by Linda Ladd
Fifteen minutes later, Claire and Special Agent Brady were granted entry into the rocker’s suite by the same giant bodyguard. This time, his living room looked spotless. Pristine, in fact. No empty booze bottles sitting around, no overflowing ashtrays, and no choke-provoking pall of gray smoke clinging to the ceiling. Best of all, no Candi Kisses. Claire might have actually gagged if she had to suffer the sight of another black teddy and those ridiculous fishnets.
Jonesy was sitting by himself on a long tan-and-black-striped sofa. A pot of coffee and a silver tray of flaky croissants and mini-donuts were sitting on the marble coffee table in front of him. He looked haggard and pale and dull-eyed, as if he were coming down hard off drugs and booze, but almost sober again.
“Thank you for seeing us, Mr. Jax.”
Jonesy looked up at them out of the most bloodshot eyes that Claire had ever seen. “I wasn’t born Jonesy Jax. Did you know that? My real name is James Swan.” He gave a small self-deprecatory chuckle, but one devoid of humor. “I was born in a little Arkansas town on the Rolling Fork River, believe it or not. But I grew up here at the lake.” Then he abruptly stopped talking and looked horribly sad.
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” said Brady in a suitably somber tone.
Claire didn’t think that Jonesy’s birth name fit the morose, heavily tattooed guy sitting alone on the couch. Brady was giving him his due respect. That was something she could admire about the Fed.
“Thank you. All this is just really hard for me to believe. You know, I’d just found Heather after so damn long. Years and years. I didn’t know I had any children, other than my son. Now she’s gone, just like that. And my son, I don’t even know him. I haven’t seen Junior in years. Probably never will.”
Interested, Brady leaned forward. “He is a child from your first marriage, I believe; is that correct?”
Claire glanced from one man to the other. She had not heard any mention of a son. Brady hadn’t mentioned it, and she hadn’t seen that in the file she’d read on Troy Wood. That meant Brady hadn’t filled her in completely. He’d left that little tidbit out of his briefing. Why would he do that? She placed her full attention on Jonesy and waited for his answer.
“Yes, he was a child from my first marriage, when I was still young. I lost custody of him the day his mother and I signed divorce papers. I agreed to give him up so I could get rid of that gold-digging slut I was stupid and naïve enough to elope with. I didn’t want to leave him, but I couldn’t stand to be around her anymore. Hell, I guess I wouldn’t know him if I saw him today. I suspect he’s turned out to be a rotten person. His mother’s influence was insidious. I regret not seeing him for all these years.”
Claire frowned. Brady just stared at the rock star and didn’t reply, so Claire took up the conversation.
“We think a man by the name of Troy Edward Wood may have killed your daughter. Have you ever heard that name?”
“No.” He thought about her question. “I don’t remember ever hearing that name. Are you sure that it was him?”
“Not completely certain, but the facts are pointing to him. We’re still investigating and looking into everything we can find. Right now, we want to locate Wood so we can ask him some questions. He’s been hanging around the lake for a few weeks, we think, but we can’t find him. We’re beginning to think he could be working with an accomplice. Once we locate him and get a chance to interrogate him, we can tell you more.”
“There were two of them? Two guys hurt her like that?” Jonesy’s jaw clamped shut, his face flushing dark with anger. When he spoke, his words came harshly between clenched teeth, but he remained calm. “I hope you just put that Glock of yours on his forehead and pull the trigger. Take off his head. Like he did to my poor baby.”
“I understand how you feel, sir, but that’s not going happen. We will get him and put him in jail. After that, it’s up to the jury.”
“Yeah, unless I find him first. I’ve already put out a half-a-million-dollar reward on him, dead or alive.”
Oh my God, Claire thought. That’s the worst thing that he could ever do. She glanced at Brady. To her shock, his lips were curved in a slight smile, one that faded fast, but not before she’d glimpsed it. What the hell? No way could Brady think that a family member offering a dead-or-alive reward was a good thing. She quickly jumped on that in the negative. “You need to rescind that reward, Jonesy. Right now. Believe me, we both understand how you feel. We’ve all suffered personal losses in our lives. We know you’re in a place where you feel hopeless and only want revenge. But this isn’t the way to do it. You need to pull that offer off the board. Right now.”
Oh yeah, Claire knew how he felt, all right. There had been people in her past that she’d wanted to gun down so badly that she had trembled all over with the need to exact revenge. She had killed a few them when she’d had no choice; she had never regretted it. Right now? She was a sworn law enforcement officer, and so was Brady. He needed to wipe that smirk off his face. What the hell was he thinking?
“If you put out that reward, innocent people are going to get hurt. You have to know that. We are handling this case, and we are making progress. It’s just been a matter of days. Please stay calm and don’t do anything stupid that will create havoc. Like I told you, we’ll keep you posted every step of the way, I can promise you that.”
“I’ve already done it. I contacted all the networks and news channels. The phone interviews aired on all the morning news shows fifteen minutes ago. It’s too late to stop anything now.”
Claire wanted to grab Jonesy by his throat and throttle some sense into him. Brady was looking a tad more on the serious side now, too. Claire tried again. “You don’t know what you’ve done, sir. There’s gonna be a feeding frenzy around here from the minute those interviews go on the air, both from the media and from do-gooders and bounty hunters trying to get that money.”
“I want everyone out looking for those fuckin’ animals. I want them both dead. I want to see their cold, lifeless bodies on a slab, like my daughter’s is.”
Brady nodded. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe the reward will knock something loose for our investigation and help us get the killers.”
Claire turned and stared at him. “Are you out of your mind, Brady?”
His shrug was careless, indifferent. “No, it’s just the truth. I want him, too. Now everyone in this state will be on the lookout for him.”
