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

by Felice Stevens

  “He knew. The way you stayed with him and wouldn’t leave his side? Trust me, he knew.”

  “I hope so.”

  The silence built between them for a moment. “How was the meeting with his grandmother?”

  The first smile he saw from Ryan brightened his face. “She’s a character.”

  “So she was okay with you?” Cliff hoped to lead the conversation to something less sad.

  “Yeah. She made a peach cobbler, and we sat on her deck and talked. She told me how Shelby used to bring home all these critters from the creek and fields. Even when he was a little boy, he wanted to be a policeman and would pretend to arrest her if she tried to do something he didn’t like.” A smile tugged his lips up. “He loved caring for people and things and joined their EMT squad in high school.”

  “Did she know who you were? Or what your relationship was?”

  “Oh, yeah. Granny—that’s what they call her—said that she doesn’t need to know who is sharing whose bed. ‘Keep the government out of my bedroom,’ she said. As long as you’re kind to your parents and God-fearing, she’s fine.” He chuckled. “I think she was more afraid I was a northerner.”

  “Sounds like she loved him.”

  “Shelby was her pet. He’d come by after school and bring her ice cream, and when he became a police officer, he’d take her for drives in the patrol car. Granny’s a big fan of the murder shows and thought it was all very exciting.”

  “I couldn’t imagine Paul doing that.”

  “No way.” Ryan grinned. “He’s too stuffy.”

  Cliff laughed inside, thinking about the other night when he and Paul played a game of Catch Me If You Can with his handcuffs. He’d never been so turned-on in all his life. Stuffy? Hell, no. He refocused on Ryan, who was still speaking, but made a mental note to revisit that particular game again in the very near future.

  “Their town was tiny. Less than a thousand people. Everyone knows everyone else, so it wasn’t a big deal for him to give his granny a ride.”

  “I’m sure it was cute and made her happy.”

  “Yeah.” The light faded from Ryan’s face. “Brianna said when they found out Shelby died, Granny refused to say anything. Just locked herself away in her house and wouldn’t see any of them until the funeral.”

  “It must’ve been a horrible shock. So painful.”

  “She’s one of those people who believe in fate. She told me not to spend my life thinking what might’ve been. She believes Shelby was here on earth for a purpose.” Ryan shrugged. “It’s too cut-and-dried for me, but I get it. I’m just happy I got to meet her and learn a little more about him.”

  Cliff checked his watch. “Want to come to dinner? We can have drinks on the deck. I have no idea what time Paul will be home. His schedule is pretty erratic when he’s in the midst of an investigation.”

  “That would be great. I’d rather not spend the evening alone until my shift.”

  Cliff would bet a week’s salary that Ryan wouldn’t have to be alone because Joshua would jump at the chance to spend some time together, but Ryan needed to heal.

  “I’m ready to go home, so follow me, and I’ll meet you there?”

  “All right.”

  They parted ways at the garage, and within half an hour, Cliff pulled into his driveway. He exited his car to see Ryan’s, with its bumper stickers from the Thornwood Park Fire Department, pull in front of the house. He met him at the paved walkway to his front porch.

  “Any more issues?” Ryan lifted his sunglasses and tipped his head. “You know, from that idiot across the street?”

  “No, but I think he’s involved somehow with everything going on. Paul can’t talk about it, but I know they’ve spoken to Travis numerous times.”

  “If that fucker had anything to do with Shelby’s death, I’ll make sure he regrets it.” Ryan’s eyes narrowed, spitting blue fire, alarming Cliff.

  “Ry, don’t be stupid. Let Paul and Rob do their jobs.” He put his arm around Ryan’s shoulder to steer him toward the entrance.

  A shout rang out from the street. “Baxter. You cheating on your man?”

  Cliff stopped walking then, but remembering Paul’s words to ignore Travis, he pulled Ryan along with him. “Come on.”

  “You bringing all these men back to your house? This is a family neighborhood. What kind of pervert are you?”

  “Cliff, you’re going to let him talk to you like that?”

