Death Comes to Main Street (The Paul Monroe Mysteries Book 3)

by Felice Stevens

  “Me too. And I’m glad you made your peace.”

  “You give me peace. Ever since we got together, I’m not angry anymore. And you were right.”

  The rest of the world might see Paul as a tough, hardened detective, but Cliff knew better. He had initially despaired, unsure if Paul could make the commitment not only to a relationship, but to himself. Yet Paul had surprised them all and proved his courage not only in the field every day, but in owning himself and who he was.

  Cliff gazed at Paul’s strong, capable hands resting on the comforter, and a throb of desire hit him again. “I like hearing that. Tell me how?”

  “Harley. Talking about him freed up all this anger I had against myself for losing the chance to be brothers and best friends. The stories you told me about your friendship and how he still loved me no matter that I thought we weren’t close…it’s taught me to live in the moment and never be afraid to be me.”

  Overwhelmed by Paul’s confession, Cliff nodded and whispered, “I’ll be right back.” He brushed his teeth and returned to their bedroom, where Paul had already turned out the lights. Once under the covers, Paul slipped both arms around him and held him close, spooning his body the length of Cliff’s.

  “I’ll never let anything happen to you. Not if I can help it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The days were beginning to meld together, with them spending time doing background checks, waiting for forensic reports, and typing report after report. None of which definitively revealed if the crimes were connected or even who all the players were, which left Paul frustrated and angry that they were missing something in plain sight.

  “Here we are again.” Paul set his coffee on the desk, next to Rob’s.

  “It’s like we never left, right?”

  Paul gave Rob the once-over. “Yeah, I think I’ve seen that tie one too many times.”

  Rob flipped up the end and waved it. “Listen. This was my last Father’s Day present. If you think I’m stupid enough not to wear this every chance I get, you’re nuts.” He popped a doughnut hole into his mouth. “Wins me brownie points with Annabel, if you know what I mean.” He waggled his brows.

  “Moving right along.” Paul pressed his lips together and rolled his eyes. “Since the guy who went off on Joshua in the jewelry store matches Curtis Wellington’s description”—Paul brought up the photos he’d taken of the men in Travis’s backyard—“we can go downtown and show him the picture, then head over to the other stores. I’ll bet we’ll discover the other members of their charming little group were the ones involved with the burglaries at Today’s Man and Game On.”

  “Which still proves nothing.”

  “True,” Paul said, “but at least we’ll know what to look for when we review the footage again. I’m sure we’ll find something soon to crack their alibis.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. And even if you’re not, you’ll keep at it until we do.”

  “Got that right. I plan to hound everyone involved to make sure this gets to the top of their lists. I won’t be able to rest until whoever caused Shelby’s death is arrested.” Paul tipped his notepad to Rob. “Let’s show the pictures of this group to Joshua, Donald, and Lou.” He saved and clicked out of the files. “Come on.”

  “Right behind you, Paulie.”

  Paul drove to the shopping district and slid into a parking spot several stores from Twenty-Four Karat. On their way to the jewelry store, Paul nudged Rob. “Look who’s hanging out in the square, up to no good, I can almost guarantee.”

  Hands jammed into the pockets of a black hoodie, Curtis Wellington slouched on a bench, glaring at passersby, with several other men Paul didn’t recognize. He had a paper bag Paul was almost certain held a beer, which was against Thornwood Park’s policy of no public drinking. A cloud of smoke drifted over his head.

  “You think so? Maybe he’s planning a run for City Council.”

  Rob’s eyes brimmed with amusement, and Paul shook his head in disgust. “All that sugar has gone to your head. Let’s go.”

  They entered the jewelry store, and Paul noticed several changes since their last visit.

  “Welcome to Twenty-Four Karat, gentlemen.”

  A sharp-eyed man dressed in a dark sports jacket greeted them, and Paul would lay bets he was a private security guard. Additionally, the damaged display case had been replaced. Joshua, who had finished with a customer, waved at them from across the store.

  “Paul.”

