Cogent E-Book

Debra Bliss

• Herausgeber: BooxAi
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Jack Cogent, a tough tenacious crime investigator, had devoted his life to his career with the New Orleans Sheriff's Department. When Cogent gets too close to solving a case involving the Sheriff's nephew, he is terminated from the force. The Sheriff has hired a new investigator named Ralph Henry. Cogent and Henry team up and compare notes along the way. Together, will they be able to solve the case and take the arrogant Sheriff down?

Leseprobe

Cogent

DEBRA BLISS

Debra Bliss

Cogent

All rights reserved

Copyright © 2022 by Debra Bliss

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Published by BooxAi

ISBN: 978-965-578-002-4

All the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Contents

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

ChapterOne

The air was muggy in the county Sheriff's office on the hot Louisiana summer day. June and July had flown by relatively fast as Jack Cogent had diligently worked on the case assigned to him. Cogent had put his heart and soul into the investigation, working long hours into the night. He was not only industrious but smart. However, these qualities went unnoticed by his superiors. Cogent appeared clumsy at times and came off as somewhat uncultivated to his peers, with disheveled mannerisms. He had spent his entire career investigating and solving crimes in the area. Cogent was a very tenacious detective. He never missed a beat.

Cogent flipped off the light as he stood at the doorway of the dimly lit office, looking back at the stack of papers on the desk relating to the case he had worked so hard on. The desk would now be assigned to another detective. Cogent grabbed the crate that was packed with the scant amount of his personal belongings. He was in a sour mood, as he had just received his walking papers. Just one more month, and he could have solved the homicide. Cogent now regretted getting personally involved in the case. He felt a deep sense of remorse. Things could have turned out differently for him if Madison Southworth just hadn't tempted him. Cogent had met Madison through a mutual friend. Madison had been caught tampering with evidence at the crime scene. The Sheriff had found out about the affair between Cogent and Madison. Cogent just couldn't resist the allure of Madison. He had lost his focus on the case as she distracted him. And this now cost him his career. He was busted. The Sheriff had been looking for a reason to get rid of Cogent. And this was the perfect setup. Cogent had no way of knowing that the southern beauty was involved in the case. He not only felt sorry for her but also was captivated by her.

The Sheriff sauntered down the hallway toward Cogent. He stopped and extended his hand to Cogent. Cogent turned his head away. He couldn't face the man who had just fired him. Cogent was angry with the Sheriff. He knew the Sheriff could have helped him if he had wanted to. There had always been somewhat of a rivalry between the two. The Sheriff had always felt intimidated by Cogent for some reason. Now the Sheriff stood with his shoulders erect and a smirk on his face. Cogent could sense the Sheriff's haughtiness, and he resented it. Cogent pulled the door to and briskly walked away.

Cogent drug his feet as he proceeded across the blacktopped parking lot to his car. He didn't have anywhere to go now. It was early in the evening, and he didn't know what to do with himself. He hadn't had a night off in years. What would he do at this stage of the game? He was forty-four. This was too late to start a new career. Besides, Cogent didn't know anything but investigative work. That had been his dream. From the time he graduated from the police academy, he knew that his passion was investigating crimes. He begrudgingly scooted into the driver's seat. He rested his hands on the hot steering wheel and hung his head. He shook off the feeling for the moment and started the old car. He decided to stop off at the local tavern. He had never been a drinker. He never had any time for that.

Cogent sauntered into the tavern. It was a dive. The stench of alcohol overtook him. He sat at the bar and placed his drink order. The bartender was adept at reading people and knew Cogent was despondent. He poured Cogent a drink and asked him if he wanted to talk. Cogent shrugged his shoulders and mumbled something as he took a gulp of the strong drink. The bartender began wiping the shiny bar with his damped cloth.

“Well, if you want to talk about it, I'm here to listen,” the bartender reassured Cogent. The bartender had heard it all before but made a convincing attempt to appear interested in Cogent's plight. Cogent sat quietly for a few minutes and then decided to take the bartender up on his offer.

“I used to be a private investigator at the Sheriff's department. Until today, that is,” Cogent began his story with a dejected tone.

“How's that?” the bartender feigned his interest in the memoir.

“I got fired, that's all,” Cogent proceeded to recant the entire story to the bartender. This was therapeutic for him, in a way. Cogent had a lot of anger bottled up inside, and it felt good to get a stranger's take on it. He sat at the bar most of the evening, visiting with the bartender. Cogent elaborated on how he had met the twenty-eight-year-old beauty and how she had become involved with his work. The bartender continued to pretend to listen intently, although he didn't hear half of what Cogent had said. Cogent left the bar around ten o'clock and drove home.

When Cogent arrived home, there was a message on his answering machine. He reticently pushed the button to retrieve his message. It was Madison Southworth. She had gotten wind of his termination and wanted to speak with him. He reluctantly dialed her number. Madison wasn't home. He left a message on her answering machine that he had returned her call. He wondered what she was up to. Cogent had just broken off the relationship with Madison in an effort to salvage his career. Madison appeared to take the news hard. Cogent hated to let her go, but he knew the Sheriff was just itching to find something on him. Cogent had thought that he and Madison could take up where they left off once he had solved the case. He never anticipated that he would be fired over the affair.

