Frankly Speaking - A Frank Rozzani Detective Novel (#1)

by Don Massenzio

Lieutenant William Francis Drake had come to a realization. Uncle Stanton was a bad person. Between what Velasquez had asked him and what he had pieced together on his own, his uncle was into something highly illegal. Drake may not have been the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was a cop and had some measure of cop instinct. He needed to know what was going on.

  He had faked being passed out and waited for Velasquez and Jones to leave him alone. Velasquez had taken his keys, but he had used the key hidden in the magnetic box under his rear fender when she left him alone at his house for a trip to the store. He didn’t take the time to grab clothes or anything else in case Velasquez came back. He needed to get himself together and come up with a plan for confronting his uncle. He headed down I-10 west toward his family hunting cabin about 45 minutes west of town. He knew it would be empty this time of year and there were some extra clothes and provisions there. Hopefully, no one would think to look for him there.

  Drake parked outside of the cabin and grabbed the key that was hidden on the property. Once inside, he switched on the generator and washed up. The warm water of the cabin’s small shower stall gave him time to think about the situation. He toweled off and pulled on some green camouflage pants, a JPD t-shirt, and some boots. He then pulled out the small gun safe under the bed and grabbed the 9mm handgun that he kept in it along with some ammo.

  Drake first tried his uncle’s house in Green Cove Springs.

  “Hello, Mr. Cobb’s office,” an unfamiliar voice answered.

  “Yes. Is Mr. Cobb in?”

  “No he isn’t. Can I ask who is calling?”

  “This is his nephew Lieutenant William Drake from the JPD. Who is this?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry Lieutenant Drake. I am filling in for the housekeeper and was just cleaning your uncle’s office.”

  “Do you know where he went?”

  “No, I don’t. He was here about 45 minutes ago but left in quite a hurry after receiving a telephone call.”

  “Ok, thanks. I’ll try his other number.”

  “You’re welcome sir.”

  Drake tried to think of where else his uncle would go. He had a good idea where he might be, especially if he felt the heat closing in on him. He didn’t think he would be at his house, but he tried the number anyway. It rang several times before going to a generic voice mail greeting.

  Drake decided to head for the law office.

  The parking lot was deserted except for one nondescript sedan parked near the front door. It could be a car belonging to one of Cobb’s staff members. He parked at an angle behind it blocking any possible exit, tucked his gun into the back of his pants and went to the front door. It was locked.

  He could see lights on through the glass entry door. He decided to unlock it the hard way and used the butt of his gun to break the glass so he could reach through. He opened the door and walked through not bothering to be quiet. The breaking glass had foiled any attempt at a quiet entry. Instead he decided to call out.

  “Uncle Stanton. Are you in here?”

  Silence.

  “Uncle Stanton. It’s William.”

  “In here. I’m in my office.”

  Drake cautiously walked to Cobb’s corner office keeping his handgun hidden hoping not to use it.

  Drake stood in the door frame of Cobb’s office.

  “Uncle Stanton, I need to talk to you. There are some things that don’t add up.”

  “William. I told you that you shouldn’t concern yourself with the details around my dealings. Dealings that make up the bulk of your inheritance, I might add.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass about my inheritance if it means that girls are being kidnapped, or worse.”

  “These girls deserve their fates thanks to their loose morals. Think of all of the families that we are helping by giving them a priceless gift.”

  “Priceless? It’s not exactly a priceless gift if it’s got something to do with my inheritance. Somebody’s payin’ for something.”

  “William, you don’t understand. People are getting exactly what they deserve and I am earning a modest fee for making it happen.”

  “Even if it ain’t legal? Uncle Stanton, I think it’s time we end this and I’m the one that’s gonna make that happen.”

  “You’re right about us needing to end this, but I think I will take the lead in making it happen.”

  Just then Cobb raised his own handgun that he had been hiding on his lap under his desk and fired at his great nephew. Drake’s police training, or maybe his dumb luck, saved his life as the shot went wide. And struck the wall to the left of the door frame. Drake ducked into the hallway and crouched down to the floor. The next shot from Cobb went high and into the wall across from his office.

  “Drop the gun Uncle Stanton. Don’t make me shoot you.”

  “You wouldn’t dare William. You don’t have the guts or the brains to outsmart me.”

  Drake raised his gun and shot his uncle between the eyes where he stood behind his desk.

  “No, Uncle, but I do have the record at the JPD gun range.”

  The shot killed Cobb instantly.

  Drake turned and slowly walked out to the receptionist’s desk and dialed 911.

  CHAPTER TWENTY