Rock Wolf Investigations: Boxset

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Rock Wolf Investigations: Boxset Page 68

by Dee Bridgnorth


  “I get that we’re here because some vandals are breaking the no skateboarding rule,” Ace said as soon as Laurie gestured for him to speak. “But I just think you should know that some of us have been getting phone calls from Josh Bentley.”

  Funny, but in all of their planning through the day, neither Younger nor Laurie had thought about the possibility of Josh Bentley trying to intervene. What would be the purpose? To try to continue to make Laurie look incompetent? Was he just attempting to weasel his way back into the office by siphoning information from the other employees and then making plans to try to stop the vandalism himself? That would make him look like the hero, wouldn’t it?

  Yet Younger couldn’t stop thinking that they just weren’t seeing all of the angles on Josh Bentley. Not yet. Younger watched Laurie’s careful expression and knew they were on the same page with the Josh Bentley situation.

  “I’m sorry that Mr. Bentley has been calling some of you,” Laurie told her employees. “I hope all of you realize Mr. Bentley acted completely without the authority of our corporate office when he decided to call in extra personnel and expand the schedule. At this point, I am doing my very best to mitigate the financial fallout of such a rash and inappropriate decision on his part but we may see some personnel reductions at important times like the holidays because of his bad decisions.”

  Ace looked at Jax. There were several men in the room who had rather skeptical expressions on their faces. Finally, Ace cleared his throat. “I was told corporate okayed extra funding for the additional personnel. What happened to that money?”

  “There never was any additional funding,” Laurie said flatly. “I’m here to tell you guys right now. We’re going to nip this and we’re going to do it now. And here is how.”

  They didn’t believe her. That suggested to Younger that Bentley had been engaging in a smear campaign. Great. Well, right now that didn’t matter. Younger stepped forward and spoke in a voice he knew sounded more than a little sharp. He wasn’t going to deal with their insubordination and subversive behavior. Laurie deserved better and he was going to make sure she got it.

  “I believe,” Younger said in a loud, clear voice, “that some of you, if not all of you now, have been made aware of the significance of the message board kiosk out by the exterior sidewalk.”

  There were nods, but there were also looks of confusion. Good. Younger was hoping that nobody had shared that information with Josh Bentley. That would not be helpful. It might actually give Bentley the opportunity to interfere with Younger’s plans.

  Younger continued, “Last night, at about one o’clock in the morning, an unknown person approached that message board and made changes to the plan that had been on there before.”

  “What plans?” someone called out.

  Laurie was the one to answer. “They look like football plays.”

  Ace scoffed. “Are you trying to tell us that these little brats actually follow a playbook?”

  “Yes!” Laurie snapped. She pointed a remote control at a large flat screen television hanging on one wall. Younger had never actually seen it on before, but now Laurie pulled up a picture that Younger had taken with his phone. “This is the play that was on the message board prior to one o’clock this morning.”

  Younger nodded and then waited for Laurie to cycle through the photos on the screen. “And this is the play that was put up in the early hours today.” Laurie flipped back to the other picture. Younger moved close enough to gesture with his hand to the dates in the upper right-hand corner. “I want all of you to take note of these. This is today’s date and also the date of the last attack this past Thursday.”

  “Is that why they’ve been totally quiet for the last few days?” The awe in the individual’s voice when they spoke was Younger’s first clue he and Laurie were really getting through to the employees.

  “Yes!” Laurie exclaimed and then flipped the picture again. “And look at this one. It’s going to be tonight and tomorrow night and who knows how many nights in a row!”

  “How come they took a break over the weekend?” Jax demanded to know. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  Younger watched the young man’s face and wished he knew just how loyal the guy was to Josh Bentley. Had Bentley promised Jax a promotion? Was there something else in it for the guy?

  “I think,” Laurie began in a confident voice. “That when we find the culprit, we will know exactly why he or she skipped the weekend. It will be obvious.”

  There were a lot of nods and thoughtful expressions in the room. But then they weren’t quite done with the planning yet. Laurie continued on and Younger kept his eyes on the assembled guys in the room to make absolute certain none of them were pulling out their phones to text Josh Bentley with the plans. They did not need some disgraced idiot of a former army colonel showing up attempting to be the savior just to get his job back and make Laurie Talcott look bad into the bargain.

  Laurie changed the photo again. “This is what the message board looks like right now.”

  “Wait a second,” someone in the back said as they raised their hand. “That looks the same as before!”

  “Yes, that is exactly right!” Laurie called out. “It does look exactly the same except you’ll notice the dates in the upper right-hand corner. They’re the same as the second play. That is because Younger was nice enough to take a photo of the first play and rewrite it on the board.”

  There was silence in the room. They were all staring at each other as though they were confused about what the intention was. Younger could hear them whispering. For some reason, now was the moment he happened to notice what Laurie had said about no other women in security. There were no other female employees at the Branson Landing security office other than Laurie. Younger could only imagine this was somehow because of Josh Bentley. Bentley was the sort of man you would almost expect to be gender biased.