Cogent had tossed and turned all night. He had managed to dose off for a few hours out of sheer mental exhaustion. It was six a.m. He slowly crawled out of bed and rubbed his tired eyes. He went out to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. The pungent aroma of the coffee reminded him, once more, of the office. He meandered around the house for a time. He didn't know where to turn. He threw on his clothes and went out to the car. He decided to run uptown and get a newspaper.

There it was! The front-page headline read, “Local man implicated in homicide investigation.” How could this be? Cogent wandered to himself. Cogent could not believe his eyes! He swallowed hard and looked at the words again. His first thought was that the Sheriff had leaked the news. The investigation had not been completed yet, and there was no way the newspaper could have gotten the news except through the Sheriff's department. Cogent knew the man was linked in connection to the crime. And he also knew the facts weren't lining up. Cogent's curious nature took over. He pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and dialed Bill Spence. Spence had been on the force for years. Spence was a rough cut but had a heart of gold. He and Cogent were close friends and had worked on several complex cases together. Spence would have an inside lead on what was going on.

“Hello,” Spence answered in a light-hearted manner. He was in his patrol car and driving his usual route.

“Bill, it's Jack. I just saw the headlines. What's happening with the case?” Cogent questioned him.

“C'mon, Jack. You know I couldn't tell you anything even if I knew. If I said anything, Sheriff Lee would have my head on a platter!” Bill warned Cogent.

“You know I worked hard on that case. I think I am entitled to a little something here!” Cogent persisted. “Jack, give it up! You don't work for the Sheriff's department anymore. Remember? By the way, I am sorry...” Bill didn't know what to say. He knew Cogent was hurting. Bill recalled the way Cogent's face lit up every time he was nearing the end of a case.

“Forget it!” Cogent said in a terse tone and abruptly ended the call. He shoved his cell phone back into his jacket pocket and resumed reading the newspaper. Cogent attempted to get his mind off the case. He skipped to the want ads. He eyed an advertisement for a private investigator at a local firm in Metairie. There have been plenty of these jobs since the hurricanes hit. As people had moved out, the businesses were building back up and needed qualified people. Cogent still, after all, had his PI license. He needed a job. Cogent wasn't a man to just sit around. And he knew the area well, being born and raised in New Orleans. He circled the ad and headed off to the agency.

“Yes, sir, may I help you?” the neatly attired receptionist said in a welcoming tone as Cogent approached the desk of the Detective Agency.

“Yeh, I'm here about the PI job,” Cogent informed the receptionist.

“Well, we will need for you to complete some preliminary paperwork first. And I need to make a copy of your license, Sir,” the receptionist explained as she handed him the application packet.

“Thanks,” Cogent said in an unenthusiastic manner as he grabbed the paperwork and sat down in the plush velvet chair of the reception area. Cogent resented this. He knew he was capable of doing more than what this job entailed. A few days ago, he was working on big cases, and now he had to resort to this. He completed the paperwork and handed it to the receptionist.

“That's fine. Thank you. We have arranged for an interview for you tomorrow,” the receptionist handed him the appointment card with the information on it.

Cogent couldn't resist driving by the Sheriff's office.

He drove by slowly and glanced in the windows. All was abuzz, as usual. Spence was getting in his car. Cogent pulled up next to the car and stopped.

“Don't even start it. Please, Jack. I really don't want the Sheriff to see me talking to you out here like this!” Bill Spence attempted to dismiss Cogent.

“I was just going to say hello,” Cogent replied in a dejected manner.

“Yeh, I know. So, hello and goodbye, Jack,” Bill said as he climbed into the patrol car and sped off.

Cogent took off and headed toward the crime scene. He couldn't help himself. He still wondered if he had missed something on the case. He drove to the river where the old woman had drowned. She was bludgeoned to death and then drowned in the river. The case continued to haunt him. Something wasn't right. Who had wanted her dead? And why? He continued to ask himself questions. It was like he was never off the case. Cogent had interviewed several people in the region. He had questioned all the victim's friends and relatives as well as completed background checks on all of them. Nothing had really checked out. The only thing that made sense was that the old lady had been very affluent. There had been a string of these murders in the area. Cogent had not had time to check court documents yet. He decided to head to the courthouse to do a little more research. Besides, these were public documents, and the Sheriff could not stop him from looking at them.

The secretary at the courthouse, Beatrice Crump, knew Cogent well. She greeted him in her usual friendly manner as he made his way up the granite staircase of the rotunda. The old building smelled musty. It had been decorated ornately in the 'old style' tradition and managed to fare quite well through the hurricanes. Cogent felt right at home in the courthouse. He knew his way around and requested to see any records pertaining to Lydia Secrest. Cogent pretty much had free rein to peruse through any documents available at the courthouse in the line of duty.

“What happened to her, Jack?” the document secretary asked inquisitively. She was the nosey type and liked to find out all the gossip. She had no inkling that Cogent had been released from his duties.

“I'm not really sure yet,” Cogent said as he pulled out his glasses and began leafing through the documents. Cogent forgot his troubles for the moment and began to absorb all the information, on the documents, like a sponge. He had an eye for detail. This was what made him a great detective. He took note that the victim had been related to some of the local law enforcement. That intrigued him as some of the other victims had also been related as well. He wondered if there had been a correlation with the common denominator in this case. His next step would be to check out the backgrounds of some of the relatives. He would not let any detail go unchecked. Cogent requested birth and death records on a few of the victims of associated cases. The document secretary looked at him with a raised brow.

