Chasing Shadows

by Jason Richards

  CHAPTER 12

  JESSICA CANCELED LUNCH to attend a new client meeting. We decided on dinner at Legal Sea Foods on State Street. The Boston Long-Wharf location offered ocean-side dining near the New England Aquarium. It was also close to Jessica's office in the Financial District.

  “Spoken to any other old girlfriends lately?” Jessica said as she picked up her glass of White Zinfandel. I was having a Sam Adams Boston Lager.

  “No, but Rachel did introduce me to a lovely guidance counselor at Hancock Academy.”

  “Do tell.”

  “Well, Mrs. Grace Moore is a plain woman with no sense of humor. She may even be an early model AI production.”

  “So not your type?,” Jessica teased.

  “I wasn’t aware I had a type,” I said.

  “Your type is beautiful, intelligent, and sophisticated.”

  “If you find a woman matching that description, let me know.”

  Jessica made her funny-face at me. Even being silly, Jess was stunning. She wore her usual office attire pants suit. She was going with one of her navy blue outfits with a white blouse. I stuck with my jeans and polo knit shirt, but threw on a blue blazer to jazz up my outfit.

  “The perfect picture of sophistication,” I said as I raised my glass of beer.

  “You forgot beautiful and intelligent,” she said.

  “Goes without saying,” I said.

  I watched out the window as a sailboat passed by in the distance.

  “Was Grace Moore helpful?” Jessica said.

  “Only in that I learned Aaron Hurley is now attending Boston College on a football scholarship.”

  “That's something,” Jess said. “But you would have found that out easily enough without her.”

  “Being a crack investigator, that is true,” I said. “I did speak with a security guard and with Carla and Stewart. Those conversations were more helpful.”

  Our waiter came and took our appetizer order. We hadn't quite decided on our main courses. I started with a bowl of New England Clam Chowder and Steamers with drawn butter.

  “Two starters?” Jessica said.

  “I skipped lunch,” I said.

  Jessica had a cup of Lobster Bisque. I sampled it. Next time maybe I'd have three starters.

  We placed our order for the main course. I went with Legal's Signature Crab Cake Combo. Jessica opted for Anna's Baked Boston Cod.

  The restaurant had an upscale casual feel with contemporary wood and leather chairs, matching wall panels, silver accent lighting, and a light gray patterned carpet. It all tied together and made me feel like I was on a cruise ship.

  “Tell me what else you learned at Hancock Academy,” Jessica said after the waiter left our table.

  “That I'm glad I didn't go to a fancy prep school.”

  “Besides that?”

  “Well, Rick, the security guard, suggested Aaron was a bit of a bad boy while a student at Hancock, and that all the girls seemed to go for him. In fact, he seemed to have casually dated a number of girls at the school.”

  “There can be a strange allure with a boy who seems a little dangerous,” Jessica said.

  “I assume that is part of my appeal?” I said.

  “That's a little different,” Jessica said. “You are dangerous to bad people who are doing bad things. Aaron is dangerous because he is a bad influence.”

  “Agreed,” I said. “Rick also helped me identify Carla and Stewart. Their full names are Carla Travis and Stewart Vincent. Both come from stinking rich families and they are at Hancock because their families built the library and gymnasium.”

  “Did you have a chance to speak with them?”

  “Yes. They confirmed Aaron's rep as a bad boy. I also learned Aaron is not so keen on a relationship with Tina.”

  “On that alone,” Jessica said, “this doesn't end well for Tina.”

  “Certainly not in the boyfriend department,” I said. “Apparently Aaron still likes to keep all his options open and sample from a large menu.”

  “Poor Tina,” Jessica said.

  I nodded. The waiter came by with another glass of wine for Jessica and another Sam Adams for me.

  “It gets worse,” I said. “Not that it is a real surprise, but the kids are into underage drinking and smoking pot. Carla and Stewart confirmed this often takes place at the Snake Pit.”

  Jessica nodded her agreement that none of this was a real surprise. She did this while elegantly sipping her wine.

