An excerpt from A World Alone

“Damn, he’s beat up. Good thing we know who he was. You sure can’t tell from his face,” Lemoine said as she homed in on the body. His clothing and body had been torn and ripped as he barreled forward with logs and rocks until coming ashore in this shallow, swampy area where the cypress knees captured silt, tree limbs, and other debris. The rocks had been most damaging to the exposed skin of his hands, face, and head. Missing hair and skin from much of his head, Mike’s skull had been cracked, and one eye was punctured. The old quilt, which had pulled him into the river, had provided little protection for his torso as it unfolded and twisted around him. His body was still seeping blood from bruises and gashes on his arms and torso, and his shirt was almost shredded.

“Lemoine, you got enough?” asked Doucet.

“Just about. Sheriff, do we need to do anything else before loading him up?” she asked, looking at the Sheriff with uncertainty.

“Mais, I guess so. Record everything, even moving the body.” The Sheriff wanted to be clear that the Louisiana State Police would find nothing out of the ordinary.

“Hand me that basket,” Doucet said, and looking at his partner, motioned to Guidry to give him a hand moving the body.

“Not as light as he looks,” Guidry said under his breath.  

“Everyting’s full of water. Sheriff, can we remove the boots?” Doucet asked.

“Naw, everything stays as is. The coroner will have to do that. Need another hand?” The sheriff looked around and barked orders, “Saucier, Dupont, grab the basket from here. De rest of you get outta de way, you. No way, we’ll get a gurney through dis. Saucier, y’all pack him to the side-by-side. Doucet and Guidry, wrap up the scene. Lemoine, keep recording until everyting’s done. Someone video from here until we get him to the coroner’s car. Y’all don’t forget that quilt, now, ya hear.”  

As the Sheriff walked away, Doucet called to the men, “Hey, Dupont, drive that side-by-side back here. We gonna be tired after tromping around this hole.”

“Sure,” Dupont responded, his face giving away his pride of inclusion in the investigation. Doucet and Guidry had become mentors, and he aspired to become a detective. Being around the men as they worked a scene taught him valuable lessons that would pay off later, he hoped.

Doucet squatted down low without moving his feet and began looking for anything that might have fallen off the body or washed up with it. Guidry joined him, and they “talked out” the scene as Deputy Lemoine filmed.