“Now, don't go jumping to conclusions,” Cogent warned the secretary. He knew her wheels were spinning too, as she handed him the records. Cogent quickly took some notes and handed the documents back to her.

“What did you find out?” the secretary quizzed Cogent.

“Nothing, really,” Cogent made light of the situation in an effort to dispel the secretary's interest in the case. He didn't want her talking to the Sheriff or asking too many questions.

Cogent exited the courthouse and made his way out to the parking lot. He fumbled with the key to the old jalopy. He heard another car door open and noticed the Sheriff getting out of the patrol car a lane over. The Sheriff made a bead on Cogent and turned toward him. The Sheriff placed the large brimmed hat atop his head and strode over in an erect manner to chastise Cogent. The Sheriff knew Cogent was capable of continuing his investigation even though he was terminated from the department. Cogent quickly got into the car to avoid the Sheriff. But it was too late. The Sheriff pecked on the window of Cogent's car. Cogent begrudgingly rolled the car window down as the Sheriff bent down to speak to him.

“What are you doing here, Cogent? I hope you're not sticking your nose into where it ought not to be!” the Sheriff warned Cogent in his Louisiana drawl. The Sheriff had a pretty good idea that Cogent wouldn't give up on the matter so easily.

“I don't know what you mean,” Cogent attempted to act ignorant.

“I think you know darn well what I mean!” the Sheriff stated in an intimidating manner.

“I was here on personal business,” Cogent retorted.

“Well, we'll just find out what business when I talk to Ms. Crump. Won't we? If I find out that you are still sticking your nose into this case, there will be trouble!” the Sheriff responded in a terse tone.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Cogent shook his head and rolled the window up, discarding the warning that the Sheriff had given him. He put the car in drive and pulled slowly out of the parking space. Cogent would, once again, head out to the scene of the crime. Perhaps he had overlooked some small detail. He couldn't let go. He was too close to solving this thing. Even if he wasn't working for the department anymore, he couldn't resist checking things out further. As he drove along, he constantly checked his rearview mirror to ensure that no one was following him. The coast was clear. He pulled up alongside the steel green bridge next to Pontchartrain Boulevard, at the site where the sixty-five-year-old Lydia Secrest had drowned. Cogent hoped that his car would not get stuck in the moist sand. The large support beam of the massive bridge was encased in cement. Many tourists had stopped to eye the impressive structure. It was the pride of New Orleans. Cogent wasn't interested in the bridge. He was too locked into the mystery of the case to even notice the grand structure. He pulled his field binoculars out of the glove box and peered through them to take a look at the filmy water.

Moss lay atop the surface of the water, and steam was emitted in the air. Cogent pulled off his jacket and made his way over to the water's edge at the concrete seawall. He stared down at the lofty drop-off. He knew the woman couldn't have possibly thrown herself off the bridge in the shape she was in. Her skull was fractured, and she was severely disfigured from the bludgeoning that she had been subjected to. Forensics had recreated the scene. Cogent questioned the accuracy of the forensics report, though. The report had indicated that she had drowned prior to the beating. He knew that there was no way it could have occurred in that order. He wondered why anyone would have suspected that it had. Was it a coincidence that the other victims had suffered this same fate? Cogent went back over to his car and pulled out the disposable camera. He looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. Cogent quickly snapped several pictures of the bridge, the waterway, and the drop-off. He would review them later. Cogent then hopped back into the dilapidated old car and sped off down the highway.

ChapterTwo

Madison Southworth, the twenty-eight-year-old southern beauty, stood nervously at the counter of the immaculately kept family-owned pharmacy. She proceeded to count out the orange pills to fill the prescription order. She couldn't get her mind off of the recent transgression she had made. She had graduated Magna Cum Laude from Louisiana State University and went on to obtain her degree in pharmacology. She had worked hard and fulfilled her dream of becoming a registered pharmacist. One little slip and her hopes and aspirations would be shot down the tube.

Madison was generally very meticulous in her work, but she had been in a rush that day that the sixty-five-year-old Lydia Secrest came in with her prescription from the physician. Madison had made a terrible mistake and incorrectly filled the order for the blood pressure medication. She had not realized the mistake until another customer came in to complain that he had received the wrong medication a few days later. By then, it was too late. Madison attempted to contact Ms. Secrest to straighten the mess out. She was unable to get a hold of her by telephone. She had left a message on Ms. Secrest's answering machine for her to call the pharmacy as soon as possible. Madison had kept her fingers crossed that her boss would not find out about the mistake. This was her first job as a pharmacist, and she was newly employed. Mr. Ringer, the drugstore owner and manager, was a stickler and would not tolerate unhappy customers, not to mention the potential of a lawsuit. Madison had soon found out that Ms. Secrest was missing when Jack Cogent came into the pharmacy to question her about Lydia Secrest. Madison knew that she had to get the misappropriated script back and fast before anyone found out. She had used her charms on Cogent to find out more about Ms. Secrest. Madison's charms had worked on Cogent. He was flattered that a gal nearly half his age, as well as beautiful, would pay attention to him. They became close, and Cogent let her in on the case. Cogent had no knowledge about the mistake on the prescription, only that Lydia Secrest had reportedly stopped off at the pharmacy a few days prior to her death.

