headed toward them. He pulled Lucian back onto the bank. He wasn’t taking a chance of getting attacked, especially if the alligator was a momma with a clutch of eggs nearby. He got Lucian to the ground and put his knee in his back, holding him down as he slipped a zip tie around his wrists and secured him. “Lucian Boudreaux, you are under arrest for the murders of Jonas Martin, Madeline Thomas, and Janet LaFayette, as well as five others whose deaths you covered up. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you, and with these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me or my partner, Sheriff Cooper?”
Lucian stared at Grace. “You can’t prove anything. Nothing will stick, and I’ll be out of lock-up before sundown!” he spat from his place under Brody.
“Don’t count on it, Lucian,” Grace replied. She motioned for two of her deputies to come and escort Lucian to the house behind her. She walked in to find Riggins standing at the kitchen table. A large tote stood on it, opened to reveal the contents inside. She pulled on a pair of gloves RIggins handed her and looked in the box. “Where did you find this?” she asked.
“Shoved in the back of a closet under a pile of blankets.” He looked at her and shrugged. “You said to find evidence.”
“I did.”
“Illegal search and seizure,” Lucian hissed.
“No, it was quite legal,” Brody quipped as he, too, slipped on a pair of gloves. “You just didn’t bother to read it.” He pulled a long, square-shaped dagger from the box, the blade still covered in dried blood. He took an evidence bag and slipped the dagger into it. “I bet this will match someone,” he stated.
Grace pulled out a mask made of twisted vines and bone. The hollow eyes stared at her, and she handed it to Riggins, shivering at the malevolence of the thing. She was positive Brody would find something on the back of the mask linking it to Lucian. She suspected he wore it to scare the daylights out of his victims. The last item in the box was a set of bloodstained and tattered robes matching those worn by the Crescent Order. She held the robes up and looked at Lucian. “The Crescent Order, Lucian?”
Lucian started to laugh. “They know who you are, Grace. And they will come after you because you dared confront them. No one lives when they’ve crossed the order. You’re time is coming!” His laughter turned sinister, maniacal.
“Get him out of here,” Brody snapped, holding an evidence bag out to Grace to collect the robes.
“Hey, boss. Look what we found.” Brody’s partner held up a quart mason jar of what looked like blood and a container of luminol.
“Bag it and get it to the station.”
Grace looked around the kitchen. She started to tremble, and Brody cleared the room of the other officers, giving them orders to process the house and look for anything else that would help the case. When he returned to the kitchen, he enfolded her in his arms, kissing the top of her head. “It’s over, Sheriff. We got him.”