Clint Wolf Series Boxed Set 3 Read online
CLINT WOLF BOXED SET: Books 10 - 12
Book Ten: BUT NOT FORBORNE
Book Eleven: BUT NOT FOREWARNED
Book Twelve: BUT NOT FOREBODING
This set is a work of fiction.
All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or
reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author, with the exception of brief
excerpts used for the purposes of review.
Copyright © 2019 by BJ Bourg
Cover design by Christine Savoie of Bayou Cover Designs
PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
CONTENTS
Book Ten:
BUT NOT FORBORNE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
Book Eleven:
BUT NOT FOREWARNED
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
Book Twelve:
BUT NOT FOREBODING
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
Book Ten:
BUT NOT FORBORNE
CHAPTER 1
5:15 p.m., Wednesday, January 10
112 Rooster Drive, Mechant Loup, Louisiana
Amy Cooke hitched up her gun belt and checked her gig line in the mirror. Tan wasn’t her favorite color, but she did like the way her uniform looked. It was better than the light blue uniform she used to wear as a corrections officer for the Chateau Parish Detention Center. Thanks to a chance meeting with Clint Wolf at a gas station a few years back, she had been able to change from dress blues to tan, and from prison bars to the open road.
Clint was the chief of police back when he’d hired her, but he had resigned about a year later and Susan Wilson—who had later married Clint Wolf—had taken over in that capacity. She had loved working for Clint and wasn’t sure how things would be under Susan, but she quickly learned nothing would change. They were both down-to-earth people and were true leaders.
After working as a swamp tour guide for about a year, Clint returned to work as the chief of detectives—although he was the only detective in town—and Amy had been able to tag along on some of his cases. He had worked as a homicide detective for the city of La Mort before landing in Mechant Loup, so he was an experienced investigator and she had learned quite a lot from him already. She was looking forward to learning even more, and she hoped to someday wear a detective shield herself. While Mechant Loup was a quiet town for the most part, they had their share of violent crimes, and some years were worse than others.
After ensuring that the seam of her uniform shirt was aligned with the seam of her pant fly and belt buckle, she pulled her blonde hair back into a ponytail. She sighed as she thought back to her old job. Her days of working in the detention center seemed like a lifetime ago. Once she had tasted the freedom of the open road in her patrol car, she never looked back. And after she’d been involved in her first high speed pursuit with a DWI suspect, she knew she was born to do this job.
“Where in the hell is Trevor?” she asked aloud as she strode to the kitchen. Her boots echoed against the hollow floor underfoot. A quick glance at her new wristwatch told her it was a little after five in the afternoon. Her boyfriend had been due home last Friday, but he’d called to say he was going to be a few days late. And then he’d called this morning to say he’d be home by five, but, as usual, he was wrong.
Amy hadn’t seen Trevor sin
ce the morning before Christmas—seventeen days ago—when he had been called away for work. He had worked offshore the entire time they’d dated, and it had never bothered her before, but the last few hitches had been different. She hated to admit it, but she missed the goofball.
“At least I’ve been able to keep the house clean,” she muttered, acknowledging that she hadn’t always felt this way. She used to feel more independent, unattached, needing no one but herself. But so much had happened in the past few years. She had seen more than her share of death, had experienced more than her share of heartache, and had definitely grown up quickly. If she had learned one thing from working in law enforcement, it was that no one was guaranteed their next breath. Anyone’s life could be snuffed out at any moment and without warning—and that included her own.
Rather than striking fear in her heart, this revelation had instilled within her a new and deep appreciation for life. She now viewed things through a different lens. She wanted to live life to the fullest—just as she always had—but the word had taken on a different meaning. She now wanted to fill her life with a family, children, but that required a mate. And right now, that mate was late and it was starting to piss her off.