Madison would keep that confidential, and when they found Lydia Secrest, Madison would quickly exchange the script for the correct one. It wouldn't be easy, though, in the limelight of the police investigation, for Madison to go undetected. She kept Cogent on the string, all the while finding out more about the case.

Cogent wined and dined Madison. He took her to all the finest restaurants that New Orleans had to offer. She tried to be discreet about the relationship. Her family would not approve of the older disheveled man. He wasn't her type, and her family had high hopes that Madison would land a high-powered executive type. She really had not had the time for men while pursuing her education. Madison had grown up in the Lakeview area. It wasn't as though men didn't look at her. She was exquisite with her long black hair, dark velvet eyes, and a figure that was to die for. Cogent had taken notice of this and was hooked at first glance. He had made frequent stops at the pharmacy on the pretense of investigating the case.

Madison questioned herself each time she filled a prescription now. The mistake was getting to her. The police had spotted her at the crime scene as she attempted to reach inside the wet jacket pocket that clung to the bludgeoned body of the victim lying on the gurney. Madison had taken the correctly filled bottle of pills with her and had planned to switch them. She recalled that day vividly as the officer yelled at her and came rushing over.

“What on earth are you doing?” the young officer questioned her.

“Oh, I am...” Madison tried to come up with a quick response but was so unnerved she couldn't think straight. She had dropped the bottle of pills that she had brought with her, to the crime scene, in the wet sand, and the officer confiscated them.

“What's this? What do we have here?” the officer asked as he raised his eyebrows as if to say she was caught red-handed.

“Well, you see...” Madison again tried to come up with a logical answer. The officer was not convinced and read her rights to her. He put the tight handcuffs on her tender wrists and ordered her into the back of the patrol car. They arrived at the station, and she called Cogent to bail her out. She couldn't tell her parents. Although her father was an affluent attorney, they would not understand. They expected perfection from Madison. Her parents would tolerate nothing less. Cogent rushed right over and put up bail money. She was freed within an hour.

The Sheriff questioned Cogent about his involvement with her and why she was tampering with evidence from the case. Cogent attempted to explain, and the Sheriff threw his hands in the air.

“Forget it!” the Sheriff stated as he dismissed Cogent in an arrogant manner.

“She's a friend of mine, that's all,” Cogent attempted to reassure the Sheriff that his intentions were good.

“Yeh, I've heard all about it, Cogent! Be in my office first thing in the morning!” the Sheriff directed to Cogent.

“Now, wait a minute,” Cogent attempted his rebuttal.

“I said first thing in the morning! Do you read me?” the Sheriff delighted in finding something on Cogent. He took revelry in his feat.

Madison knew she was responsible for Cogent's demise. She hated it. But she had no one else to turn to. The two had agreed to part ways that evening. She couldn't lead him on anymore. This thing had gone far enough. She did care about him, though.

Madison's thoughts drifted back to the bottle of pills she was currently counting. She must attend to the task at hand and forget what had happened. She was scared, though. Madison's hearing was fast approaching, and she was afraid that her father would get wind of it through his friends at the law firm. The lawyers talked and pretty much knew what was going on in the area with each other's clients. Madison had managed to keep her name out of the newspaper, threatening to sue the editor if he mentioned her name in the story.

Mr. Ringer, the store manager, smiled and nodded as he walked past the counter. He had no inkling that she was up on charges for possibly stealing drugs from a deceased woman's corpse. If he had, he would have instantly fired her, and she would lose her pharmacy license. There was so much riding on her proving her innocence. How would she explain the pills? What was she doing at the crime scene? She had to get a good lawyer and quick. But whom could she get? She would have to hire someone out of town if she wanted to continue to keep this from her father.

“Mr. Ringer, I need to leave early today,” Madison yelled out as Mr. Ringer walked over to the next aisle.

“Why?” Mr. Ringer questioned her. He had a lot of customers to tend to, and they needed their scripts filled. He couldn't afford to have her leaving early today.

“I need to take care of some personal business,” Madison said and flashed her pearly white smile at the pudgy little man.

“Oh, all right,” Mr. Ringer consented, as he couldn't resist the charms of the southern beauty either.

Madison hurriedly finished filling the orders that were lying before her on the counter. She gathered her things to take with her. In her rush, she nearly knocked the filled bottles off the counter. Mr. Ringer took notice of the commotion and gave her a sour look.

“I'm sorry,” Madison apologized. Mr. Ringer watched as she grabbed her sweater off the hook.

Madison made a mad dash out of the little drugstore and quickly climbed into the red compact coupe parked just outside. She pulled out and barely missed hitting another parked car. She knew she had to get ahold of herself. She drove into the town of Metairie. She went into the gift shop and asked the clerk if she had a telephone book that she might borrow. The gift shop was lovely and smelled of cinnamon. Madison loved this kind of thing, but her worry wouldn't allow her to take in the pleasantries.