  “Now,” Laurie called out to refocus their attention, “this means we are going to be playing the same as last time. They’re not going to understand why, but that’s all that matters. We are going to know exactly where they were the other night and that means we will know where they’ll be tonight!”

  Ace suddenly seemed to understand why this particular group of men was in the room. “This is why you’ve called us all in here! We were on duty the other night.”

  “Exactly,” Laurie confirmed. “And that means all of you can tell me where you saw someone the other night. Look at the diagram. Look at the representations of the buildings. I want each and every one of you to come up here and tell me where you saw a skateboarder that night.”

  Younger stayed in the back as everyone pushed forward toward Laurie and the picture on the flat screen television. He heard someone exclaim this was a brilliant plan. There were several whispered compliments on Laurie’s clarity of mind in coming up with this plan. And then Younger heard something that gave him pause.

  “What’s with the funny way of writing the date and the time?” Jax muttered to Ace. “I hate it when people use military time.”

  Younger frowned. It was normal to him. He still used military time a lot. It was a hard habit to break when it had been drilled into you with such ferocity from the moment you put a foot in a basic training camp. But now that Younger really thought about it, Jax was right. This definitely meant they weren’t looking for a kid of any kind, even if they hadn’t figured that out thanks to the hooded, shadowy figure from last night. But what sort of people used military time and put the day first instead of the month when they wrote out a date?

  Retirees.

  The word came to Younger and he had to press his lips into a line to keep himself from snorting out loud. Honestly. The idea of someone like Josh Bentley in league with a bunch of skateboarding flunkies from the local middle school and high school was absolutely preposterous. And that was that.

  “Younger?” The expression on Laurie’s face was worried. “I don’t like that look. What are you thinking ab
out that makes you look like that?”

  “I was just thinking about Josh Bentley and retired military personnel and people who write the time and date in military style.”

  “Is that what that is?” someone else asked.

  Younger wanted to roll his eyes, but the fact of the matter was there were a lot of people who should have known how to do that but didn’t. And that became a problem. “Does Josh Bentley have any children?”

  This question seemed ridiculous. Josh Bentley was not the sort of man that belonged anywhere near kids. The look on Laurie’s face suggested she felt the same way about it.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” Younger murmured. “But did Josh take any information from the kid who came in here the other day to claim his skateboard? Parents? Address? Phone?”

  “No,” she began. Then she frowned. “Wait a second. I feel like he did have him fill out a lost and found form. We were holding the skateboard until a parent or guardian could come and get it. That’s what you told us to do.”

  Laurie moved toward her desk and began rifling through a filing cabinet on the back wall. Finally, she came up with a single sheet of paper. She handed it to Younger and he nearly laughed out loud at the ridiculous handwriting. It looked like a first grader had attempted to learn cursive all at one time while fisting a black permanent marker in their non dominant hand.

  “Good Lord!” Younger muttered. He looked around at the other men in the room. “Let’s see. Does anyone have kids? You might have better luck deciphering this Greek than I would.”

  A man in the back tentatively waved his hand. “I’ve got a kid or two. Let me see.”

  He moved forward and Younger showed him the form. The man took a moment or two to turn his head. Then he turned the paper. At one point it was almost upside down. And finally, he nodded and seemed to figure it out. Like there was a Rosetta Stone for teenaged handwriting.

  “I think… yeah. Okay.” The man made a low noise of disgust. “Wow. This is bad. But I have to tell you. I think it’s bad on purpose.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. See this?” The man was gesturing to some letter formations that were slanted in the wrong direction. “He didn’t want us to make out that his name is Michael Hornsby. But it is. He lives in Branson West. And this is a landline.” The man started laughing and Younger wasn’t entirely certain why. Then the guy clarified. “It’s funny because the kid gave us a landline thanks to the fact that he didn’t want to give us his cell phone. Right? But if you want to get a hold of his parents, you could start there.”

  “Thank you!” Younger took the paper back and turned it upside down. “The kid put the numbers on the page upside down. Honestly?”

  “Yeah, I think he was trying to be a smartass,” the man hypothesized. “My oldest son does that crap all the time. He thinks he’s such a damned rebel, but honestly it just makes him easier to anticipate. He’s going to do his homework backwards or refuse to show his work on his math homework. One time he took a test backwards. From the last question to the first question because he says it’s easier that way.”

  Younger shrugged. “Easier, harder, I don’t care. I just want to get to the bottom of this mystery.” He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number that was listed upside down on the lost and found form. About three or four seconds after the first ring, an older sounding gentleman picked up the phone.

  “Hello, Hank Hornsby.”

  Younger nodded to Laurie to let her know that he’d gotten through. The others were staring at him, but Younger wandered away a little bit in order to get some privacy. “Hank Hornsby, my name is Younger Adair. I’d like to have a chat with you about your son Michael.”

  There was a grunt on the end of the line. “What’s that little shit done this time? I swear, if I see him I’ll kill him.”

  “When was the last time you did see him?” Younger wasn’t exactly surprised, but he was bummed out. It would have been better if poor Hank Hornsby could have yelled to the next room and found their little vandal on his couch.

  There was a mutter on the other end of the line. Hank Hornsby was evidently telling someone in the background what was going on. “Who did you say you are?”