  “My fear is when it all comes crashing down, and it will, that Tina will be hurt more than if I get her out now.”

  “And maybe even set the others straight?” Jessica said. She understood me well.

  “If I can,” I said.

  “So what's next?” Jessica said.

  “I need some evidence I can offer to Bonnie so we can present our best case to Tina.”

  “Like catching Aaron with another girl?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “It may not be enough,” Jessica said. “Aaron may have too much of a hold over Tina.”

  “Right now,” I said, “it's the best play I have.”

  Our dinner came and we ate. We shifted our conversation to more pleasant topics that didn't involve any cases we were working on. Eventually, we got around to discussing plans for a vacation to somewhere tropical. Life with Jessica was good. Very good. It was in stark contrast to Tina Ross and Aaron Hurley.

  CHAPTER 13

  I SAT IN MY CAR DRINKING coffee as I watched Aaron Hurley's apartment. He lived in an off-campus building in Chestnut Hill, not far from Boston College. The building was considerably upscale compared to typical student housing. Even with a football scholarship, he wouldn't be in that nice a building if he didn't come from money.

  I took in the fresh fall air through my open window on what was a cool and clear September evening. A car drove by with its windows down and rap music filled the street momentarily. I would have expected Classical in Chestnut Hill. The car turned the corner and the music faded into the distance.

  The radio in my car was tuned to the Patriots playing on Monday Night Football. It was an early season game, but they were already showing signs of dominating the AFC East again this season. Despite my enjoyment of Pats football, my thoughts were mostly with the Red Sox. They had achieved a franchise record for regular season wins and were playing well heading into the playoffs.

  My thoughts of the Red Sox possibly winning another World Series were interrupted by a Tom Brady touchdown pass to Gronk. Can Aaron Hurley stay out of enough trouble to actually become the next Rob Gronkowski? It wasn't for me to determine. But I would still try to help where I could.

  That help would need to wait until after I gave Bonnie the best chance of getting Tina back to her old life. Evidence showing Aaron was not committed to Tina still seemed the only real course of action. Tina would feel hurt and betrayed by someone she allowed herself to believe genuinely cared for her. It seemed like tough love, but the hurt would fail in comparison to getting deeper into a life at places like the Snake Pit. Nothing good could come of that.

  Aaron and Tina came out of the apartment building and got into a black Audi R8 Coupe. I whistled. Aaron's car ran him somewhere between $190,000 to $197,000, depending on the options. I bet it was fully loaded at the highest price-point. They sped away from the curb. I pulled out and followed at a safe distance.

  If you weren't used to being followed, you were not likely to be looking for a tail. It made my job easier. But I liked to keep my tailing skills in tip-top shape, so I treated Aaron like he would be expecting to be followed.

  They stopped at a burger joint and went inside. I pulled over across the street with a clear view of the front of the restaurant. It looked like Carla and Stewart were already sitting in a booth along the front bank of windows. I pulled out my camera and looked through the zoom lens. My smartphone probably took as good a picture, but it was hard to beat a good zoom lens on a camera for surveillance.


  I confirmed it was Carla and Stewart. Aaron and Tina sat in the booth with them. They stayed for about an hour as they ate and talked. So far the evening looked like typical teenagers out on a double-date. The Patriots were up by three touchdowns at halftime.

  The four teens exited the burger place. Tina initiated a kiss with Aaron, which he reluctantly participated in. It even felt awkward from my car across the street. Aaron pulled away after a few seconds, turned up the street and got in his car alone. Tina left with Carla and Stewart in a BMW SUV. My first car leaked oil and was held together with Bondo and duct tape.

  I followed Aaron along Beacon Street to Boston College's Alumni Stadium where the BC Eagles football team played their home games. Aaron got out and met another college kid. Tall and wiry. He handed Aaron a wad of cash. I took a picture of the exchange.