“Why sure, hon. Here you go!” the clerk said as she handed her the well-worn yellow book. Madison fervently leafed through the book to the yellow pages, where she found the listing of the array of attorneys. She pulled out her cell phone from the small black purse and dialed the number of the first attorney listed.

“Dorn and Kline Associates. How may I direct your call?” the receptionist answered.

“Yes, I need an attorney,” Madison got directly to the point.

“Are you a client of ours?” the receptionist questioned Madison.

“No, I'm not. Is your firm taking on new clients?” Madison nervously asked.

“I will direct you to Mr. Dorn's secretary. Just one moment, please,” the receptionist directed her in a sterile manner. Madison waited impatiently as the classical music softly played from the earpiece of her cell phone.

“This is Ms. Broman. How may I help you?” Mr. Dorn's secretary addressed her.

“Well, this is Madison Southworth, and I need an attorney. Would Mr. Dorn take me on as a client?” Madison asked the secretary in a respectful but frantic tone.

“Let me take your name and number, and I will see if we can schedule an appointment for you, Ms. Southworth. May I tell Mr. Dorn what this is in reference to?” Ms. Broman asked.

“No, I would rather speak to him myself in regards to what I am needing,” Madison was careful not to disclose any additional information to the secretary.

“Very well then. I will contact you when we have the appointment scheduled,” Ms. Broman acknowledged Madison's need for privacy and took down the cell phone number.

Madison looked at the next attorney listed in the yellow book and considered calling another one in hopes of getting an appointment immediately. She changed her mind at the last minute and handed the book back to the gift shop clerk. She exited the shop and headed toward the area where her car was parked. She smelled the faint scent of men's cologne. It reminded her of the kind Cogent wore. She felt a sense that he was near. But Cogent wouldn't be here in Metairie. She shook it off and proceeded quickly down the sidewalk. Her heels clicked on the hot sidewalk. She stopped to take a breath of fresh air. She noted the men across the street were refurbishing a building that had been hit hard by the hurricanes. The town was rebuilding after the disaster. She was in awe of the well-structured town. She wondered for a brief moment that in the event that Mr. Ringer ever fired her, would she be able to get a job in this town. She seated herself in the car and pulled away from the curb. As she drove down the main street, she felt comfortable here and relaxed. She gazed at the storefronts as she slowly drove by. She spotted a man going into one of the local businesses. The man strongly resembled Cogent from the back. “Now I'm seeing things,” Madison said aloud to herself. She cringed as the ring emitted from her cell phone. She quickly pulled the phone out of her purse and answered.

“Hello,” Madison said in a nervous tone.

“Ms. Southworth?” the lady asked in a very polite and professional manner.

“Yes,” Madison answered with apprehension in her voice.

“This is Ms. Broman. Mr. Dorn said to tell you that if you wish, he could see you around 3:30 p.m. this afternoon,” Ms. Broman offered.

“Oh yes. That would be good. I'll be there around 3:00 p.m.,” Madison stated eagerly.

“Very well then,” Ms. Broman confirmed and ended the call. Madison breathed a sigh of relief and turned the car around. There was only an hour to kill before the appointment, and it would be senseless to drive back to Lakeshore. Besides, she would check out some of the local shops and seafood cuisine while she had the chance. It would help in getting her mind off of her troubles. She drove back by the business where she had seen the back of the gentleman that resembled Cogent. She slowed the car down and took a hard look at the business, but the man was gone. Madison questioned herself why Cogent would be in this town. She couldn't imagine him coming up here to shop. She knew he wasn't much of a shopper. He mostly stuck to business. Madison realized that when the couple went to restaurants that Cogent hadn't been much of a socialite. But he was polite and very kind to her, even if he didn't know the mastery of etiquette.

ChapterThree

Cogent arrived promptly for his scheduled interview with Jones Detective Agency in Metairie. He was scheduled to meet at 2:00 p.m. with Court Dexter for the private investigator job. Cogent sat in the pristine lobby for about half an hour and looked at his watch. He was becoming restless, waiting for the interview. After all, Cogent hadn't been to a job interview since he graduated from the police academy over twenty years ago. But he was confident that his experience would speak for itself. The fresh-faced twenty-five-year-old gentleman approached the lobby and extended his hand out to Cogent. This was not what Cogent had expected. Cogent imagined that he had solved more cases while the kid was in diapers than Court Dexter had seen in his young life. Cogent politely extended his hand to the young man and arose from the upholstered chair.

“Hi, Mr. Cogent. I'm Court Dexter. Nice to meet you,” the young man greeted Cogent.

“Yeh, nice to meet you,” Cogent attempted to present himself in an enthusiastic manner. But he was not overly excited about the job prospect.

“Come on back, and we can talk a bit about what this job entails,” Court smiled and escorted Cogent to the back office. Cogent trailed behind Court.

“Please have a seat. Tell me a little bit about yourself,” Court graciously encouraged Cogent.

“Well, I worked for the Sheriff's office in New Orleans and have recently been laid off,” Cogent said flatly.

“Why's that?” Court questioned him.

“Why's what?” Cogent asked as he looked at Court's young face.

“I mean, why did you become laid off?” Court clarified.

“Well, just a difference of opinion, I guess. That's why I'm here. I need a job,” Cogent cut to the chase.

