Dangerous & Deadly- The Nick Myers Series

by Tanya R. Taylor

  Suddenly, Lisa walked in and Betty assumed her previous position.

  “Need help with the cheesecake, Auntie?” Lisa asked.

  Betty glanced at Victor. “I sure do, honey, since you're dad here isn't much help to me right now, as you can see.”

  Victor shoved his hands into his pockets and started toward the door.

  * * * *

  That Saturday evening, forensics confirmed that the most recent severed limb recovered belonged to Ann Davis - the girl found through Third and Main. Why her killer opted to hide the body part in a toolbox underneath concrete puzzled the detectives, and they waited for Braxton, Nick’s mysterious informant, to call back again.

  The case was becoming more perplexing now. More than three weeks had passed since Freda Jennings’ murder, which had allegedly started it all. Nick and Lou both sensed that someone was constructing a convoluted web all around them, hemming them in for a rather shocking finale.

  THIRTEEN

  After putting on his coat, Victor waited at the door for Lisa. They were leaving later than usual that Monday morning and he dreaded the impending traffic.

  “I’m ready,” Lisa said, grabbing her backpack from the table. Tim looked on from the car as they advanced toward him, when suddenly, the phone rang.

  “I got it!” Lisa cried, rushing back to answer it before her father locked the door. Victor struggled to suppress his elevating impatience.

  “Hi,” went a familiar voice on the other line.

  “David?” Lisa whispered, turning away from her father.

  “Yeah. How are you doing?” He asked.

  “I’m fine. How are you?”

  “You'd never believe it, Lisa, but Friday night, I was fixing my truck when I heard my mother screaming inside the house...”

  “What happened to her?” Lisa interrupted, knowing she was pressed for time.

  “Lisa, who are you talking to?” Victor asked. “It's getting late; we have to go!”

  “Coming now, Dad,” she said. “Is she all right now?” Lisa quietly resumed her conversation with David.

  “Yeah. She's fine now.”

  “I'm glad to hear that, but right now, we're heading out to school, so call me later, okay? You can fill me in on the details then.”

  David agreed, and Lisa, now in a much better mood than she had been all morning, brushed past her father and headed to the car.

  As Victor locked the front door behind them, Lisa slumped into the back seat of the car and stashed her science textbook in her school bag.

  “What the hell took you so long?” Tim asked, rather agitatedly from the front seat.

  “Oh, nothing,” Lisa returned, smiling.

  “He called just now, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah.”

  Tim gave her a more serious eye. “Take my advice, Lise and get a grip. Guys are full of games, especially for little girls like you.”

  Unmoved by her brother's sentiment, Lisa made no attempt to rebut.

  At school, Lisa leaned forward from the back seat and gave her father a kiss before exiting the car. She was never concerned with who might be looking or of any opinions they held.

  “See ya, Dad,” Tim said, shutting the door behind him and walking away casually.

  Kelly waited by the fence for Lisa after being dropped off just seconds before the Emersons pulled up. She waved goodbye to Victor as he drove away. “Ready for the science mock?” She asked as they walked together.

  “Sure,” Lisa smiled. “Thanks a mil for loaning me your notes.”

  “No prob, but I really wonder what’s keeping your mind so occupied these days that it’s literally impossible for you to concentrate in class,” Kelly remarked, hoping her friend would spill the beans.

  Lisa smirked, but revealed nothing. Recently, she had pre-occupied herself in class by scribbling David's name at the back of her notebooks, therefore absorbing very little of the lessons mentally. As recourse, she would copy Kelly’s notes at lunch and study them later on.

  After sitting the science mock at the third period, the girls ate lunch under the pavilion. Afterwards, they sat on the bleachers and watched a few seniors play basketball.

  “So what did Calvin say today?” Lisa asked, referring to a nerdy eighth-grader who had a huge crush on Kelly. “Any more I love you notes or lunch invites slipping through the thin slit of your locker?”