“Damn it, Trevor!” Amy poured a glass of water and downed it in one gulp. “I have to be at work at six o’clock—”
A horn sounded from outside and it startled her. It wasn’t a familiar horn and it was close to the house. So close, it sounded as though it had driven right into the open garage, where her marked police Charger was parked.
“What the hell?” Amy’s hand brushed instinctively against her pistol as she stepped around the island in the kitchen, rounded the corner into the laundry room, and walked toward the door that led to the garage. Even before reaching the door, she saw a strange red car parked in the bay beside her Charger. There was a man she didn’t recognize sitting in the driver’s seat.
Amy’s heart began to beat in her chest. She palmed her pistol and crouched low—out of sight—throwing her back against the wall. Who in the hell is that? Could it be a repeat of what had happened two years ago?
Keeping her back to the wall and gritting her teeth in determination, she slid sideways until she was just inside the door to the garage. She cocked her head to the side and listened, trying to hear what the stranger was doing. There was no sound. She rose slowly to peer out the window and it was only then that the man started to step out of the car. Licking her lips, she took a deep breath and counted under her breath. One, two…three!
Amy jerked open the door and rushed into the garage, letting the muzzle of her pistol lead the way. “Who in the hell are you and what are you doing in my garage?”
CHAPTER 2
Amy’s voice was loud and authoritative as she confronted the stranger, and it reverberated off of the nearby walls and ceiling. The man, who wore a thick jacket and faded jeans that were tucked into work boots, spun around to face Amy and screeched in terror when he saw the pistol. He jerked backward—his arms flailing wildly over his head—and lost his footing on the slick concrete surface. Not wanting to lose sight of him, Amy rushed forward and was about to kick the car door shut when a shadow appeared from the open garage.
“Jesus Christ, Amy! What are you doing? You’re going to kill him!”
Confused, Amy lowered her pistol and squinted against the brilliance of the setting sun. Although the light blinded her, she could make out her boyfriend’s lanky figure approaching. “Trevor? What’s going on? Who is this guy?”
“He works for me. He’s one of my deckhands. I asked him to do me a favor, but I didn’t think it would get him killed.” Trevor strode to the man on the ground and squatted beside him, disappearing from view behind the car door. “Are you okay?”
Amy could see that the stranger’s eyes were wide when he slowly rose to his feet and peeked over the doorframe.
“I…I’ll go wait in the truck, Captain,” the young man said sheepishly before turning and scurrying away.
Shame-faced, Amy holstered her sidearm. Shaking his head, but grinning wide, Trevor straightened and stepped away from the car door, indicated with his head toward the driver’s seat. “Go ahead, baby, get inside.”
Amy’s brow furrowed as she glanced at the emblem on the front grill, but then her mouth dropped open as realization hit her. It was a Lexus LS 500 and there was a message scribbled in window paint on the hood, “Merry Belated Christmas!”
“Wait…is this for real?” She stumbled forward and put a hand on Trevor’s chest as she brushed by him and looked inside. It looked so expensive that she didn’t dare sit inside with her gun belt on. The last thing she wanted to do was damage the leather. Hell, a month’s worth of her paychecks probably wouldn’t cover the cost of a tear in those seats.
Amy’s head spun. She felt dizzy. The car had to be worth over ninety thousand dollars. “Is it a rental?”
Trevor smiled and held up a set of keys. “It’s your Christmas present. I bought it for you. Get inside.”
She lifted her left wrist. “But you already got me this fancy watch that connects to my phone. I…I thought this was my gift.”
“That was just a teaser. I wanted you to think that was all you were getting. This is your real gift.”
Amy opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. She was flattered that he would spend so much money on her, but she also felt ashamed because the shotgun she’d purchased for him barely touched a thousand dollars. While he had recently been promoted to boat captain and had gotten a substantial raise that more than quadrupled her salary, this gift was much more than she could ever accept.
“This is too much, Honey.”
