Authors: Joan Rylen
Tags: #new orleans, #kidnapping, #vacation, #stripper, #girls trips
“What’s your Lady?” Lucy asked.
Adrienne reached into the console and pulled
out a small, silver and pink Lady Smith revolver with a black
handle. “It’s my .38. Al gave it to me as a wedding gift.”
“What a romantic,” Vivian said and
laughed.
Adrienne put it away. “He loves me.” She
maneuvered away from the dock and down the bayou. The deeper in
they went, the more pungent the smell of decay, rot and just plain
ol’ funk.
Adrienne pointed out a few pelicans in a
cypress tree covered in Spanish moss. Turtles sunned on a log and a
crab crawled along the bank. A bullfrog the size of Vivian’s head
jumped off a floating log and made a splash as they zoomed past. An
egret stood in the mangroves, ankle deep, looking for something to
eat.
Adrienne cut through the marsh, taking them
farther into the swamp. She yelled over the roar of the engine,
“We’re going to Daddy’s favorite honey hole, where he catches the
biggest gators.”
“I’ve heard them say that on ‘Swamp People’!”
Kate said and clapped.
Adrienne slowed as she drew close to the
spot. Sure enough, an eight-footer sat along the bank.
“That’s a lot of purses,” Lucy said, “and
shoes!”
Adrienne laughed and opened the bag of
Cheetos. She tossed the gator a few and he slowly swam to them,
raised himself and snarfed them out of the water. Those down the
hatch, Adrienne handed the bag to Vivian, who threw out two
handfuls, then ate a few and licked the orange powder from her
fingers.
“I knew they liked marshmallows. I didn’t
know they liked Cheetos,” Vivian said as another gator swam up on
the other side of the boat.
“It’s an ancient Cajun secret,” Adrienne
joked.
Kate took
the bag and dumped the rest in for the new guy. “I heard a tour
guide lost his hand feeding a gator
and
got a fine. I’m not risking
it!”
Feeding time over, Adrienne pulled up to the
bank, where the grass was matted down. She hopped out. “This must
be one of the gator’s favorite spots. I gotta tell Daddy.”
Vivian caught movement out of the corner of
her eye and turned in time to see something splash into the water,
next to the boat. “What was that?”
Adrienne squinted. “Just a nutria. They won’t
mess with ya.”
“Get back in the boat!” Wendy yelled.
Adrienne looked around. “Why?”
“You’re making me nervous. What if one of the
gators comes out of the water real quick?”
She laughed. “Then grab the shotgun!”
“We might be from Texas, but we don’t know
what to do with a gun.”
Vivian heard the hum of an engine and turned
to see an airboat with two guys in overalls. Their long hair and
scruffy beards waved in the wind as they rounded the bend and sped
right at the girls. A Confederate flag waved off the back of the
boat.
Adrienne got back in and pushed off the bank.
“I hate these guys, the idiot Breaux brothers.” She grabbed the .38
out of the console and tucked it into her waistband, then handed
the shotgun to Wendy, who sat in the other co-pilot seat. Adrienne
gave a quick demonstration, flicking the safety on and off a few
times. “If I give the signal, take the safety off, aim anywhere in
their direction and pull the trigger.” She cranked the engine and
yelled, “Y’all need to hang on!”
T
he
airboat with the two bearded men flew on top of the water, headed
straight toward the girls. Adrienne took off, cutting across tall
grasses in the marsh.
“Who is that?” Vivian yelled and glanced
back. The guys were following them.
“Coupla coon-asses,” Adrienne yelled.
“Trouble.”
The guys were in a smaller airboat and
closing in. Adrienne banked a hard right, cutting through more tall
grass. The guys didn’t anticipate the turn and lost some ground but
soon caught up.
Adrienne swerved hard to miss a gator and
Vivian lost her grip. She jerked and hit her ribs on the metal
handle on the side of the boat.
Kate reached out for her and pulled her back.
“Don’t fall in! They’ll run over you!”
“I’m trying not to!”
The coon-ass boat flew up behind them, only
inches away. Adrienne, unable to go any faster, yelled to the
girls, “I’ve got a plan. Hang on!”
The other boat rammed them. Adrienne held up
her left hand and gave them the finger. They were so close Vivian
could see one of the brothers smirking to the other with a
yellow-toothed grin.
Adrienne swerved hard to the left toward an
open-water pond lined with cypress trees.