  “He may have the hots for me deary, but after setting him straight about that locker thing the other day, he hadn't the nerve to try it again,” Kelly replied.

  “Oh really?” Lisa smirked.

  “Yes, really. Now, what's that secret you promised to tell me?” Excitement was written all over Kelly’s face. “You must admit, I've given you all the space and time you needed. Well, some space, but definitely time. How much patience do you think I have?”

  “Okay,” Lisa finally conceded after a few moments of intense consideration. Besides, she had already told her brother - the last person in the world she had ever expected to share her secret with. “I’ll tell you Kel, but this must remain a secret between us.”

  “Cross my heart and hope to die,” Kelly replied eagerly. “You’ve got my word.”

  Lisa sighed heavily. “It's just that I’ve been chatting with this guy over the phone...”

  “Wait! This big secret is about a guy? I knew it!” Kelly interjected.

  “This is a guy. I mean he's not like the boys in this school. He's a… man.”

  “Uh, huh. So how'd you meet him?” Kelly asked.

  “We haven’t met yet.”

  “So this guy appeared in a dream or something?”

  “Kelly, you don't understand. If you stop blurting out questions one after the other, then maybe I'll be able to explain,” Lisa barked.

  Kelly pasted her lips for the time being.

  “His name's David. He called my house one day and said that he was my secret admirer,” Lisa started.

  “Your secret admirer? How cool!”

  Lisa gave her friend a reprimanding look. “We've been speaking to each other just about every day for the past few weeks.”

  Kelly stared quietly at Lisa, her tongue itching to speak again.

  “All right, go ahead,” Lisa relented, sensing Kelly's enthusiasm.

  “I can speak?”

  “Yes, go ahead!” Lisa demanded.

  “You said you never met him right?”

  “Right.”

  “So when do you two plan to meet? How long does it take this guy to get over his shyness?” Kelly asked.

  “It has nothing to do with shyness,” Lisa retorted.

  “So what then? You both prefer telephone love instead?”

  “No, it's not that,” Lisa replied. She went on to explain what she knew about David’s current state.

  “So, you think your dad would allow you two to date?” Kelly asked.

  “’Course not, Kelly. You know how Dad is. When the time comes for David and me to meet, we're going to do so secretly.”

  “What if you get caught?”

  “Trust me. We won't,” Lisa said confidently.

  * * * *

  The bi-monthly Board meeting of A.R. Trust & Holdings went exceptionally well that morning. Victor and Harold decided to remain behind for a while after the others had filed out of the room. They sipped coffee and snacked on leftover finger food.

  “Four months into the fiscal year and the company has already earned a 17.5 million dollar profit!” Victor beamed. “If things continue to progress along that margin throughout the year, we’d be guaranteed one of the greatest revenues in our company’s history!”

  “It's all because of your relentless efforts, Son,” Harold said from across the long, oval desk.

  “It's all because of our efforts,” Victor returned.

  “Don't be modest, Victor. I've seen what you've done with this business. You’ve worked your tail off for me for the last what... twenty odd years?”

  “Something like that,�
�� Victor replied.

  Harold rested his cup down. “Victor, I've been thinking a lot lately that maybe it's time for me to retire and enjoy the time I have left with my dear, sweet Mare. For years, she's been nagging me to relax and smell the roses. Did I ever tell you that?”

  “Yeah, you have,” Victor said.

  “I think the time is right now.” He gave Victor a more serious eye. “I want you to control the company, Son. I want you to take over officially.”

  Victor was honored, but not surprised. Yet, no words came to mind.

  “I have full confidence in you,” Harold proceeded. “And I’d like to leave knowing the business is in fine, capable hands such as yours.”

  “Harold, I don't know what to say except that I'm flattered you would even consider me,” Victor said.

  “I know what you’re made of Victor, and besides, you’re just like my very own son; I wouldn’t have it any other way. Anyway, I know this is rather short notice, but I'm going to make this week my last. Mare insisted upon it,” he smiled. “I’ll have you sign the necessary documents tomorrow, if you’d accept, of course.”

