* * * *
Early the following morning, Jax went to find Donovan, who had already left the house. Unsurprisingly, the man was at the shelter. He and Noel were standing in front of a cage that held a dog Jax was certain had been abused.
“He was dropped off at the vet’s two days ago,” Donovan explained when Jax asked.
“Tied to the railing on her front porch,” Noel added angrily as he knelt and opened the cage door. The dog cowered back into the corner, shivering in fear. “Hey,” Noel said softly. “It’s okay, boy. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Susan joined them, kneeling beside her brother. She reached into the cage very slowly, obviously ready to pull her hand back if the dog tried to bite. As she did, she cooed encouraging words to calm the dog. It took time, but finally she was able to stroke its head.
Donovan smiled, whispering, “She’s the best when it comes to getting mistreated dogs to start trusting again.” He beckoned for Jax to follow him outside before asking in a normal tone of voice, “Were you looking for me?”
“I was. I’m going to have to put restoring those books on hold for a few days, I’m afraid. Something’s come up that I have to deal with.”
Donovan didn’t look happy, but he nodded. “Personal?”
“Yes. Family.” Jax shook his head. “Sometimes I think being an orphan would be a nice alternative. Not really, but…”
“There are times when I might agree with you. All right. It’s not like the books will disintegrate without your tender mercies while you’re gone. Call before you come back, please, so I can plan accordingly.”
“I will.” Jax glanced past Donovan when he saw movement. Noel was standing in the doorway, watching him speculatively…again. And again, when he was aware Jax had noticed, he turned away and went back inside.
Something’s going on with him. Jax had a thought. One that amused him on some level. Maybe he’s got a thing for Donovan and thinks I’m trying to cut in? Of course that would presume both he and Donovan are gay, and from what I’ve seen of Donovan, I seriously doubt he is. Okay, that’s presumptive, but I’m usually pretty good at sensing when a guy is, or isn’t. Noel? I haven’t been around him often enough to figure it out one way or the other.
For the moment he wasn’t going to worry about it. He had other things on his plate that took precedence. Returning to his room, Jax booked a flight home. He decided there was no reason to pack everything he’d brought with him as he planned on returning, so he didn’t.
Two hours later, he was standing in line at the airport’s security check point, showing the man his ID—which was in a name that wasn’t his, with a picture that was not his real face but matched what he looked like at the moment.
Chapter 4
“Mr. Roberts. A pleasure to meet you,” Benjamin Alton said, holding out his hand. It was Friday evening and after spending most of the day doing some deep research on the man, Jax had set it up through his intermediary to meet him.
Jax shook it as he said, “Please call me Tom, Mr. Alton. It’s less…formal.”
“Only if you call me Ben. I’m about to order dinner, if you’d care to join me.”
Jax nodded, taking a seat at the table, which was set off from the rest of them in the restaurant Ben Alton owned.
“Now, what can I do for you?” Alton asked. “A mutual friend of ours said you have a proposition for me, which is intriguing.”
Jax dipped his head in agreement but didn’t reply as a waiter had appeared between them, handing Jax a menu. “Would you gentlemen care for drinks before you eat?” the man asked.
Jax ordered a scotch on the rocks, while Alton said, “My usual, please.”
While they waited for their drinks to arrive, they chatted about Jax’s impressions of the city as this was his first time there—according to him. It wasn’t until after they’d gotten their drinks and ordered their meals that Alton returned the conversation to his original question. “What can I do for you, Tom?”
Jax replied, “It’s more what I can do for you. I understand you’ve been hired to obtain a specific item, which won’t be easy as the man you work…well, worked with, is now, shall we say, unavailable.” Jax decided he should couch any discussion about why he was there in very general terms. They might be sitting well away from anyone else in the restaurant, but that did not mean someone, the police or Feds, wasn’t covertly listening, given what Alton did when he wasn’t running his restaurant.
Alton scowled and started to say, “The fool got…” Then he paused, apparently realizing why Jax had been very cautious in his wording. “He decided he didn’t like working for me and took off to parts unknown.”
“So now you need someone new. As I’m certain our mutual friend told you, I’m very good at what I do. I believe that between us we can complete the job you were hired for. I presume your employer is willing to pay top price for us to do it.”
“He is.” Alton looked hard at Jax. “You come with good recommends, but how do I know I can trust you, despite that?”
Jax smiled. “You don’t. However, the same holds true for me. After all, you lost your last partner. Perhaps you gave him a shove, shall we say, to get him to quit?”
Alton glared at him for a moment. Then, he smiled. “Touché. All right, you’re in. The job has to be done quickly before the item is…Well, I’m sure our mutual friend told you the specifics.”
“He did.” Jax was aware he meant that the item, a painting, was about to be donated to a prestigious museum where breaching the security would be virtually impossible. “I’ll need to know everything about…Never mind. We’ll discuss that after we’ve eaten.”
“A good idea, since our meals are arriving. We don’t want to ruin dinner by talking business.”
They didn’t talk, concentrating on eating, and when they finished Jax suggested they take a walk “Because I ate way more than I should have and need to work it off.”
Alton chortled and agreed, saying they could go to a nearby park.