“I see. And how long did you work for the Sheriff's Department, Mr. Cogent?” Court attempted to gather the background information on Cogent. He was taking notes. Cogent watched as Court took down every word of their conversation.

“Over twenty years, son,” Cogent replied.

“Please, call me Court!” Court quickly corrected Cogent. It showed on the young man's face that he was somewhat offended by the remark.

“Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that at my age...” Cogent put his foot in his mouth and was now trying to make up for the error.

“It's o.k. Tell me, what line of work were you in at the Sheriff's Department? What makes you feel as though this would be the right type of work for you, Mr. Cogent?” Court continued on with the interview.

“I was a crime scene investigator. And I was a good one! If I do say so!” Cogent affirmed.

“Well, sir, it looks as though you are more than qualified for this position. This job involves investigating the whereabouts of reported missing persons for the clients that we serve. Think you are still interested, Mr. Cogent?” Court asked.

“As a matter of fact, I think I am, son...er...Court. Sorry,” Cogent stuck his foot in his mouth again. But Cogent had the gleam back in his eye. He was excited to have the opportunity to be back in the game so quickly.

“Thank you, Mr. Cogent. Please report back here on Monday, and we'll get your orientation started,” Court said as he shook Cogent's hand one final time before exiting the office. Cogent walked out to his car with a new spring in his step. He had been pleasantly surprised by the opportunity that the job prospect unveiled. He just might enjoy this after all. He turned on the radio and put the car into drive. He pulled out of the small parking lot and onto the main street. The news came on the radio, and the newsman announced that there had been an update on the Lydia Secrest murder investigation. Cogent turned up the volume and listened intently. The newsman announced that there would be more information later to follow. The news was over, and music was now playing on the radio. Cogent had missed it. He still relished the thought of solving the case. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed Bill Spence.

“Hello,” Bill Spence answered the cell phone from his patrol car. Cogent could picture Spence driving around town covering the beat.

“Hey, Bill. It's Jack,” Cogent greeted him in a pleasant manner.

“Hey, what's up, Jack?” Bill suspected that Cogent was calling in another attempt to extract information from him about the case, but he didn't let on.

“Just wondered if you had heard anything...I mean...er...I mean I just wondered what was going on?” Cogent wasn't very good at lying. He had never been. It was just in his nature, to tell the truth.

“Going on with what, Jack?” Spence pled dumb. He knew exactly what Cogent meant after all the years of working with him in the Sheriff's Department.

“Oh, with anything. Anything new?” Cogent was still fishing.

“No, nothing. Not really anything, Jack. Same ole, same ole, you know,” Spence reassured Cogent in a friendly tone.

“Say, Spence, how would you like to check out that new Creole place down on Harrison Street tonight?” Cogent offered. If he could meet Spence somewhere private, he just knew he could get him to talk.

“Sorry. Not tonight, buddy. My wife and I have plans. But thanks anyway. Hey, listen, I'm gonna have to get off of here. I have to head back to the station pretty shortly,” Spence attempted to cut the conversation short in an effort to elude further questioning by Cogent.

“Oh. No problem. By the way, any news on the case, Spence?” Cogent could not resist asking just once more.

“Goodbye, Jack,” Spence stated firmly and ended the call. Cogent shook his head. He just couldn't get Spence to say anything. He turned the radio volume back up in hopes of hearing the latest report on the case. Cogent was becoming increasingly obsessed with the case. Perhaps when he started his new job, his interest in the case would subside. He pulled the car over to the curb as he noticed the disposable camera lying in the seat next to him. He had forgotten to get the film developed. He carefully opened the door to the film storage and removed the roll of undeveloped film. He placed the film in the small black plastic cylinder. He then proceeded to take off down the street. He might as well stop off at one of those places where they develop the film in one hour, he thought. After all, he could check out the town of Metairie while he was waiting. He spotted a local department store and pulled into the lot. He went in and left the film with the clerk for development. Cogent then went back out and got in his car. He got his map out of the glove box and looked over the town of Metairie. He was hungry and decided to head to a fast-food restaurant for a bite. Cogent headed toward the direction of the main street. There were bound to be some fast food eateries on the main drag. He eyed a hamburger joint and stopped off. Cogent gulped down his food. He was used to grabbing a burger and eating on the run while working on a case. This was a habit to him. Cogent carefully folded the wrapper around the hamburger so that he would not spill ketchup on the seat of his prized jalopy. He wondered how many more years the old car would hold up. Once he got his new job, perhaps he could afford to invest in a newer model. Oh, who was he kidding besides himself? He could virtually afford almost anything he wanted. Cogent had never married and had few friends. His job had been his whole life. Now that was gone. He slid into the driver's seat of the old car and started the ignition. He flipped on the radio again.