  “I’d be honored, Harold,” Victor replied. “To actually be able to follow in your footsteps - the man I’ve admired like a father all these years - means a lot to me. I give you my word: I won’t disappoint you.”

  “I know you won’t, Son.” Harold took another sip of his coffee, then immediately clicked the intercom. “Peggy, would you get some more coffee in here? This thing is terrible when it’s cold,” he frowned.

  “Sure thing, sir!” Went the sprightly voice from the speaker.

  Peggy Rumford entered the room soon after and collected the coffee pot from the table. A tall, slender brunette in her late twenties, she had been Harold’s secretary for the past two years. “I'll be right back with a new pot, gentlemen,” she smiled.

  Harold looked at Victor and said, “She's a nice one - smart, intelligent, efficient. She has great potential for the business. See that she gets somewhere, will you?”

  Victor chuckled. “Sure, Harold. Anything you say.”

  Peggy returned a short while later with a hot pot of coffee. She poured each of them a fresh cup, then rested the pot on the table.

  “Thanks, Peggy. You’re a real doll,” Harold said.

  “You’re welcome, sir. You two enjoy, now.”

  “There's something I've been meaning to show you, Victor,” Harold retrieved a small, folded paper from his pocket after Peggy had left the room. “Something quite odd happened a few days ago and no matter how much I try to ignore it, I can't seem to get it out of my mind.”

  “What is it?” Victor asked as Harold unfolded the paper. Harold stared at it for a few moments before handing it to him.

  Victor read the letter. “Where’d you get this?” He looked at the old man worriedly.

  “I found it under my front door two nights ago after Mare and I returned home from dinner. It’s a good thing I noticed it after she had already walked inside because if she had found it, she would have been frightened out of her wits. You know how she is.”

  “Did you call the cops?”

  Harold stood up and was drawn toward the window. “No, I didn't. I wasn't sure if it was just a prank some kid from the neighborhood was playing on us, so I didn't want to make a big deal out of it.”

  “What if it really isn’t a prank, though?” Victor proposed. And though wanting to share the truth of his recent dilemma with Harold, he was skeptical. Then suddenly, an idea hit him. He backed out his chair and said, “Would you mind if I held on to this letter for a day or two?”

  “No, go right ahead,” Harold replied.

  Victor put the letter in his coat pocket and stood up. “Don't worry about this, Harold. It might be just like you said… nothing more than a prank.”

  Within the hour, Victor contacted Betty at work and arranged a meeting for later that day. Afterwards, Betty leaned back in her armchair. An air of trepidation suddenly enveloped her and evening could not come fast enough.

  FOURTEEN

  Nolan Freedman had held a recent press conference. He boldly demoralized the entire Los Angeles Police Department, blaming them for the deaths of all the slaughtered victims within the past month. Recently, he was featured on several television and radio programs arousing the public’s anxiety at the expense of The L.A.P.D.

  Chief Tuyler was suddenly bending under more pressure and scrutiny than at any other time during his thirty-year career in law enforcement. He was scheduled to hold a news conference at four o’clock that afternoon and had already prepared himself for the verbal whip-lash he knew would come with it.

  Nick Myers and Lou Riley were summoned to his office and advised to bring along written reports of everything they had on the case. Though sweating profusely in the air-conditioned room, Tuyler seemed not as agitated as the detectives suspected he might be. Instead, he reviewed their reports meticulously, then calmly suggested that they find the serial-killer within twenty-four hours or start looking for alternative means of employment. He ground out his cigar butt in the ashtray, tugged at his vest coat and headed for the conference room.

  As Tuyler went to face the media, Nick and Lou headed out to pay Edith Larson another visit. While in the neighborhood, they kept an eye open for Joe-Boy.

  “Chief could really be a first-class jerk sometimes,” Lou commented, as his escalating frustration started to take its toll. “Could you believe he actually threatened to fire us? He didn't even say he'd kick us off the case. Instead, he threatened to fire us!”

