“This is excellent,” I said. “You’ve got all bone structure perfect—the brow ridge, the nasal cavity. Even the tissue depth looks like a perfect fit. Where did you learn to do this?”
Nickel shrugged. “I was always good at drawing. All that stuff you said—brow ridge and tissue depth—I don’t know nothing about that. I just draw what I see or in this case, what I should see. But that guy, I ain’t ever seen before.”
The others studied the drawing and shook their heads as well.
“He’s never been in the bar,” Whiskey said. “I don’t know everyone in the parish, but if I’ve seen a face even once, I’ll remember that I’ve done so. Might not recall when and where, but I get that flash of recognition, if that makes sense.”
“It does,” I said. “Your memory for faces is one of the many reasons you’re a great bar owner. You can address everyone as if they’re personal friends. Then they stay and drink longer and come more often.”
He grinned. “Don’t tell people my secrets.”
“So he’s not from around here,” Ida Belle said, “but he wound up dead under Nickel’s dock, right after the girl was hiding there. There’s no way that’s a coincidence, regardless of the obvious lack of connection.”
“Absolutely not,” I agreed. “I wish we had time of death.”
“He hadn’t been in the water for long,” Nickel said, “or there wouldn’t have been much of him left.”
I nodded. “But he could have been killed somewhere else and dumped there later. And the water is still cold enough to skew things. I guarantee you, though, there was no body within miles of your camp when we were there, or Rambo would have locked in on it.”
“So was the man looking for the girl and the mother got into a scuffle with him and managed to shoot him?” Gertie asked.
When Whiskey and Nickel gave her blank looks, she explained. “We’ve been leaning toward the girl’s mother being the one who got them out of there given that it sounds like the women might be living in less-than-ideal circumstances.”
“Got them out of where?” Whiskey asked.
“We might need to backtrack a little,” I said. “But I need you to keep this absolutely silent. Other women and children could be at risk.”
I gave them our base thoughts on the Brethren, leaving out the explosives and the hard indication that they were a criminal organization rather than religious. When I finished, they both nodded, their expressions grave.
“I don’t like to think about women and kids being held by a bunch of religious nuts,” Whiskey said.
“What the heck is going on here?” Nickel asked.
I shook my head. “I wish I knew.”
Since we had nothing else on our agenda, we headed over to the General Store to find Blanchet and bring him up to speed. Walter had several ladies in the store and pointed to the back of the shop. We scanned the storeroom but didn’t see him anywhere, then I heard a metal clang outside. On the cement pad behind the store, we found Blanchet working on a lawn mower.
“You take up a new career?” I asked.
He looked up at us and smiled. “More like revisiting an old one. My old man was a heck of a mechanic. He had me fixing small engines in grade school. Scooter was overrun on repairs, especially with spring coming and everyone getting back to lawn stuff, so I told him I’d help out. I’ve already finished two so far.”
He reached down and pulled the crank and the engine fired right up.
“Three,” he said, looking pleased. “Please tell me you’ve had as much success as I have.”
“I’m afraid not, but it’s been very interesting.”
We all sat at the picnic table, and I brought Blanchet up to speed on everything that had happened since breakfast. When I was done, he shook his head.
“That’s a heck of a lot packed into three-quarters of a day.”
I showed him the sketch Nickel had done and he shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell. But is anyone else surprised that Hermes found a body? That he even knew which direction to start looking?”
Ida Belle shrugged. “For all we know, he might have been combing the area around where the girl was found. He would have headed up that bayou sooner or later. And a body stuck against the side of the dock would be hard to miss. Even for Hermes.”
“Him finding that body was just timing and luck,” Gertie said.
“I’m surprised he was out there at all, especially that early.”
“My guess is he’s doing those things when he assumes we’ll still be at home so that he’s free to spend his day checking up on us,” I said.
“So what are your thoughts on the Johnson woman?” Blanchet asked.
“She confuses me. The woman appears to have access to the money she claims, and I don’t doubt she’s highly educated, although I’m certain a call to Stanford would yield the same results my call to family services did.”
“Fake name, maybe? Rich girl taken in by the cult?”
“She wouldn’t be the first or the last, but we all know that’s no cult. Something illegal is going on out there.”
“They could have roped her in with the New Age religion thing though, especially if they wanted access to her cash and help with regular people-facing things,” Blanchet said. “Or all that money could have come from whatever they’re doing out in the swamp and not from inheritance.”
“The only thing I know for certain is she’s not the girl’s mother. But I don’t trust her or her motives.”
Blanchet nodded. “You think the girl is all right with June?”
“I think so. June seems to have a good handle on the psychological challenges that foster kids have, especially those in emergency placement. And she doesn’t like Hermes. I think she’ll protect the girl.”
“At least there’s that. So what’s on the agenda now?”
I shook my head. “I’m stumped. I think I need to sit on things for a bit and see what I come up with.”
My cell phone rang and I saw Harrison’s number in the display.
“Someone attacked June Nelson in her home. She got off a shot, but only took out a lamp and her drapes. He backhanded her hard enough to black her eye and put her out. When she came to, her attacker was gone. So was the girl.”
I jumped up from the table and cursed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. In broad daylight? How did the guy get in?”
“I’m getting the story thirdhand at this point but sounds like he jimmied the back door. She was on the porch reading and heard a noise. Thinking the girl woke up, she headed inside and saw the guy cross the hallway. She yelled at him to get out and grabbed her shotgun that she’d left propped on the outside of the door, and when he rushed her, she fired but missed. He clocked her, and she went down for the count.”
“Is she all right?”
“I think so. The paramedic who passed it on got the story from the deputy. He said her face is going to hurt for a while, but she seemed more upset about the girl than anything. Hermes has finally decided to kinda do his job and has everyone he can spare looking for this guy. I’m on my way to Mudbug now.”