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“How is she?” asked Gaspar when his sisters walked into the office. Marie and Claudette both looked exhausted but shrugged their shoulders.

“The same, Gaspar. She’s in pain and missing Duckie. She doesn’t want to leave the house. Angel and Max are there now, hoping that his friend John Brown shows up.”

“Y’all look exhausted,” said Gaspar, hugging his sisters, kissing their foreheads.

“Watching her crumble every time she sees something that reminds her of him is heartbreaking,” said Claudette. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost Jake suddenly or Marie were to lose Dex. It just doesn’t seem fair, Gaspar.”

“I know,” he nodded. “Go get some rest. We’ll make sure there are people there for her.” The women nodded at him, leaving the offices. Nine stared at Gaspar and shook his head.

“This one is close, Gaspar. It’s hitting everyone differently. Duckie wasn’t part of our team, per se, but he was part of our greater family. I can’t fathom why he’d do something so stupid.”

“I’m guessing his friend convinced him that it was good, and they could make money. I mean, think about it. He knew Duckie was working at the General Store. If he could convince him that it could sell, they’d make money. He didn’t know that he’d have to go through us. I doubt Duckie told him who we really are. He wouldn’t do that.”

“That’s true,” nodded Nine. “I think we need to find those more remote bars in the bayou that Robey told us about. I know the kinds of places he’s talking about. We need to be careful about who we send in there. Those boys from the bayou can be dangerous and don’t like outsiders much. Which does make me question how this man is getting the stills put in.”

“I would imagine it’s the promise of money,” said Gaspar. “Most of these men and women haven’t ever had more than a mediocre paycheck. Enough to pay their rent, utilities, that sort of thing. If he was promising something more, they might have jumped at it.”

“I guess we dive in and see what we can see,” said Nine.

“Not me. People know my family and know me, my face. You too, Nine. They’ve seen us around and would recognize us. We need to send someone not related to me or you. Trak is a good one because he’s dark enough to look Creole or Cajun. We might also think about sending Bull and Otto.”

“Those work,” nodded Nine. They sent the three men text messages and asked them to meet in the office building. They walked in, looking as if they knew what was going to be asked of them.

“You guys good with this?” asked Nine.

“If it’s going to the bayou bars to see if we can find out anything, I’m in,” said Bull.

“Don’t drink any of that shit they give you, Bull. I know you’re smarter than that, but that stuff will kill you,” said Gaspar.

“I know, man. Don’t worry about me. We’ll stay together, visit one or two tonight, and do the same in a few more nights. We don’t want them to think we’re scoping the place.”

“Just be careful. This guy is desperate, and we need to watch for him. Hopefully, the boys will find this Brown guy soon, and we can get more information.”

“We found him,” said Code, walking into the room with a sheet of paper in his hand. “This is his address. Police and coroner are there now.”

“He’s dead?” frowned Nine.

“Afraid so. Next door neighbor heard his dogs barking and knew something was wrong. They said he loved those dogs more than he loved his truck. When the police got there, they could see him lying face down on the floor in the kitchen. Estimates are that he’s been dead for at least three days.”

“Looks like this will be you and me,” said Gaspar. “You boys be careful and keep comms on. We can be in the bayou in no time.”

“Not to worry,” smirked Bull. “Alvin’s accompanying the boat.”

“Gaspar, Nine, what y’all doin’ here?” asked the deputy.

“Trying to find information on him if we can,” said Nine. “How’d he die?”

“Looks like he shot himself. Left a note that he was responsible for the death of his friend, some guy named Duckie.”

“Damn,” muttered Gaspar. “We wanted to speak to him about that. We think he was operating an illegal still and gave some of the liquor to Duckie, which is what killed him.”

“Well, the boys found some empty bottles that had a pretty powerful smell. They were looking for a still in the woods back there but didn’t find one. They did find a flattened space that looked like maybe it did have a still there at one time.”

“Can we take a look?” asked Gaspar.

“When have you ever asked me for permission?” laughed the deputy.

“Turning over a new leaf, Charlie.” They laughed as they walked toward the woods and followed the worn path to the flat patch that he spoke of. There were two stacks of wood, several empty bottles, and some random pieces of copper tubing lying around.

“Well, it definitely looks like he was making moonshine,” frowned Nine. “But why get rid of the majority of the evidence and then kill yourself?”

“Good question,” said Gaspar. “And where did he put it? He didn’t have a garage or shed.”

“I’m thinking someone else came and took the evidence,” said Nine. “And if that’s true, I’m going to bet that he didn’t shoot himself at all.”

“He didn’t,” said the coroner, walking toward the men. “Charlie said you were back here. The angle of the bullet is all wrong to be self-inflicted. Plus, John was left-handed. The shooter was right-handed. Also, he’s been dead between forty-eight and seventy-two hours. The dogs were fed this morning. There’s still food in their bowls, and there’s fresh piles on the floor.

“Now, unless John came back from the dead, fed his dogs, let them shit on the floor, and then went dead again, someone killed that man, came back and took the still and felt bad for the dogs, so they fed them.” Gaspar stared at Nine, then back at the coroner.

“So, we’ve got an animal-loving killer with a conscience. Great.”