  “Kick us off the case? Sal knows we're the best detectives he’s got. We've solved more homicide cases than anyone else in the department. I'd like to know how the hell he even thinks he could fire us,” Nick growled.

  “How? He's the Chief of Police, that’s how! He can pull any string over the Mayor's eyes to make us look incompetent.”

  “Over the Mayor's eyes at this point in time? I don't think so,” Nick rebutted. “The Mayor’s a smart guy. He would know by the amount of pressure Sal's been under that he'd try to make anyone look incompetent, except for himself.”

  Nick pulled hard to the side of the road in front of Edith’s house, leaving just enough room between the car and the chain-link fence for him to get out.

  Lou shook his head as he got out of the car. “They should have had your license revoked a long time ago,” he said.

  “Very funny, Riley. I bet if you were driving, you would have closed yourself in all together,” Nick replied. He mounted the porch and knocked on the door.

  Lou stood near the railing, looking to see if anyone was out back. “She's probably at work,” he said after no one answered the door.

  “For some reason, I don't think so,” Nick returned. “I've only met Edith twice and I could tell that she was really interested in being of any assistance possible to help solve this case. She would have called us by now.” He knocked again - this time, louder.

  “So what are you saying?” Lou asked.

  Nick looked over at Rufus Ferguson’s house. He then walked over and noticed that the screen door was open slightly. He called at the door while Lou went around to check Edith’s back yard.

  “Hold on. I'm coming,” a voice escaped from the house. Rufus appeared at the door moments later, wearing only a long, grey pants. His hair was dry and knotty. “Yeah, what you want?” he asked, opening the door wider.

  Nick slipped out his badge. “Remember me? I’m Detective Myers? I was here about a week ago looking for Miss Larson next door there.”

  Rufus stepped out onto the porch, getting a better look at the officer. “Oh, yeah, I remember you. It was like you said. You was looking for Eadie one day and you left a message with me for her, and a card with your name and number on it.”

  “I was wondering if Miss Larson got that card,” Nick said.

  “No, 'cause I hadn't seen her. She never came back home. That house over there is just like you left it the last day y
ou was here.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Nick probed.

  “I’m surer than sure. I stayed on this here porch all day that day and I didn't blink a wink ‘til late that evening. In fact, I slept right out here in the cool breeze, so if she mounted those steps over there to get inside that house a hers, I would’ve heard her. I sleep lighter than a feather.”

  Nick tried to digest the implications of what Rufus had just revealed. “So, let me make sure I got this: You're telling me that Miss Larson never returned home since last week?”

  “That's what I'm saying,” Rufus affirmed.

  “Are you sure she didn't go away to visit a friend or relative somewhere?”

  “Look, I don't keep no tabs on Eadie, except when she wants me to. One thing I can say for sure - whenever Eadie is gonna be away from home for a few days, she always tells me where she's going and when she's coming back. The last time I saw her, she didn't say she was going away for a few days and at the same time, she didn't say where she was headed that day. But like I said the last time you was here, she looked like she was going to work.”

  “And you have no idea where she works?”

  “Eadie does some maid work twice a week for some folks out there on the uppity side. Most likely, she catches the bus all the way out there and all the way back, 'cause that old car a hers out there ain’t worth nothin’. I have no idea who these people is she goes to,” Rufus said.

  “Do you know any of her relatives?” Nick asked.

  “Her sister, Natalie, lives South Central,” Rufus replied. “I went there once with Eadie to do some painting for her.”

  “Do you know her last name?”

  “Yeah. Brooks. I remember it good.”

  Nick got the contact information for Edith’s sister and thanked Rufus for his help. He and Lou planned to do some immediate investigating on the apparent disappearance of Edith Larson.

  * * * *

  Victor tossed his coat over the arm of the sofa and called out to the kids. The house was utterly silent. Assuming that Netta had already left for the day, he headed upstairs.