  “Younger Adair. I’m with Rock Wolf Investigations. We are contracted to the Branson Landing Security office in order to investigate some very inappropriate behavior involving some young people and some skateboards.”

  “I told her that Michael shouldn’t be hanging out with that two-time loser,” Hornsby muttered. “I told her!”

  “Who was it that you told?”

  “My wife!” Hank Hornsby spat into the phone.

  “And who was it you told her your son should avoid?”

  “His uncle. The no good son of a bitch got tossed out of the Army and now he’s screwing with my family!”

  Younger felt his entire body stiffen in instant response. “I’m sorry, did you say the Army?”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Time was very much running out before the seven o’clock doomsday call of the skateboard mafia, but Laurie Talcott was pretty sure this appointment was more important at the moment. They were in a living room in a small house in Branson West that had probably been intended to be a vacation home and not a family residence. There were two bedrooms, both visible from the front room, and a bathroom between them. The kitchen was at the back of the house. There was a lovely smell of baked goods coming out of it, like cinnamon rolls. At least that’s what Laurie’s stomach was telling her.

  The two people in the living room were obviously not prepared for what Laurie and Younger had to tell them. They were all seated around the coffee table. The overstuffed floral print sofas and matching chairs looked as though they were sagging with age about as much as their owners were at the moment.

  “I’m sorry, you said our son was part of what?” Mr. Hornsby did not look as though he believed anything that Laurie and Younger had just said. Too bad, that had been the easy and concise version.

  Hank Hornsby had turned out to be a man in his late sixties who, with his equally aged and retired wife, had evidently had a late in life baby. Michael Hornsby was only a month or two away from his eighteenth birthday, which still made him a minor in the eyes of the law, yet also gave a court the leeway to be harder on him than they might have been if he was only fourteen or fifteen years of age.

  Laurie looked to Younger and got the you should talk look. She wasn’t entirely sure Younger was right about that, but at this point it didn’t really matter. Laurie sighed. “Your son Michael is part of what we have been referring to as the skateboard mafia. They are a group of boys, mostly—if there are girls involved we haven’t been able to identify them as such.”

  “Girls?” Mrs. Hank Hornsby—her name was Lois—looked absolutely mortified. “Do you think girls behave that way?”

  Laurie felt bad for the poor old couple. At least for now. It was possible they were just oblivious. How many parents these days really knew what their kids were up to? She worked in mall security. She knew what their kids were doing and how they were behaving and it usually didn’t reflect all that positively on parenting skills.

  Laurie gave Loise Hornsby a sympathetic nod. “These young people have been vandalizing the Branson Landing promenade for the last few months. They originally started out just whizzing past the shoppers on their skateboards and being a general nuisance. Lately, it has escalated to knocking down elderly women and trying to steal their shopping bags.”

  “No!” Lois put her hand over her heart as though she could not believe anyone would be so brazen or rude. “We taught our boy Michael better than that!”

  “Your son,” Laurie said firmly, “Michael was actually caught stealing an ice cream cone right out of someone’s hand the other evening during the fire and water show.”

  “I can believe it.” Hank Hornsby looked very irritated. He glared at his wife. “You still see that cute little boy we raised. I’m the one who sees that Hellraise
r who currently mooches off our hard work and refuses to get a job!”

  Laurie glanced at Younger. They were starting a family argument and she needed him to intervene. At least she thought that’s what needed to happen. It was a bit tough to tell right now. The couple had dissolved into an ugly argument that ended with Lois storming out of the room.

  Thankfully, Younger jumped right in. “Hank, you mentioned on the phone that your son should have avoided his uncle. That he had an uncle who was in the Army?”

  “Yes, that no good bastard,” Hank muttered.

  Hornsby pursed his lips and looked pissed off. He was a tired-looking man with a permanently tanned face and hands that made Laurie think of her grandfather. They had the same gnarled old joints and calluses and scars that had probably come from spending every moment of life working hard.

  Laurie scooted to the edge of her seat. She gazed at Hank Hornsby and tried to stay calm. Calm was good even though she wanted to shake him and demand details. “What is your brother’s name?”

  “He is not my brother,” Hank growled. His rheumy eyes were hard. “Josh is my wife’s younger brother. If you can believe that. He was always a big talker. Always!”

  “Josh.” The name seemed to confirm everything in Laurie’s mind. Sort of. It was a confirmation, but of what? Was Josh Bentley really responsible for the skateboarders pestering customers at the Landing? And why? But she needed to confirm things first. How many people named Josh were there in the world anyway? “Are you talking about Josh Bentley?”

  Hank’s expression turned wary. “Do you know him?”

  “Unfortunately, we do,” Younger rumbled. “Josh Bentley has been working with the security guards over at Branson Landing.”

  “This isn’t good,” Hank muttered. He was shaking his head. Then he sat back in his seat for a moment as though he wasn’t entirely sure he should tell them what he knew. “He was drummed out of the Army after nearly eighteen years of mooching off tax payers. Did he tell you that? Did he tell you he got a dishonorable discharge?”

 

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