When they got there, the first thing Jax said was, “Why the hell did you want to meet at your restaurant?”
“So I could get a feeling for what you were like. If I weren’t impressed, it would have been dinner and nothing more.”
“I suppose that makes some sort of convoluted sense. Now, about the painting. I need to know specifics, such as where it is at the moment, what type of security we’ll be dealing with, and exactly how much time we have to do the job.”
“Two days,” Alton replied. “The present owner has an estate a few miles outside of the city. I’ve visited there several times, because my restaurant has catered some of his parties. The security is exactly what you’d expect. Excellent, but nothing I can’t handle, with your help.”
“All right. I presume you have all the information we need at home. I’d like to see it.”
“Of course. We can go there now. Where did you park?”
“I took a cab, so I guess I’ll be riding with you.”
“Not a problem.”
The rest of the evening, and well into the early hours of Saturday morning, were spent going over everything from the layout of the estate to what it would take for Jax and Alton to get inside, retrieve the small but extremely valuable painting, and leave without being caught.
When they finished, Jax returned to his hotel feeling confident their plans, and his own, would work.
* * * *
It was three A.M. Saturday night when Alton said through Jax’s ear bud, “We’re in.”
“Good,” Jax replied. The mic he wore was so sensitive it made it possible for Alton to hear his barely whispered words as clearly as he’d heard Alton’s.
Alton had used a high-tech jammer to discover the radio frequency of the wireless security and disable it, while Jax took care of the phone lines. Even with that, they were taking no chances. Alton knew exactly where the painting was and chose their entry point accordingly. They were in and out within seven minutes; includi
ng the time it took to recalibrate the jammer to deal with the monitoring tag on the painting. The tag worked independently of, and on a different frequency from the security system and they needed it turned off so the whereabouts of the painting couldn’t be traced until they had a chance to remove the tag. They knew the jammer recalibration would enable the house security, but they’d be gone well before the police made it to the estate.
Less than three minutes after leaving the house, they arrived at Alton’s car, which he’d parked on the service road behind the estate’s grounds.
“We did it,” Jax crowed with fake enthusiasm as he got in. He’d had no doubts that they would. Alton was an expert when it came to B&E.
“Of course,” Alton replied, his gaze going to the bag holding the painting lying in the back seat before he started the car. “We make a good team.”
Jax smiled slowly. “Is that an offer?”
“It might be, Tom. I haven’t decided. Are you interested, if it is?”
“Could be. I’ll have to think about it.” He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket, wrapped it around his stun gun and eased it out. “All right, I’ve thought about it and the answer is no. I work alone,” he said, pressing the gun to Alton’s neck before the man realized what was happening. It didn’t knock him out, but it incapacitated him long enough for Jax to smash his fist against Alton’s temple. That did the trick. Alton fell forward, his face hitting the top of the steering wheel.
Jax was out of the car and around to the driver’s side door moments later. He stripped off the man’s latex gloves, tossing them under a bush on the side of the road where they’d be easily found by the police. Finally, he dragged Alton from the car, dropping him in the shallow ditch beside the road. Even a blind cop will find him, if they hurry.
“Sleep well,” Jax murmured as he got back in the car and drove away. Whether the cops found Alton before he regained consciousness, or identified him from his fingerprints on the interior of the gloves, didn’t matter as far as Jax was concerned. Either way, Alton would have a hard time explaining why he’d been on the scene when the painting had been stolen.
As soon as he got back to the city, Jax left Alton’s car in the lot behind his restaurant. Only then did he take off the latex gloves he’d worn since the beginning of the robbery. Tucking the bag with the painting under his arm, he returned to his hotel to get some well-earned sleep. He awoke just before noon on Sunday, showered, then, as he dressed and packed, turned on the TV to catch the news. The story about the robbery came on right after the national news. According to what the police had told the reporter, they had a line on who had broken into a suburban home and stolen an extremely valuable painting. “However,” the officer being interviewed said, “When we arrived at the home of one Benjamin Alton, the owner of a local restaurant, whose fingerprints were found in latex gloves at the scene of the robbery, his housekeeper said that he had gone on a business trip and she didn’t know when he’d return. At this point we have a nationwide BOLO out on him.”
Jax had no doubts that Alton would be located sooner or later. Eventually, Jax would sell the painting to a private collector through a fence who knew him by a name that was neither his own nor the one he’d given Alton. As always, a quarter of the money he earned would be donated anonymously to the animal shelter he supported. His one good deed, as he often thought of it.
He caught an early evening flight home, stashed the painting in his safe for the time being, then, after becoming Mick Ingram, took advantage of the hour to visit one of the clubs he frequented. The evening ended in a cute man’s bed where Jax was able to work off the residual tension from the last few days.
* * * *
“Welcome back, Jackson,” Donovan said Monday morning when he let Jax into the house. “Is everything all right with your family?”
“Yeah, it’s all good, now.” Jax shook his head. “Why I get to be the mediator between my siblings when they get upset with each other is beyond me, but it is what it is, I guess.”
“Better you than me,” Donovan replied. “If you’re hungry, I’m sure Mrs. Greene wouldn’t mind making you some lunch.”