“And now we have an update on the news breaking story about the murder of Lydia Secrest. Vaught Patton has been arrested for the murder of the sixty-five-year-old woman...” the radio announcer proclaimed. Cogent turned the volume louder. He couldn't believe that they had arrested the young man whose alibi on the night of the murder had checked out completely. Cogent knew the Sheriff was well aware that the alibi had checked out. Why was the Sheriff's department intent on implicating this boy in the murder? Cogent was certain that the murder had been one in a series of many. And this boy certainly could not be linked in any way to any of the others. Cogent smelled something fishy. He continued to listen as the announcer disclosed the purported facts. Cogent headed back to the store to pick up the processed pictures. Maybe these would help shed some light on the case. His thoughts raced as he recalled the Sheriff warning him about persisting in the gathering of facts. Why was the Sheriff so dead set against this? If Cogent could help with the case, what was the harm? Besides, his work was for free now. Why would the department decline free help? That is unless they were trying to hide something or someone! Cogent felt some sense that the Sheriff was scared that the case would be blown wide open and the boy identified as the murder suspect would be released. He knew the boy was innocent. Cogent couldn't stand for this. It was wrong. He had worked too hard on this case for the facts to be swept under the rug. The announcer went off the air, and the music resumed just as Cogent pulled into the department store parking lot. He went in and picked up the pictures. He took them out to the car and turned on the dome light. Cogent pulled out the set of reading glasses and perched them on his nose. He studied the pictures carefully. The clarity of the pictures was very poor from the disposable camera. He was used to the pictures developed by the film lab at the Sheriff's department. Maybe he could talk Spence into securing the camera from the department for him to use on the sly. He would call Spence back tomorrow. Cogent figured that he had pushed Spence as far as he dared today. Cogent tucked the pictures away in their envelope and put the car into drive. He sped out of the parking lot onto the street. Cogent knew he had better watch his speed. This was a new town for him. He was used to driving any speed he wanted in New Orleans, and all the cops knew him. They wouldn't dare pull Cogent over for speeding. However, that would most likely change since his termination from the department. He slowed down and took in some of the local scenery. He would have to get used to this new town if he were going to work here.

Cogent spotted a woman walking up the steps to the law firm. In an instant he knew it was Madison. What was she doing in this town? He hadn't spoken to her since he got fired. He wondered what she thought about the termination. Cogent quickly stamped on the brakes of the car and shifted into reverse. The woman looked straight at him. It was definitely Madison. She had a look of sheer terror in her eyes. She turned away from him in an attempt to avoid him. She pretended that she hadn't seen him. He pulled the car up to the curb next to the steps and rolled the window down.

“Hop in! We need to talk!” Cogent urged Madison.

“I...I can't right now. I have an appointment, and I'm late!” Madison replied in a nervous fashion.

“An appointment with who? What are you doing in Metairie? Why are you going into that attorney's office? What's going on, Madison?” Cogent was filled with questions.

“Look, Jack, I can't talk right now. O.K.? I'll explain later!” Madison said as she stepped into the office and closed the door behind her. Cogent couldn't figure out what Madison was doing in this town. He recalled bailing her out at the police station when she had been arrested for supposedly tampering with police evidence. “That was probably a setup, too!” he said aloud to himself. Cogent thought that this was a poor attempt by the Sheriff to bust Cogent for something. He figured the Sheriff had cooked it up. Cogent didn't think it was anything serious, but he and Madison never really discussed what had happened. He wondered if this had something to do with it. He drove off and headed back to New Orleans.

ChapterFour

“Mr. Dorn will be right with you, Ms. Southworth,” the receptionist reassured Madison. Madison nervously awaited the meeting with the attorney.

“Thank you,” Madison choked out the words. She could barely speak as she thought about the mess she had gotten herself into. Her knees shook and knocked together as she sat in the white velveteen chair of the waiting area. Her hands were ice cold, and she rubbed them together in an attempt to get the circulation back into them.

“You may go in now, Ms. Southworth. It's the second door to the left,” the receptionist stated as she directed Madison to Mr. Dorn's office.

“Thank you,” Madison said as she meekly arose from the chair. She dropped her purse. As she bent down and picked it up, she could feel her face become flushed.

She managed to regain her composure somewhat and made her way to Mr. Dorn's office. As she approached the doorway of the office, a tall slim gentleman adorned with a blue pinstripe suit stood up from the large cherry desk. He extended his right hand toward her.

“Ms. Southworth, I presume. Nice to make your acquaintance. I am Thomas Dorn,” the attorney stated.

“H...Hello,” Madison said as she nervously extended her hand to shake the attorney's hand.

“You wouldn't happen to be any relation to Bob Southworth, would you?” Thomas Dorn quizzed Madison.

“Ah...yes...he's my father. But how do you know him?” Madison was shocked that he knew her father. The thought of her father finding out about this made her all the more nervous. She couldn't imagine how Mr. Dorn knew her father since he resided out of town.

“It's part of the business. I've tried a few cases with him a time or two. It surprises me that you would enlist the help of my services with your father being an attorney, Ms. Southworth,” Thomas Dorn said with raised brows and an inquisitive look on his face. He thought this woman must have gotten into some trouble that she didn't want her father to know about.

“Well, there's been a mistake and dad being out of town and all. And I need an attorney,” Madison attempted to convince Mr. Dorn.

“So let me get this straight. Your father is out of town, so you came all the way to Metairie and called the first attorney listed in the phone book. Does that about sum it up, Ms. Southworth?” Thomas Dorn knew she was hiding something. He let her know that he was on to her.

“Oh, all right! I made a mistake! I'm in a jam here! You've got to help me, Mr. Dorn! I don't know what to do! Besides, what about attorney-client privilege? You can't tell my dad! He would never get over it!” Madison pleaded with Mr. Dorn.