  “Paul said to leave it, so I’m trying not to engage him.”

  “Guess y’all didn’t learn a lesson.”

  Ryan stiffened and stormed off across the street to face Travis, who stood on the sidewalk, smirking.

  “Who the fuck you think you’re talking to?”

  Always friendly, Ryan changed in front of his eyes into someone Cliff had never seen. For a moment, his ferocious response startled Travis. Ryan was six-foot-two and all muscle, a formidable sight when angry.

  “Get out of my face, pretty boy.”

  “What did you mean about learning a lesson?”

  Travis said nothing, his thin lips pressed together in an ugly smirk.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “I don’t gotta answer you. Baxter knows what I mean.”

  “You have something to do with shooting out my window, Travis?”

  “Now why would you say that? If I want to see you and your cop boyfriend, all I have to do is look inside.” He spit on the ground, and Cliff’s stomach lurched. “Y’all need to make sure you keep your blinds closed.” His confidence returned, and he faced Cliff with a leer. “Wouldn’t want people to see what you been doing, now would you?”

  Recoiling from Travis and the thought that he might have been lurking outside their house, Cliff turned on his heel, and shaking, walked away. He made it across the street and up his front steps before breaking out into huge gasps of outrage and anger.

  Ryan appeared at his side. “You okay?”

  “No.” He took out his key and watched his hand tremble. Ryan took the keys from him and opened the lock. They entered the house, where Ryan led him into the kitchen and poured him a glass of wine.

  “Here.”

  “Thanks.” With a grateful smile, Cliff took the wineglass and drank deeply. “I can’t believe that bastard.”

  “You think he’s been peeping in your windows? Dude, that’s so disgusting.”

  Recalling how many times he and Paul had made love without considering whether the shades were closed and the curtains drawn completely, Cliff’s face burned. Now he was worried that the other night, when they’d had sex right there on the couch, Travis might’ve seen everything.

  “We might not be that strict about curtains and blinds and stuff, but who would think someone would be looking in their windows?”

  Ryan took a beer. “You gonna tell Paul?”

  “I have to. It involves him too.” Groaning, Cliff slumped against the kitchen island. “God, he’s going to be furious.” Miserable, he sipped his wine. “Let’s go out back. It’s too nice to be inside. I’m just going to change clothes.”

  “Sounds good. Meet you outside.”

  He set his glass on the counter and started loosening his tie as he walked to the bedroom. Mindful of what he’d just learned, Cliff crossed the bedroom to the windows to lower the blinds. He glanced out of the window and saw a small black box mounted on the side of the house. The longer he stared at it, the more questions he had. He lowered the blinds and drew the curtains completely.

  Shedding the rest of his clothes, he put on a T-shirt and jeans, and barefooted, picked up his wine before joining Ryan on the deck. Debating for a moment, he stood by the steps leading to the grass and waved to Ryan. “Come with me?”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I want to show you something. Get your opinion.”

  “Sure.”

  With Ryan at his side, he pointed up to the little black box he’d seen from the bedroom. “What do you think that is?
”

  Ryan walked closer and squinted. “Looks like a camera. Like a home security system a company would set up. Tons of calls come in to the police department and sometimes the firehouse from people who set off their alarms by accident.”

  “Is it possible someone could’ve set this up without Paul or me knowing?”

  Ryan shrugged. “I guess, but why? Do you think Paul did it?”

  “Paul? Why would he do it without telling me? It’s my house. He wouldn’t do something like that without talking to me first.”

  Together they returned to the deck and relaxed in the chaise lounges. The sun settled, and a breeze played warm against his face. Ryan got several texts, and Cliff checked his work email to make sure no emergencies popped up.

  He took a sip of wine. “I wonder if Travis did it and pointed it to our bedroom.”

  Wide-eyed, Ryan stared at him. “You’re kidding. You think he’s filming you in your bedroom? That’s sick.”

  “What else can I think? It’s the only explanation that makes sense. Travis is obsessed with Paul and me being lovers and having sex. It’s all he talks about. And sometimes when people protest too much, it’s because they’re repressing their own feelings.”