“We’re trapped!” Vivian yelled, but then she
saw what Adrienne was aiming for — a three-foot wall of sticks and
mud, the work of a busy beaver. On the other side of the dam lay
more open water.
“Get ready!” Adrienne said as they neared.
“This might hurt!”
The airboat launched through the air and
Vivian yelled, “Aiiiyyyeeeeeeeee!” She held on for dear life.
The airboat hit the water hard, jolting
everyone, but no one flew out. Adrienne let off the throttle and
turned to the left.
The coon-asses didn’t fare as well. They
attempted the dam but went over at an angle and landed too far to
the right. The driver couldn’t maintain control and veered off
course, crashing onto the bank amongst the trees. The airboat
landed on its right side, and the brothers flew into the grass.
Adrienne shot them the finger again while the
girls cheered.
“Take that, suckas!” Lucy shouted.
Just to show off, Adrienne swung the airboat
around and jumped the dam again. The girls yee-hawed as they went
by. Adrienne steered them back to her parents’ and the girls got
off, glad to be on solid ground.
“That was some ride,” Vivian said, giving
Adrienne a high-five. “Bravo!”
She grinned. “I’ve been piloting since I was
old enough to climb up in the chair. Those guys may have had a
faster boat, but they didn’t stand a chance. Sorry we didn’t get to
go fishing, though.”
“
That was
almost like
Deliverance
,” Lucy said. “I think I heard banjos.”
Adrienne laughed. “I wasn’t that worried. I
never had to give Wendy the signal.”
“Thank goodness for that,” Wendy said. “Last
time I held a gun, I shot my brother in the butt. It was just a BB
gun, but still!”
This got a round of laughs as they walked to
the house. The Robichauxs greeted them on the porch and Adrienne
told them about their coon-ass adventure.
“I’ll have a talk with their daddy,” Mr.
Robichaux said. “Not that it’ll do much good. He’s a piece of
nutria rat shit, too.”
“Those boys are just into all kinds of things
lately,” Mrs. Robichaux said, wringing her hands on a dish towel.
“Just the other day I was at the grocer and somebody they’d been
talking to almost hit my car in the parking lot. I waved, trying to
be friendly, and tell him it was okay, and you know what he did? He
shot me the bird.” She raised her middle finger in display.
“You didn’t tell me about this,” Adrienne’s
dad said, getting more pissed by the moment and gently taking her
hand down.
“Oh, Billy, it was fine.” She rubbed his
shoulder.
“That’s no way to treat a lady,” he said.
“Well, it turned out all right. But that boy
in the hot rod, I’ve seen him parked over at the Benoits’ camp,
which surprised me since it’s usually empty. Maybe the kids finally
sold it?”
“I don’t remember seein’ a for sale sign or
hearin’ anybody talking about it. That kind of stuff usually comes
up.”
“Well, it’s over now, Billy. Don’t go messin’
with that man in the hot rod or those two Breaux boys. They’re
trouble.”
Wendy, a car buff, asked, “So what kind of
hot rod was that guy driving?”
“It’s the one that’s still real popular with
the kids. Antonio had one when he was a teenager.”
Adrienne looked at the girls. “Mustang.” She
turned to her mom. “What color was it?”
“Dark, almost black but not quite. Looked
real pretty. Very shiny.”
“Damn kids these days,” Mr. Robichaux said.
“Gets my blood pressure going. I gotta sit down.” He went inside
and Mrs. Robichaux followed, the screen door slamming behind
her.
Vivian turned to Adrienne. “You thinking what
I’m thinking?”
Adrienne pulled out her phone. “I’m calling
Antonio.” He didn’t pick up so she left him a message, describing
their mother’s encounter with the Mustang guy and seeing the same
car at the Benoits’ place. “I’m driving by there on our way out.
I’ll call ya after. Love ya, little bro.” Click.
“Don’t say a word to my parents,” Adrienne
whispered. “Let’s get going.”
They all went inside and the girls thanked
her parents again for the delicious meal and the hospitality. Rex
and Roux followed the SUV down the drive, barking and wagging the
whole way. Adrienne took the girls back to the highway but turned
the opposite direction from where they’d come, and soon after she
turned down a different dirt road, one that was bumpier and full of
holes. Overgrown brush and trees lined the path.