“Fine. Let's get down to it! What's going on?” Thomas Dorn questioned her.

“You see, I am a pharmacist, and I accidentally filled the wrong prescription. I tried to contact the lady and straighten it out. The next thing I knew, she was dead! So I...” Madison replied, and Mr. Dorn interrupted her abruptly.

“Oh no! You didn't try to correct the mistake after she was dead, by chance, did you?” Thomas Dorn asked her as he shook his head.

“How did you know? I wondered how you got me in for an appointment so fast!” Madison said with an astonished look on her face.

“I heard something about it, let's just say, in my travels,” Thomas Dorn said as he looked at Madison with disbelief that she would have even attempted this.

“I didn't do anything wrong. I was just trying to correct my mistake. That's all,” Madison explained in great detail how she had taken the correct prescription bottle and attempted to switch it with the bottle on the corpse. She also explained how the officer had approached her and saw the bottle of pills lying on the ground.

“Ah, but you did, Ms. Southworth. In the eyes of the law, you did!” Mr. Dorn reminded her of the gravity of the situation.

“Well, can you help me? The hearing is set for September 22nd,” she again pled with him.

“I think so. But I really can't imagine how you managed to get out on bail when the police officer actually saw you picking up the pills. I'll see if I can get a look at your statement. You really should have called me immediately when they arrested you! You never make a statement without your attorney present. I'm sure you already know that, though. What did you have? A public defender?” Thomas Dorn asked her.

“No, I declined legal council at that time. They had a preliminary hearing and oh...I don't know! It all happened so fast! They set bail, and I called a friend to bail me out!” Madison informed him.

“You know we will have to ask for a change of venue if you don't want your father to find out. And if they find you guilty, then he will find out! I really think you should let him know. Hopefully, the judge doesn't tell your father. Your father wouldn't be able to defend you anyway. It would be a conflict of interest,” Mr. Dorn encouraged Madison to be upfront with her father. He knew Robert Southworth would be terribly hurt if he found out through other channels.

“No, I don't want him to know. I don't want anyone in New Orleans to know about this. You've got to get a change of venue and keep it out of the papers!” Madison said with a frenzied tone in her voice.

“I'll see what I can do. But if someone sees it on the docket and tips your father off, there's not a lot I can do. Well, we'll try to avoid that if we can. I have a few friends over there. I'll be in touch, Ms. Southworth. Perhaps you should stick close to New Orleans, though. The police might wonder what's going on if they see you heading out of town,” Thomas Dorn warned Madison.

Madison was shaken up. She had tried to kid herself that she hadn't done anything wrong. Mr. Dorn's words kept playing over and over in her head. 'Ah, but you did! In the eyes of the law, you did!' He had warned her. She was terrified. Madison knew Mr. Dorn was right. How much longer could she keep this from her father and from her boss? She nearly fell down the steps as she headed to where her car was parked. His hands were literally shaking now. She would call Cogent when she got home. He had lent her a lot of money for bail. Madison owed Cogent a total of twenty-five thousand dollars. How would she ever pay it back? Madison was still paying for her school loans. Madison felt that the least she could do was to tell Cogent the truth. She figured he'd find out anyhow. Madison also felt solely responsible for Cogent losing his job. The job that, she knew, had meant the world to Cogent. How could she have done this to him? Madison felt a sinking feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. Her thoughts nauseated her.

Madison managed to put the car in drive and head home. She dwelled on what Mr. Dorn had said all the way home. As she pulled into a lot of her apartment complex, she was relieved to have made it home. She did not even recall making the trip. Madison ran into her apartment and immediately dialed Cogent's number. The phone rang four times. There was no answer. She didn't want to leave another message. She would try again later. Madison twitched as her phone suddenly rang.

“Hello!” she grabbed the phone and quickly answered in a panicked voice.

“Hi, honey. How ya' doing? Your brother is stopping over for dinner. Why don't you join us?” Mrs. Southworth asked her daughter in an inviting tone.

“Oh. Hi, Mom. I really can't tonight. It's been a long day, and I'm spent. I'll take a raincheck,” Madison tried to sound upbeat as she refused her mother's invitation.

“No, Madison. I insist. We haven't eaten together as a family for awhile, and your father wants to see you. Dinner will be ready at 6:30 p.m. C'mon over!” Her mother abruptly hung up, not giving Madison the opportunity for further declination.

Madison threw her white lab coat down on the sofa and headed toward the bathroom. She knew she looked a mess. She picked up the blusher and attempted to cover up her ashen face. She combed the long black locks out of her face. She looked down at the sink full of black hair. The stress was getting to her, and her hair was falling out by the handful. She managed to make herself up in a presentable manner and headed out the door again.

Madison arrived promptly at her parent's home. Her mother grabbed her and hugged her. Madison was pale and gaunt. Her mother detected that something was wrong.

“Honey, are you eating? You look so thin. Is this new job getting to you?” her mother asked with concern.

“No, I'm fine, Mom. Really!” Madison tried to put on a smile as she reassured her mother.

“Hey, sis! You look awful! Rough day or what?” her brother said to Madison as he grabbed her from behind. The handsome young lawyer was unequivocally honest with his sister. He always had been ever since they were kids.