  They crossed the floor, and Joshua locked the case and came out from behind the counter to greet them.

  “You remember my partner, Rob Gormley?” The two shook hands.

  “Yes, of course. Good morning, Detective.”

  “Rob, please.”

  “Can we talk for a moment? We have something we’d like to show you.” Paul hoped by the time they left the store, they’d begin to have the outline of this jigsaw puzzle of a case.

  “Sure. Let’s go to the back.” They followed him, and Paul waved to the elder Rothstein, who was holding a conversation with a customer examining a sparkling necklace. Joshua led them into the same office they’d sat in with his father.

  After they’d all been seated, Joshua spread his hands out. “So. What’s up?”

  Paul took out his phone and pulled up the photos he’d taken the night before of Wellie. “Do you recognize this guy?” He handed the phone to Joshua, who frowned as he studied the screen.

  “Yeah. I sure as hell do. That’s the asshole who was here.” Joshua’s lips tightened, his expression growing grim. “I’ll never forget him.”

  “Is it possible you saw him somewhere else?”

  Joshua’s eyes narrowed. “N-no. I would’ve remembered him.”

  Disappointed, Paul continued to press. “Could he have been in the club the night of the fire?” He waited anxiously for Joshua’s answer.

  “Not that I recall. I mean, I didn’t see everyone in the club, but he would’ve stood out, for sure.”

  There went that theory.

  “Did anything come back to you about that night? I have other pictures after those of people I’d like you to look at. Scroll down and see if anyone looks familiar.”

  But again, Paul was thwarted as Joshua couldn’t identify any of the men who’d been gathered in Travis’s backyard as being at the club the night of the fire.

  “It was so dark and smoky, and everyone was yelling. Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful,” Joshua said as he walked them out. “Do you think they’re involved?”

  “We’re looking into all the angles.” Rob tucked away his notepad. “But it was good you could identify Wellington as the person who was here.”

  “I wish I could’ve nailed one of those assholes. If they had anything to do with the fire…”

  “They’ll pay for it. Trust me.” Paul gave Joshua’s shoulder a pat, and they left the store.

  “Should we be friendly and say hello?” Paul slid his sunglasses over his eyes.

  Rob chuckled. “Kraft did say he wanted us to engage more with the public. Why not?”

  “Why not indeed?”

  They strolled across the street to the square, a green area in the center of Main Street, and approached Wellington. As they drew closer, Paul noticed him shift the paper bag at his side, behind him.

  “Hello, Curtis. How’s everything today?” Paul and Rob stood in front of the three men on the bench. Bear and Travis weren’t there, and Paul wondered what they were doing.

  “Is there a problem?” Wellie blew a plume of smoke up to their faces, and Paul’s anger bubbled to the surface as he fanned the vapors away from his eyes.

  “These benches are for people to use temporarily, not take up residence all day. We wanted to make sure you were aware there’s a no loitering policy.”

  “Of course, Detectives. I don’t break rules.”

  “Where’re your other friends?”

  “Bear and Travis?” Wellie belched and wiped his mouth. “We’re planni
ng a little picnic, and they’re getting the stuff.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid, now.”

  Wellie snickered. “Oh, never, Detectives. We’re law-abiding citizens.”

  Paul forced a strained smile. “I’m sure you are.”

  He and Rob strode away. “Bastard’s way too cocky. I just fucking know they all have something to do with this—if not the fire, then the break-ins.”

  “And if they do, we’ll haul their assess to jail and make sure they serve their fucking time.” Rob’s voice hitched. “Give me a sec.”

  A little surprised by Rob’s emotional outburst, Paul waited at his side.

  “I’ve been thinking about the fire and how it could’ve been Cliff inside, or you. And I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d gotten a call that you’d been hurt or…or worse.” Normally good-natured and placid, Rob’s eyes spit fire. “If I discover those bastards are involved, they better hope jail is the worst thing that happens to them.”

  Touched by Rob’s words, Paul felt an unaccustomed prickling behind his eyes. “Thanks,” he whispered, his voice coming out ragged.