“Well, it’s second- or third-hand and I got a good deal on it. And…this is not everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“I also rented a hotel in New Orleans for the weekend. We can leave first thing Friday morning and get some beignets for breakfast and then check out the Aquarium, maybe the World War Two Museum, and then have a nice dinner at Ernst Café.”
“Are you trying to spoil me, Captain Blackley?”
Trevor’s blue eyes sparkled as he squinted and ran a hand through his curly hair. He then lifted both hands in the air. “Guilty as charged.”
Amy moved in to hug him, resting her head on his shoulder and allowing her eyes to rove over the car. Trevor’s breath was hot on her neck and she shuddered. She was about to turn and kiss him when static sounded from the radio clipped to her belt. The dispatcher came on and called out her radio number.
Amy grunted and pulled the radio free. “Go with your traffic, Headquarters.”
“I need you to respond to a missing person off of Old Blackbird Highway. House number 4923.” There was a pause, then the dispatcher said, “It’s a young girl. She hasn’t been seen or heard from since this morning. Her mother—a Laura Murdock—is freaking out. She’ll be waiting for you outside.”
Amy pushed away from Trevor. “We’ll finish this discussion later.”
“No,” he said in protest. “I need you to get inside.”
“Sorry!” She rushed to her Charger and jumped inside. “Duty calls!” She backed out of the driveway and drove up Rooster Drive, which was the street on which they lived.
After dating for several years, she and Trevor had decided to try living together. It had been easier than she would’ve thought, but that was only because Trevor was offshore most of the time. He usually worked fourteen and seven—fourteen days at work and seven at home—but there were many times when his hitch would be extended and she’d end up having the house to herself for longer periods of time. She had lived alone for most of her adult life, so she didn’t mind it when he worked—well, until recently.
Amy took a right off of Rooster Drive and headed south along Main Street. Within about half a mile, Main Street turned into Old Blackbird Highway and stretched south for many miles, all the way to the coast. The line of demarcation was easy to spot, because the to
wn had recently paved Main Street but neglected the rest of the highway, which was faded and bumpy.
Amy swerved to the left to avoid a pothole and shot a quick glance at a mailbox that whisked by. Almost there, she thought.
Being back in this area caused a chill to reverberate up and down her spine—thanks to her being brutally attacked a few years ago—but she dismissed it when the complainant’s address came into view. It was a white wooden house, set back from the highway just a little. The paint on the weathered siding was chipped in places. The grass grew in weird patches—thanks to the last freeze they’d had—and was in need of a trim.
Amy grunted. Although they were in the dead of winter, the temperature was about sixty degrees outside and the grass and leaves were still mostly green. She slowed and pulled to the shoulder of the road, grabbing her radio to let the dispatcher know she had arrived.
CHAPTER 3
Before Amy could exit her cruiser, the storm door on the front of the house flung open and a woman dashed outside, jumped off of a small concrete porch, and raced across the uneven yard. “Oh, God, did you find her?” the woman hollered as she ran. “Did you find Rose?”
“No, ma’am.” Amy pulled an ink pen from her shirt pocket and frowned as the woman stopped several feet away and leaned over to rest her palms on her bony knees. “Are you Laura Murdock?”
The woman nodded. Her breathing was labored and her face pale. She rubbed her bloodshot eyes. “I’m so scared. It’s unlike Rose to not answer her phone.”
“When’s the last time you saw her?” Amy asked.
“Um, earlier…early this morning. She was up front here. This is where she takes the bus.”
“What time does she get back from school?”
“Around three, but she never even made it to school.”
Damn, this ain’t good, Amy thought, but didn’t say it. Instead, she frowned and asked, “She never made it to school?”
Laura shook her head. “When I got home, I checked the answering machine and I had one of those robo-calls from the school telling me she had been absent today.”
Amy pulled out her cell phone and texted Clint to come out there as soon as possible. Next, she scanned the shoulder of the road in front of the house. “Where exactly was it that you last saw Rose?”
Clint Wolf Series Boxed Set 3