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Tanner found theaddress using the GPS navigation. It was still wet here, but the rain had moved on. Marie and Jay Trichel had lived in a small shotgun house set back from the packed-shell road. These narrow houses had one hallway down the center length of the structure, with all the rooms on either side of the hallway. The idea was, if a bullet from a shotgun were to enter the front door, it would pass through the entire house without hitting anything before passing out the back door.
There were loads of shotgun houses all over Louisiana, but mostly in the southern part of the state down in New Orleans and throughout the rural bayou areas. This was farther north, but plenty could still be found. Built in the time of the Civil War until around the 1920s, they were a thing of necessity during hard times, but enduring all the same.
“This is the house?” Lisa stood staring at her grandmother’s house on Lemon Street. There was a tiny pond out back that a few other homes backed up to as well. The homes were well spaced, not exactly a neighborhood, but not completely rural either.
It was clearly old, the paint peeled and cracked where it once had been painted white. The number seven on the house had lost its top screw and was hanging like an L. “This is it. Number 227 Lemon Street.”
“It appears empty now.” There were several cracked and broken windows, but still there were curtains that hung inside. The full porch seemed a sad protector of the home at this late stage.
They stood on the white packed-shell driveway where the grass grew in a strip between the old tire tracks. Weeds and dandelions were mixed with the grass. It was…unkept.
“Says on Zillow that the property is for sale, but I don’t see a sign.” Carly looked it up on her phone.
“I guess it doesn’t really matter, does it?” Lisa sounded disappointed.
A large, noisy, truck pulled up, its engine vibrating without a muffler, the stink of exhaust nearly overwhelming. “Y’all folks looking for something out here?”
Tanner had to look up to see the occupants of the truck. Two males, dirty, covered in tattoos, leered at them. “We’re looking for my friend’s grandmother. She’s been out of touch for a while.”
“Now, how’d you go about losing your granny, little missy?” The passenger asked his question of Lisa, then spit a long stream of tobacco juice not far from Tanner’s boot, but he didn’t flinch.
Lisa’s eyes narrowed, and Tanner hoped she wouldn’t lose her cool with these two, who were clearly troublemaking. “Not sure. Did you know her? She lived here.” Lisa pointed to the house.
“Naw, un-uh. That there house has been empty for a few years. Just some kids doin’ dope up inside sometimes. Don’t know any grannies who lived there.”
“Thank you for your help.” Tanner lifted a hand to the two guys and made eye contact with both Carly and Lisa and cut his eyes toward his own truck, hoping they got the message to move that way.
“Y’all sure you don’t need anything else? We’ve gotresourcesif you know what I mean.” Drugs, for sure.
“Thanks, but we’re heading out now. Appreciate the information.” He unlocked the truck and both Lisa and Carly both didn’t waste a second getting inside. Tanner climbed in before things could escalate with the drug dealers.
“Nice truck. Them’s expensive.” He hooted to his buddy. “I’d like to have me a nice truck like that someday, wouldn’t you, Darrell? And some pretty ladies to ride in it with us.”
Darrell, aka, tobacco-spitter, howled with laughter. “I’d like me some tail like that, for shore.”
Tanner was certain these two were armed to the teeth inside that monster-polluter truck of theirs. “We’ve got an appointment at the courthouse in a few minutes. Nice to meet you both.” Tanner had heard both women buckle their seat belts as soon as they’d climbed inside, so he threw up a wave and took off.
“Are they following us?” There was an edge to Lisa’s voice.
Tanner kept one eye on his rearview mirror as he drove at top speed directly toward the courthouse, which also housed the parish sheriff’s department, as was common in small towns across the state. Fortunately, these guys weren’t likely to want to race Tanner to that destination.
“Looks like we’re in the clear.” The courthouse was only a two-mile drive from where they’d been.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have told them where to find us.” Was that a touch of sarcasm from Carly?
“Yes, but what outlaw’s going to follow somebody to the police station?”
She snorted. “Touché. But you might consider parking out back among the patrol cars.”
That wasn’t a bad idea. The back lot had several large black SUVs with the parish law enforcement logo on them. Tanner’s black truck could easily be missed among them. “Good call.”
They looked around before heading inside the rear entrance of the courthouse. No outlaws in sight. “What an adventure we’re having today.” Lisa gave a nervous laugh.
Once inside, they made their way to the front desk inside the lobby. A woman with large glasses that hung on a chain greeted the trio. Well, she mostly greeted Tanner. “Well, hello, sir, and how may I help you on this fine day?”
He stepped forward and gave her a quick head nod and noticed her nametag. “Hi there, Rose. We’re from Cypress Bayou in Natchitoches Parish and wondered if you could help us. My friend Lisa here is looking for her grandmother, Marie Trichel. She lived on Lemon Street several years ago, but we can’t figure out where she’s gone.”
The woman’s brows knitted, and her expression was almost comical. “Your grandma’s gone and disappeared on you?” She directed the question at Lisa. It was slightly reminiscent of the outlaw’s same:How’d you lose your granny?