  Ryan sucked in his breath. “You think Travis is gay?”

  Cliff spread out his hands. “Who knows? But he’s awfully into talking about our sex lives.”

  “I don’t know, man. That would be pretty sick.”

  “Yeah.” Cliff got a text and smiled as he read it. “It’s Paul. He’s got one more person to question, and then he’s coming home. I know he’d be happy to see you.”

  Ryan finished his beer. “Can I take a rain check?”

  “Sure. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. It’s just that Joshua’s anxious to hear how my trip went too, so he invited me to dinner at his parents’ house.”

  “Of course. We can do it another time. Besides, I’m sure once Paul gets home and I tell him about that creepy stalker camera, he’ll be furious and want to go over there and arrest Travis.”

  “Yeah. Let me know what happens.”

  “I will. Hopefully I won’t have to call his partner to rein him in. It won’t take much for Paul to go off on Travis. He’s been angry with him since he made those comments to me.” He walked Ryan inside and out the front door to his car.

  “If you’re free this weekend, why don’t we get the group together? Either have a barbecue here or maybe go out?”

  Before Ryan could respond, a car drove down the street and parked in front of Travis’s house. Paul and Rob jumped out and strode with determined steps up the stairs and banged on the front door, not bothering with the bell. Cliff knew that intensity of Paul’s very well, had seen it in action both personally and professionally.

  “What do you think that’s all about?” Ryan asked him.

  “I have no idea, but whatever it is,” he said grimly, “I feel sorry for Travis.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  While Paul drove to Travis’s, Rob received a text from Ortega’s brother and returned the call. He put the phone on speaker.

  “Thanks for calling us so quickly.”

  “Listen, Detectives. These guys ain’t nothin’ but trouble. I once had one of them—Travis Falk—making deliveries for me, but I caught him skimming the money, so I fired his ass. Fucker’s had it in for me since.” Danny Ortega sounded agitated. “At least three times a week he and his homies come to my store, buy cigarettes and 45s, and think that gives them the right to hang out in front of my store half the day. I can’t prove it ’cause I don’t got eyes everywhere, ya know, but I know they’re stealing. I tell them, ‘Y’all ain’t payin’ me rent. Get outta my store.’ They’re intimidating my other customers when they start talking their shit.”

  “What do they say?” Rob took notes.

  “Lotsa shit like, ‘Go back to your own country,’ ‘Immigration gonna come and get you,’ ‘You’re takin’ our jobs,’ ‘We speak English here.’ All that kinda shit.” Danny made a sound of disgust. “Man, I was born in Brooklyn. I belong here as much as they do.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Hey, Danny. This is Paul. Can you give us descriptions of the guys?”

  “Sure can. Buncha ugly fuckers.”

  He and Rob exchanged smiles as Danny described Wellie, Bear, and Travis to a tee.

  “Have you heard them talk about anything else? Anything at all you think we should be aware of?”

  “Listen, Detectives. I don’t want no trouble, ya know? I’m just tryin’ to make a living here. But things is changin’, and it ain’t for the better.”

  “Tell us what’s going on, Danny. We won’t reveal anything unless we have to.”

  “You know my brother’s a cop. I’m always down to help you guys out.” He took a breath. “So that fire? You know, at the Wild Orchid?”

  Paul’s teeth ground together. “Yeah, we know.”

  “Day or so after, buncha them were in my store. I heard bits and pieces like, Bear and Wellie done good, but Travis almost fucked up and didn’t get there in time, and you know who ain’t gonna be happy.”

  “Do you know who they’re referring to? Any other names mentioned?”

  “Nope, just those three.”

  “Anything else you can think of?”

  “No, not that I can…oh, wait a sec. I knew I was forgetting somethin’.”

  “What?” They were nearing Travis’s house, and Paul wanted to get as much info as they could before talking to him.

  “I thought it was funny, you know, that someone like Travis, who don’t got a job that I can see and ain’t won the lotto that I know of, was wearing a nice, thick gold chain.”