  This was repeated several more times at various locations around Boston College. One kid didn't pay. Words were exchanged and then Aaron threw the kid against a wall and punched him a few times in the gut and then the face. The kid would be sore and have a real shiner around his left eye, but it was over faster than I could have gotten out of the car and reached them. I also felt non-interference was best unless it looked like things were going to get out of hand and Aaron would really hurt the other guy.

  Aaron got in his car and drove away. I followed. The kid was bending over clutching his stomach and catching his breath. Aaron had given him a warning. And it was clear to me that Aaron was working as a goon collecting money. I didn't see any drugs in exchange for the cash, so Aaron was probably working for a bookie or loan shark.

  As I followed Aaron past the Chestnut Hill Reservoir and onto Commonwealth Avenue, I thought about how none of this made any sense. Aaron Hurley came from money. He also had a football scholarship to Boston College. Why did he need to be working as some sort of enforcer collecting money on shady bets or loans?

  I hypothesized Aaron could be in deep and working off his own debt. Or he was caught up for some other reason. Either way, he was involved in illegal activity with shadowy figures. Aaron probably had no idea how much his promising future was in jeopardy. The lower level crime tended to escalate to bigger and more dangerous crimes.

  I followed Aaron onto the Massachusetts Turnpike toward Boston. The Pats game was well into the third quarter and they now had a four touchdown lead. We wound our way through Boston's streets. It was obvious when we entered a section of the city where most Bostonians never went. The occasional bar or corner market occupied sections of mostly abandoned buildings. At least as far as I could tell from the few street lights still shedding light on the potholed streets.

  Aaron stopped in front of the Snake Pit. He got out of his car and leaned against the club's side wall. The Snake Pit was in stark contrast to the rest of the neighborhood as it teamed with activity. But the Snake Pit was not about to lead an urban revival for the neighborhood.

  A very large man at the front door to the club paid no attention to Aaron. No one bothered his very expensive sports car. This led me to believe that Aaron was known in the neighborhood.

  He was a big kid and tough enough to play Division IA football, and beat on college kids who owed money, but he wasn't tough enough to strike fear in the likes of those who frequented the Snake Pit. He certainly was no match for the giant guy, probably the club's bouncer, who stood outside the front door. But whoever Aaron worked for was feared. At least enough that Aaron was not bothered.

  A side door, probably used by club employees, opened. A guy around Aaron's age stepped outside and let the door close behind him. He was as tall as Aaron, but lacked Aaron's bulk. Aaron pushed off the wall and stepped in front of the guy. They spoke. Their exchange was different from the others. Aaron and this guy appeared to have a personal connection. Perhaps they were even friends. I took some pictures.

  The conversation grew heated, and there was pushing and shoving as the guy tried to walk away. Aaron threw the guy up against the wall and held him there. But he didn't hit him. Aaron continued to speak. He looked frustrated with the guy.

  After a few minutes more like that, Aaron let the guy go. The guy straightened his shirt and walked away. Aaron watched him. I watched Aaron. The conversation may or may not have had anything to do with Aaron's part-time job as a junior thug. But I made a mental note to speak with the guy.

  Aaron got back in the R8 and headed to Brookline. There he met up with an attractive young lady with long legs and full lips. They embraced and kissed. Aaron's reaction was the exact opposite of his reluctant and short-lived kiss with Tina earlier. I snapped several pictures, making sure Aaron could be easily identified by the images.

  I had what I needed for the Ross case, but I decided to stick with following Aaron for the rest of the evening. I thought he might lead me to his boss. He didn't. Despite the fact I still had no idea exactly what, or whom, Aaron was collecting money for, I had some new information about him. And some information is better than none.

  CHAPTER 14

  JAX AND MIKEY

  “YOU THINK THE KID HAS it in him?” Jax asked Mikey.

  “We'll find out soon enough,” Mikey said.

  They were sitting in their car across from the Snake Pit. The brothers followed Aaron Hurley from Chestnut Hill to the club in the neighborhood most of Boston gave up on long ago. Aaron had easily handled shaking down some Boston College students who owed their boss. He was in his element on the Chestnut Hill campus. Killing Brad was another matter.

