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“Give them to us as you get them,” Remy said. “We’ll schedule interviews with them immediately.”

“On it,” Swede said. “Stay online. This might go faster than you think.”

Jacques’s lips quirked. He wished he had half the technical skills Swede had in his little finger.

“First up,” Swede said less than a minute later, “Brian Tobin, currently stationed in Fort Carson, Colorado, with his personal phone and duty phone number. Next is Lewis Thacker with his info.”

“You take Thacker,” Remy said to Jacques. “I’ll contact Tobin.”

Swede listed the remaining names and their information, then jumped in to help contact them.

They set up interview times for later that day with some and left messages with others, taking into account overseas assignments and time zones.

“When we interview these men, we need to remember they could potentially be the perpetrator,” Swede said. “We’ll want to ask about their movements, what transportation they used, who their companions were, and if any had later departures from the barracks.”

Remy nodded. “Don’t assume the men are just witnesses or have identical memories. We want to compare individual accounts with the people they list as companions. We need to look into anything that deviates from one account to another.”

“The first interview isn’t until four o’clock this afternoon,” Remy said. “We’ll reconvene fifteen minutes before that to get our questions straight.”

Jacques checked his watch. “Pruitt was supposed to be out all day with Mitch Marceau. I’m going to head to the marina and see if I can catch him coming in.”

Swede signed off, and Remy headed home for a very late lunch.

Jacques climbed into his SUV and resisted the urge to drive over to the Crawdad Hole to check on Danny. She’d specifically said she didn’t want protection. The best he could do for her at this point was to investigate all possible suspects and find the one who’d assaulted her.

He’d promised her that he’d speak with Pruitt.

A sleek black bass boat was pulling up to the dock as Jacques parked his SUV and got out. He recognized the boat’s two occupants as Mitch Marceau and Dale Pruitt. Perfect timing.

He hurried down to the dock in time for Mitch to throw him a line. After securing the line, he held out his hand for the fishing poles, tackle boxes and coolers, lining them up safely on the wooden planks.

Dale Pruit held up a stringer of fish, a grin spread across his face. “Nothing better than a day on the bayou with Mr. Marceau,” he said.

“After you clean and fillet them, you can take them up to the Crawdad Hole or Mimi’s Diner, and they’ll cook them however you like.” Mitch stepped out of the boat and took the stringer. “Were you looking for me?”

“Actually, I was hoping to speak with Mr. Pruitt.” Jacques held out a hand to Pruitt and helped him onto the dock. “I’m Jacques Jardin with the Bayou Brotherhood Protectors.”

“Nice to meet you,” Pruitt said. “I’ve heard of the Brotherhood Protectors; they’re a good group from what I hear. They’re the ones who sponsored the event yesterday. I met Hank Patterson and his wife, Sadie McClain. Nice people. How can I help you?”

“I was hoping to ask you a few questions, if you have a few minutes.”

“Sure,” Pruitt said. “Just as soon as we carry all this stuff up to the marina.”

“I’ve got this, if you’ll take your catch over to the cleaning station. You’ll want to get started.” Mitch handed the stringer of fish to Pruitt, tucked a tackle box under each arm, and bent to pick up the cooler in one hand and the fishing poles in the other.

Pruitt tipped his head toward the stainless-steel cleaning station at the end of the dock. “If you don’t mind asking your questions while I clean my fish, you can do it now.”

“That works for me.” Jacques fell in step with the older man carrying the string of fish and his tackle box. “I’m helping a client with an incident that happened four years ago near Fort Benning, Georgia, involving a graduating class from the Ranger School. On the night in question, you were the NCO on duty at the barracks.”

Pruitt set the tackle box on the table, took out a fillet knife, unhooked one of the fish from the stringer, laid it on the table, hooked the chain on a nail and dropped the rest of the fish on the stringer into the water. “That’s a pretty broad swath of time. Could you narrow it down a bit? Which graduating class?”

Jacques gave him the class number and the date that Swede had found through his online research.

Pruitt shook his head. “Four years is a long time. My memory isn’t what it used to be. Any names of the Rangers from that class? I might have a better chance of remembering, though it’s not likely. We had a lot of students come through during my time there.”

Jacques slowly read the list of names in the text message Danny had sent, watching the retired Sergeant Major for any reaction.

When he reached Lewis Thacker, the older man’s brow furrowed. “That name rings a bell. I usually don’t remember all the students’ names. I mostly remember only those who really stand out, like the top of the class or the troublemakers. I think Thacker might have gotten into some trouble.”