Murder in the Marsh

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Authors: Ramsey Coutta
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dotted the sky. Nothing to indicate an approaching hurricane. Daniel parked his truck by the ramp to prepare the boat for launch. Rachel pulled her red Sentra off to the side. As Daniel stepped out of his truck, a man came out of the marina office. He locked the door, and hurried over to Daniel.
    “I’m sorry sir, the marina is closed. Haven’t you heard? A hurricane is headed this way.”
    “Yes, sir,” Daniel responded. “I’ve heard, but we received a distress call from a resident out in Grand Bayou village. We need to go and retrieve her and her two children.”  
    “I’m sorry to hear about that, but the owner of the marina has told me not to allow anyone else to put in today. Even those who own camps further down have been told to depart. The owner doesn’t want to be legally responsible should something happen.”
    “You’re the manager here?” Daniel asked as he continued preparing his boat.
    “That’s right.”
    “What’s your name, sir?”
    “Hank.”
    “Hank, I want you to imagine that the woman who is stranded with her two children, one of them very sick, is your own wife and children. You can’t save them but you knew someone else could. Would you want that person to rescue your wife and children since you couldn’t?”
    The manager didn’t have words to respond. Daniel sensed he had made his point. He pulled out his government identification. “Look, I know the owner is concerned about being held legally responsible. This is my identification. I work for the US Department of the Interior. You don’t have to worry about me or the government taking any action against the owner. This is considered official business, which will absolve your owner of any liability. Okay?”
    “Yes, sir. That’s fine. I’m sorry. You can go ahead and launch your boat, but I have to leave. I’ve still got my family to evacuate. I‘m going to pull the wire across the entrance when I leave. I’ll place the key beside the pole it’s attached to. Just lock it and return the key when you leave.”
    “Agreed,” Daniel said with a nod.
    Daniel got the boat ready to launch. He backed the boat off the ramp, and it slid smoothly into the calm water. Rachel held the boat in place with a long rope connected to its bow. After Daniel parked the truck, he held the boat while Rachel climbed in. After climbing in himself, he started the powerful engines and slowly idled down the canal past the camps. Whereas normally on a Saturday, a lot of owners would be preparing to go fishing or just relaxing around their camp, today there were none. Smaller boats had been taken from their berths and hauled away. Larger shrimp boats had been securely tied off to the docks or pulled from the water. The more experienced owners left enough slack in the ropes so that the boat could rise as the water level did. Many owners had also boarded up their windows and cleared away any loose items from around the camps. Some camps, built ten feet high on pilings, were less susceptible to rising waters. However, many of the older camps built at ground level sat vulnerable to a storm surge.
    Once past the camps, Daniel pressed the throttle forward and the boat flew down the remainder of Happy Jack Canal. Coming to Grand Bayou Canal, they veered sharply right toward Grand Bayou village. A few more minutes passed and they reached the outskirts of the village. Grand Bayou appeared deserted. A few ducks meandered around the boat docks searching for a handout. Schools of mullet ruffled the placid surface of the water and formations of white egrets flew north overhead seemingly making their own evacuation. Grand Bayou village felt like an abandoned ghost town, except the main street and side streets were watery thoroughfares. The solitude in some senses was peaceful, but unnerving in another. A day or two ago, it had been a bustling shrimping community. Now it sat as a lifeless shell of its former self. Crab traps which would normally have been in the

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