  “I don't think he has the stones,” Jax said.

  Mikey shrugged and drank some coffee as they watched Aaron leaning against a wall outside the Snake Pit.

  “He looks nervous,” Jax said. “Kinda jittery.”

  “Thinking about offing his old chum.”

  “He's going to let him off,” Jax said.

  “You may be right,” Mikey said.

  “Then we'll have to do the job.” Jax said with hopeful expectation.

  “No loose ends,” Mikey said.

  Aaron shifted from one foot to the other. He looked around. The side street was empty. Anyone with half a brain stayed off the street. If you had just a little more sense, you stayed out of the neighborhood altogether.

  “What will we tell Jocko if the kid can't go through with it?” Jax said.

  “That the kid couldn't go through with it,” Mikey said.

  “Jocko will kill him,” Jax said.

  “Probably,” Mikey said.

  “Think he'll have us do it?”

  Mikey nodded.

  “Me, too,” Jax said.

  They were silent in the darkness of the car. Mikey drank more coffee.

  “I might not enjoy it,” Jax said after a few minutes.

  Mikey turned his head and looked at his brother. “Instincts will kick in,” he said.

  Jax nodded.

  Brad Whitcomb exited the Snake Pit from the side employee door. Aaron pushed away from the wall and approached him. Jax and Mikey watched as the two spoke. There was yelling and some pushing and shoving. As Brad turned to walk away, Aaron grabbed his arm and spun him back around. Aaron said something and then let Brad go.

  Jax and Mikey watched Brad walk down the street and get in his car. Aaron turned and walked in the other direction and disappeared into the dark of the evening.

  Mikey started the engine and they pulled out behind Brad's car.

  CHAPTER 15

  BRAD LIVED IN A RUNDOWN studio apartment not far into a block where redevelopment stalled with the Great Recession in 2008. When the economy improved, it seems everyone forgot the grand plans they had for this little corner of Beantown and looked to other projects.

  It suited Brad just fine. He had been forced out of neighborhoods with increasing rents before. He liked his place. Rent was cheap. No one bothered him. He liked to be left alone.

  Now he had to get out of town. Jocko Scarpelli was looking for him. At first he didn’t believe Aaron was working for Jocko. He found it harder t
o believe that Aaron had been sent to kill him.

  But Aaron told him that Jax and Mikey would do the job if Aaron couldn’t convince them he went through with it. The best thing was for Brad to leave Boston. Go as far away as possible. Aaron would tell Jax and Mikey that he used his dad’s boat to dump Brad’s body in the ocean.

  Brad was throwing some belongings in a backpack when he heard a knock at the door. Through the peephole he could see Mikey standing on the other side. Brad had no possible exit out the back. There would be no escaping Jax and Mikey.

  He waited quietly. Perhaps they will think he is not home and leave.

  “Open the door, Brad,” he heard Mikey call out from the other side of the door. “We know you're home. We followed you here.”

  Brad thought for a moment. Mikey spoke again. “It will go easier on you if you open the door,” he said. “Don't listen to what Hurley told you. We worked it all out. Be smart and take the deal we have to offer.”

  Okay, Brad thought. Things will be okay. Just do what they say.

  What other option did he have? None. He swallowed hard and opened the door.

  “You going to invite us in?” Mikey said.

  Before Brad had a chance to speak, Jax and Mikey pushed their way past him into the tiny studio apartment.

  “You live alone?” Jax said as he looked around.

  “Yeah,” Brad said. “Rent is cheap.”

  “Looks like it would be,” Mikey replied.

  “What can I do for you gentlemen?”

  “Gentlemen?” Mikey said. “You hear that, Jax?”

  “Yeah, Mikey. Pretty funny.”

  Jax and Mikey howled with laughter. Brad was reconsidering his attempt to reason with the two thugs.

  “We're not gentlemen,” Mikey said. “Except with ladies. Women deserve our respect.”

  Brad stood in stunned silence. He did not want to piss these two off by saying the wrong thing.