  He and Rob glanced at each other. “Oh? Did he say where he got it?”

  “No. Just kept touching it, like he was really aware he had it on. Something you do when you’re wearing somethin’ new, ya know?”

  “Yeah. Danny, you’ve been really helpful.”

  “Hope so, Detectives. I’ll keep my eyes ’n ears open.”

  “Do that. Thanks.”

  “Bye.”

  Rob hit End Call and slipped the phone back into his jacket pocket. “Well. That was eye-opening.”

  “Yeah. What do you think? Who the hell is this unnamed person? Sounds like the leader. And I think we can infer Travis had something to do with the break-in at the jewelry store.” He slowed down and turned onto his block. “I’d love to find some of the jewelry in his house.”

  “There’s no way they would sell all the items at once. Too suspicious. So maybe we’ll get lucky and see something in plain sight, ’cause we don’t have a search warrant.”

  They parked, and Paul noticed Cliff and Ryan across the street, but he couldn’t afford to become distracted. He and Rob took the steps at a run and banged on the door.

  “Come on,” he muttered.

  Finally they could hear the sound of shuffling footsteps, and the door was yanked open by a hazy-eyed Travis, whose snarl turned into a sneer. The smell of weed drifted out from behind him.

  “Oh, looky here. My favorite cop. You come to frisk me?”

  The urge to punch the leering grin off Travis’s face nearly choked him, and his hand balled into a fist. Lucky for him, Rob could read his mind and smoothly intercepted him as he continued to entertain thoughts of pounding Travis into the pavement.

  “May we come in, Travis?”

  “Whaddya want?” Travis asked, his eyes narrowing.

  The wink of a heavy gold chain nestled in his thick chest hair caught Paul’s eye, and he forced himself to smile.

  “We need to check some facts, and you’re the only one who can help us.”

  “Fuck you. I ain’t helping no cops.” He started to close the door, but Rob put his hand out to stop it.

  “There’s also a reward for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the people involved.”

  Greed warred with hate on Travis’s face. “A reward?�
�

  “Yeah, Trav,” Rob said encouragingly. “A big one.”

  As he’d hoped, avarice won out, and Travis opened the door for them. “C’min.”

  “You lead here,” he murmured to Rob. They entered, and Paul’s eyes began to water from the smell of weed.

  “Damn, Trav, you got some good stuff.”

  Without waiting to be asked, Rob settled into the big club chair. Paul took the hardback, and Travis slouched onto the couch.

  “Ain’t breakin’ the law. It’s legal.”

  “Never said you were.”

  He blinked at Rob, ignoring Paul completely. “You want a hit? Off the record, of course. I ain’t even asking him.” Travis cackled and jerked his head toward Paul, who kept a stoic face but inwardly grinned, loving how Rob skillfully played the situation.

  “Nah, but thanks for asking. I gotta wait until I’m off the clock, you know?” Rob chuckled. “But don’t let me stop you.”

  Paul knew Rob didn’t even like cigarette smoke and kept his drinking to one or two a week.

  “Yeah.” Travis picked up a beer can, drained it, then belched loudly. “How much we talkin’ about?”

  “Oh, thousands of dollars. Ten, maybe twenty. It’s getting bigger every day. It all goes to the person who gives the best information.”

  “Mmm.” Travis lit a skinny joint and blew the smoke toward Paul.

  “Did you hear about your friend Bear?”

  Squinting, Travis stared at the floor. “No, what’d the dumbass do?”

  “You know, Travis.” Paul stepped in now, eager to egg him on, wanting to get a little rise out of him. “You were part of it. At least that’s what he told us.”

  “What?” His head jerked up. “What the fuck did he say?”

  “That you were stealing liquor from Moonshine and started beating up on the old lady who owns the store, but then you ran out and left him.”

  “The fuck he said. He did it. I didn’t have nuthin’ to do with it.” Wild-eyed and snarling, Travis clenched his hand into a fist. “Nuthin’. I swear.”

  “Not what he’s saying. But I know you’ll tell us the truth.”