“I’m fine, thanks. I picked up something at the airport when I landed. I’ll unpack and then get back to what you’re paying me for.”
“I’ll see you at dinner, then,” Donovan said.
Even though he spent only a couple of hours in the workroom that afternoon, Jax was able to repair the damage to one of the books. After cleaning up, he joined Donovan in the living room for drinks, and then for dinner.
“Did you rescue any more dogs while I was gone?” Jax asked.
“I wish I could say no. It would be great if there weren’t any left to rescue. In a perfect world that would be the case, but this isn’t that world. A passerby saw a dog that someone had dumped by the highway, about five miles from here. She brought it to the vet, who examined the poor thing. It was malnourished, with burrs imbedded in two of its paws, which she removed. We’ll bring him up to optimum weight for his size and then, hopefully, Noel will be able to find a foster for him, or best-case scenario, a loving home. As is too often the case, he had no tags and no chip.”
“What kind of dog?”
“Mixed breed. A lot of lab, some pittie, and some who knows what,” Donovan told him. “What we used to call a Heinz 57. Susan named him Andre.”
They continued talking dogs as they ate, and how too many people found it easier to dump them, rather than bringing them to shelters or vets when they grew out of the cute puppy stage, or when an owner was moving on and didn’t want to be bothered taking the dog with them.
When dinner was over, Donovan told Jax that he would be going into the city for a couple of days. “If I don’t,” he said with a laugh, “my assistant will begin to wonder if I’ve abandoned him, leaving him to his own devises.”
Jax chuckled, promising he wouldn’t slack off while Donovan was gone. “If the repairs go as I hope, I should finish by the day after tomorrow. Then, if you’re willing, I’ll raid your library for more books that need my expertise.”
“That would be fine with me. As long as you’ve got the time to spend here, I’ve got the money to pay you to do whatever you think they need.”
Jax had no problem with that. He didn’t need the money per se, although he wouldn’t turn it down. He did like being away from the hustle and bustle of city life. As much as he loved his condo, it was nice to spend some time in the relative solitude of the estate.
* * * *
Jax spent most of Tuesday working on the second of the three books he’d selected. He discovered there was more damage than he’d originally thought and repairing it was a time-consuming business. So when he eventually finished, mid-afternoon, he was more than ready to get out of the workroom and out of the house as well.
At first he considered driving to a small mall he’d passed on his way to the estate but the idea held no real draw. Instead, he decided to go back to the shelter to see the newest acquisition.
Susan grinned when he came into the yard outside the kennels. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?”
“Not to bust you bubble, but I needed to get out of the house and stretch my legs.”
“And very nice legs they are,” she replied, then clapped her hand over her mouth in obviously feigned dismay. “Was that sexual harassment?”
Jax laughed. “If it was, I’ll ignore it. I really came by to see; I think Donovan said you named him Andre?”
“I did. Come on.” She led the way inside the shelter and down to a cage at the end of one row. “Andre,” she said to the dog, “this is Jackson. He wants to meet you.”
The dog was very thin, its ribs showing through its fur. That didn’t keep it from approaching him, if a bit cautiously. Kneeling, Jax stuck his fingers through the wire. Andre sniffed them then rubbed his head against them, so Jax scratched behind one ear.
“You have a friend,” Noel said as he came out of the office. From the tone of hi
s voice he was being sarcastic, which struck Jax as strange.
“He wanted attention, I gave it to him,” Jax replied, looking up at the younger man. “Does it bother you?”
Noel shrugged before saying to Susan, “I found a home for Millie.”
“Yes!” She pumped a fist. “Who?”
“Remember the Nortons? They were by about a week ago.”
“She’ll be perfect for them.” Turning to Jax she said, “They’re an older couple and Millie is very laid back, so it’s a good match.” Her phone rang, she checked it, smiled, and walked away as she answered.
“That was her boyfriend, in case you wondered,” Noel said.
“I didn’t,” Jax replied. “Why would it matter to me to begin with?”
“I just…I don’t want you getting any ideas is all. She’s definitely taken.”
Jax laughed, shaking his head. “Believe me, I’m not looking. I’m happily single and plan on remaining so.”
“Okay. Sorry. Sometimes guys who come out here try to hit on her.”
“And you act as her protector, the way a brother should. Does she keep you safe from women who try to hit on you?”
“No, because she knows I’m not interested.” With that said, Noel turned on his heel heading back toward the office.
“Married?”
Noel stopped and looked at him. “If it’s any of your business, no, I’m not. Not married, not engaged, not seeing anyone. Does that answer your question?”
“It does. Sorry I asked.” Jax returned his attention to Andre, reaching his fingers through the wire again to given him more scratches behind his ears. The dog responded by licking his fingers. “If I was looking for a dog…” But I’m not. As I told Donovan, having one wouldn’t be fair to it. I’m gone almost as much as I’m at home.
He stood, ready to leave, and saw Noel standing in the office doorway watching him. The moment the young man realized Jax had seen him he hurried inside, quickly closing the door behind him.
You are one strange guy. What is going on with you? Does my being here rub you the wrong way for some reason?
A Man of Many Parts Page 4