The SUV bounced along and Adrienne said, “The
Benoit camp has been mostly unused since Maggie and Burt passed
away a few years ago. For a while the family would come out around
holidays, but lately the place has just sat. I can’t imagine the
kids selling it without letting folks around here know. A lot of
times, neighbors will buy up places like that to expand, you
know.”
She parked in the grass just after pulling
into the drive. “We’ll have to walk, need to maintain our element
of surprise. It’s only a quarter mile, maybe less.” She pulled her
Lady out of her purse and popped open the glove box. She dug around
for a moment, then took out a Swiss Army knife. “Never know.”
The girls walked slowly down the road and
went around a bend. A dilapidated trailer sat on cinder blocks,
right along the banks of the bayou. A sleek, gray Mustang was
parked in the grass out front.
Adrienne hustled the girls into the trees,
where they ducked down, and pulled out her phone. “I’m texting
Antonio the license plate.”
Vivian, using her 20/20, called the numbers
and letters out to her.
“Let’s give Antonio a few minutes to get back
with me.”
Two or three quiet minutes passed, then a
tall man wearing a grungy wife-beater and camouflage shorts walked
out onto the stoop. He had a large potbelly, pale bird legs and
carried a shotgun. He looked around, then yelled, “I know you out
there, motherfuckers, I heard ya. There ain’t nothin’ here for you,
so get the hell out.” He cocked the gun and lifted it up, scanning
the perimeter.
The sound of glass breaking came from the
side of the trailer and he took off in that direction. “Goddammit,
sonofabitch!”
A girl screamed and he yelled and cussed some
more before coming back around the corner, squeezing Simone
Hitchens in a chokehold. She tore at his arm, kicking and trying to
break free.
He shoved her up the three steps and into the
door. “You better stop this shit, bitch, or you’ll end up with the
other one.”
Vivian’s heart raced. She couldn’t believe
she was seeing the missing exotic dancer whose face had been
broadcast all over the news.
After he slammed the door, Adrienne snapped
to attention and handed Wendy her car keys and phone. “Keep calling
Antonio until he answers. Y’all get back to the car. Kate, you call
911 and tell them what’s going on at the old Benoit place on Water
Moccasin Lane.”
Wendy dug into her purse, pulled out pepper
spray and handed it to Lucy, then she and Kate ran back to the
car.
“What should we do?” Vivian asked.
A terrifying scream and a crash came from the
trailer and Adrienne replied, “This guy’s probably going to kill
her.” She flipped open the Swiss Army knife and handed it to
Vivian. “Puncture a back tire but keep the knife. I’m going into
the house. Y’all stay behind me and keep low.” With that, she took
off running across the clearing to the trailer.
V
ivian’s
adrenaline kicked in as she stabbed the driver’s side, rear tire of
the Mustang. Air hissed as she yanked the three-inch blade from the
sidewall. She ran to the right side of the step and crouched as
Adrienne kicked in the door, .38 pointed in front of
her.
“Drop the gun!” Adrienne yelled, then ducked
as a shot rang out and the side of the doorframe exploded. Pieces
blew onto Lucy, who was to the left of the steps, back flush
against the dirty siding.
Adrienne returned fire. Pop! Pop!
Potbelly yelled and shot his gun again, this
time blasting out the window beside Vivian. She dropped the knife,
then ducked to the ground. Lucy, too.
“Motherfucker!” the guy yelled, and Adrienne
advanced into the trailer.
“Throw your weapon down! Do it now!”
The shotgun ratcheted and Adrienne fired
another shot. He screamed in agony and Adrienne yelled, “I said
drop it!”
He moaned, then said, “You fuckin’ bitch, you
shot me!”
“Damn right I did. I could’ve killed you,
asshole. Be grateful, ’cuz I still might.”
Vivian decided it was probably safe to look
inside. She crouched and peeked.
Adrienne kicked Potbelly’s shotgun toward the
door and well beyond his reach. She asked Simone, who was tucked
between the end of the couch and the wall, “Is there anyone else
here?”
Covering the side of her face, she answered,
“I don’t think so.”
“Vivian, pick up the shotgun and point it at
this piece of shit,” Adrienne said. “If he moves, shoot him.”
Vivian helped Lucy up, then went inside and
grabbed the shotgun. Though shaking, she held it on the guy, who
lay partially on dingy shag carpet and partially on crusty
linoleum, bleeding from his right shoulder and left arm. Lucy held
the pepper spray out toward him, too.