  They entered Today’s Man, and by that time, both he and Rob had regained their composure. Donald raised silver brows and left his customer at the fitting room.

  “Detectives, hello. How can I help you?”

  As Paul had done with Joshua, he showed the photos of the group to Donald, who picked out Bear as the man he’d spoken to.

  They thanked him and walked outside into the bright sunlight. Paul squinted across the street and noted Wellie had departed.

  Rob leaned against the lamppost. “Next move? What do you think?”

  “Back to Moonshine Liquors to show Dorothy the photos, see if that crew’s been back, and if she’s picked up anything else.”

  Twenty minutes later, they pushed open the door to the liquor store and came face-to-face with Mr. Hammond wielding his shotgun at a man Paul recognized as Bear. Not surprisingly, Dorothy held a fire extinguisher in her hands. A broken bottle of liquor lay between them. Dorothy’s face brightened when she saw him and Rob in the doorway.

  “Oh, you must have ESP. Detectives, please come in and arrest this…this person.” She glared at Bear.

  He exchanged a glance with Rob. “What happened?”

  “This hooligan tried to steal a bottle of whiskey. I caught him”—she pointed at Bear—“slipping the bottle inside his pants. He was with one of his friends, who ran away when I caught them. He started pushing and threatening me. Imagine putting your hands on a woman. Who raised him? That’s when Mr. Hammond stepped in.”

  Mr. Hammond brandished the shotgun. “He’s lucky you fellows walked in when you did. Otherwise…” Muttering to himself, Hammond shuffled back to the front of the store, and Paul breathed a sigh of relief that the shotgun was out of their faces.

  Indignation that this punk could’ve hurt Dorothy fired Paul up. “You abused an elderly lady?” He and Rob stalked inside, cuffs in hand. “That’s the lowest of the low. But we shouldn’t expect anything more from you, should we?” His questions bounced off Bear, who remained mute.

  With great satisfaction, Paul pulled Bear’s arms behind him to snap the cuffs on, ignoring his sudden howls of police brutality and how his wrists hurt. He called for a patrol car to come pick him up.

  “Not so tough now, are you, big shot?”

  “I didn’t do nothing. She’s crazy and blind. I don’t need to steal nothing. I got money,” Bear shouted.

  “Do you now?” Paul asked. “From where?”

  Bear said nothing and just glared at him.

  Unwilling to jeopardize the arrest, Paul refrained from pushing Bear to talk. They heard sirens in the distance, so he and Rob walked the man outside and watched the police car drive through the parking lot and pull up front.

  “Officer Ortega, Officer Rangel,” Paul and Rob greeted them while holding on to the protesting man.

  “Hey, Detectives. What do we have here?”

  “We have a real man, Officers. Someone who likes pushing little old ladies around.”

  “Is that so? Tough guy like you likes hurting little old ladies? Like my mama? My mama lives with me and my wife, and she’s very special to us. Like Rangel’s mama is to him.” Ortega’s gaze pinned Bear, who shifted under his unblinking stare. “It ain’t nice to push around little old ladies.”

  Rangel opened the door to the back seat. “Get inside, hotshot.” None too gently, Rangel pushed Bear’s head down and thrust him into the patrol car. Ortega waited by him and Rob.

  “We’re going to finish up asking questions here and meet you at the station. He hasn’t been Mirandized yet.”

  “Okay.” Ortega grimaced. “You know, I might be mistaken, but something looks familiar about him. Not sure, but…”

  His senses quickening, Paul took Ortega by the arm, and along with Rob, led him away from the patrol car. “Tell us.”

  Ortega tipped his cap up as he squinted in thought. “My brother owns a corner supermarket in East Thornwood Park. He said these guys come inside, buy their beer, and talk shit to him. He don’t say anything ’cause he don’t want trouble, but I know he’d like to beat the crap outta them. Last month I helped him out a coupla times on my day off, and I think I remember him.” He gestured to the car. “I dunno, but it coulda been him or someone else with that tat.” He shrugged. “Sorry, guys. I wasn’t really paying attention.”

  “Don’t worry, but if you could let your brother know, or if you’re there and you see or hear anything, call us.” He and Rob gave their cards to Ortega.

  “Will do. I better get that jerk in for processing.”

  “Thanks, Ronni.”

  “See you at the station.”

  He and Rob watched the patrol car pull away, and then they reentered the store, where Dorothy was sweeping up the broken glass.

  “Dorothy, can we talk to you a moment?”

  “Just a second.”

  Paul waited impatiently while she finished cleaning the mess and put the broom away.

  “Jesus, I could have gone home, had lunch, and come back,” Rob muttered. Paul had to agree but kept his mouth shut.

  Finally, Dorothy returned. “I’m ready.”

  “Can you tell us who the other man was with Bear today? Did you recognize him?” Paul had his notebook out.

  “Oh, yes. It was the one they call Trav. The bully with the big mouth.”

  He exchanged glances with Rob. “I see.” He paused. “You didn’t hear anything else they might’ve talked about, did you?”

  She screwed up her face. “No…I don’t…well, they did say something about a meeting tonight.” She pursed her pink lips. “Probably why they were stealing my liquor. Throw the book at them, Detectives. If you need me to come in and testify, I’d be happy to do so.”

  Her eager voice and bright eyes made him smile. “Dorothy, I’ll have a patrol car sent for you if that becomes necessary. How’s that?”

  “Deal.”

  “Now, we’d like to ask you if you can identify anyone in these pictures.” He showed her his phone and waited while she put her glasses on. Her head bobbed up and down.

  “Oh, yes. There’s the one you arrested today, and that big one who ran away—Trav. He’s the one who said he’d be coming into money. Also that tall, skinny one—Wellie.” Her lips pursed. “He’s nasty.”

  Finally, a connection, slight as it might be, but one they could build on.

  “You’ve been wonderful. Thank you. We’ll be in touch if necessary.”

  In the car on their way back to the station, Rob analyzed his notes. “So Travis left his buddy to hang. That could mean Bear might be persuaded to turn on him.”

  “I think we should let him stew for a while, and go pay my neighbor a visit. What do you say?”

  “I say we go for it.”

  Paul grinned and accelerated. “I thought you might say that.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Tell me eve
rything.”

  Cliff clasped his hands on the desk and waited. When Ryan had called and said he could he swing by the office to talk, Cliff pushed off his meeting with the housekeeping supervisors to the next day.

  “It was…interesting.” He braced his strong forearms on the desk and rested his head in his hands for a moment, and Cliff’s heart hurt for his best friend.

  “Take all the time you need.”

  “Shit, Cliff. I’m sorry to barge in here. I just didn’t think.”

  “Don’t apologize. You know you can always come to me. I’m here for you.”

  Ryan gave him a shadow of his good-natured smile. “It was hard, you know? Knowing they were burying him and I couldn’t be there. And now I’m feeling like, what’s the point of it all?”

  A chill ran through Cliff. “The point of what? Ry, you’re scaring me.”

  Ryan had always been the carefree party boy. To have him sitting there so despondent was unthinkable.

  “I’m not going to do anything drastic, don’t worry. But I don’t know how to get back to where I was.”

  “Maybe you won’t.” Ryan lifted his head, and Cliff nodded. “You’re not the same person, so why would you want to? But you can move forward, a different person. Changed, for sure. Plus, now you know.”

  “Know what?”

  It had always been Cliff turning to Ryan for advice. Now he was ready to give his friend all the love and support he needed.

  “Know what it means to love someone.”

  “Cliffie, I’m not ready.”

  “I didn’t say you were. Getting over someone you love takes time.”

  “We had a great time together.”

  “Did you ever tell him you were in love with him?”

  “No.” Ryan hung his head. “I was gonna talk to you about it. I figured you knew best. I wasn’t sure what I felt. And now I feel like shit because he’ll never know I really cared for him.”