“Seriously? You’re okay with vigilantes out combing the woods? You have any idea what this will do to the tip lines down at the sheriff’s office?”
Suddenly Jonesy Jax stood up. “Sorry you don’t like this, Mrs. Black, but it’s already done. I just hope it works. I want them dead. I don’t care how they do it, I just hope they suffer. The bloodier, the better. Until then, I’m not sure I can step foot in her house right now, maybe I never can. Maybe I’ll sell it. I’m gonna stay here at Cedar Bend. Tell Nick I’m sorry for all the publicity blowback he’s probably gonna get about this. I can’t help that, but I am going to do everything in my power to get those two murdering sons of bitches put down.” His voice broke, and he hung his head and stifled a groan. “All I see, night and day, is what they did to my girl. My God, I called the morgue and they told me that he nailed her hands to a bannister. That he pushed something down into her body. Oh God, I can’t bear to think about it.” After that, Jonesy’s entire body shuddered.
Claire truly felt sympathy for him—she would for any father going through something like this. After her baby died in Los Angeles, she never wanted to go back there. She had only returned once, when a case had made it necessary. All she had left in southern California were nightmare memories. She doubted if Jonesy would ever step foot in Missouri again.
“I do understand how upset you are, believe me, but could we ask you a few more questions?”
“Yes. I’m sorry—I’m just havin’ a har
d time dealing with all this.”
“Of course you are. Anybody would be. We’re sorry we have to bother you when you’re going through this terrible thing.”
They all sat down. Jonesy managed to pour them all cups of coffee. Brady took a croissant on a napkin, but food was the last thing on Claire’s mind. “Tell us more about this son of yours. Where does he live at present?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure. His mother died years ago, I guess. After the divorce was final, I never saw her again. I wasn’t allowed to see my son at all. She told the judge that I was a drug addict and unfit parent. He agreed with her. And I guess I was, back then.”
Evidently he had accepted who he had been. “Has your son ever tried to contact you?”
“A few times, I think. But he was just a little kid, and I was always out on tour. I made sure that he was well taken care of in the divorce settlement. And his bitch of a mom didn’t give him any of the birthday or Christmas presents I sent to him. She sent me videos showing her burning them. So I eventually just stopped trying. I guess he did, too.”
“Do you think your son could be doing this to you out of his sense of being abandoned? Killing the daughter that you’d recently taken in his rightful place?” Brady asked him.
Claire waited. It was a damn good question. And a damn good motive. In fact, she’d been thinking along those same lines.
After a long pause, Jonesy finally answered. “I don’t know. I don’t know him from Adam. He inherited her money, and there was a lot of it to inherit, believe me. All I know is that he hasn’t tried to contact me, before or after she died. I suspect he hates me and is happy enough never to see me again. I can’t see why he’d object to Heather coming into my life. Why he would even care? Not after all this time.”
If that were true, Jonesy was being a bit obtuse. A son who thought he had been abandoned without a second thought could definitely resent a new kid showing up and receiving the royal treatment. Jealousy and resentment were both extremely strong motives for murder. “Do you happen to have a picture of him?”
“No, not a recent one. I used to have some baby pictures, you know, from when I was still with them. Others I got when he was six or seven and the paparazzi caught him out shopping with his mom in Beverly Hills, you know, that kind of thing. But years have gone by now.” He sighed, inhaled deeply, looked troubled. “You know how that is. I don’t know what happened to him. I’m afraid to know.”
And he obviously didn’t give enough of a rip to find out. They sat there a bit longer, asked him several more questions that he couldn’t answer. Claire finally gave up and reminded him not to leave the area. She also suggested again, in strong words, that he rescind the reward notices.
“What about my baby’s body? I want to give her a decent burial out in California near my estate.”
“I don’t think the medical examiner is ready to release her remains yet. I’m sorry, but I’ll let you know as soon as possible.” Claire hesitated. “We still need her official identification. Are you up to going down to the medical examiner’s office with us?”
Jonesy looked sick to his stomach. He stared down at his lap. “Yes, but can it wait until tomorrow? I’m just not ready to face that yet.”
“Of course. Would tomorrow afternoon be okay? Say around three o’clock?”
“I’ll be here waiting, don’t worry. I have nowhere else to go. I canceled the rest of my tour. I just dread seeing her, you know, like that.”
“We understand, of course. We’ll see you then. Again, we’re both very sorry for your loss. We do appreciate your cooperation at this terrible time.”
Jonesy Jax just nodded and watched them walk to the door.
The minute she and Brady stepped outside of Jonesy’s suite, the Fed once again suddenly decided he had somewhere to go in a hurry. “Sorry, Detective, but I’ve got to meet somebody. I almost forgot. I’ll call you as soon as I finish talking to him.”
“Hey, maybe I should tag along. Make sure you’re doing things on the up and up and not praising victims who offer big rewards that could end up getting innocent people killed.”
Brady didn’t react to her jibe. “No need. This is a personal matter. Nothing at all to do with the case, but something I do have to take care of today.”
“Okay, I guess.” Hell, she didn’t care where he was going if it wasn’t about the case. She needed time alone. Time to think everything through. Nothing was making much sense to her. Something about the whole thing bothered her big time, including Bob Brady showing up the way he had. Things were beginning to stick in her craw, and she could not get a hold on what was what. A son suddenly cropping up out of the blue was highly suspicious and a damn good lead. She would check into that without delay.
She expected the proverbial boom to drop down on her head at any given moment. Something bad was going to happen—maybe even something terrible. It very well could be another torture-murder of another unaware victim wandering innocently around their heretofore peaceful lake. Seemed like serials always liked to strike at least twice before they crept away. And the damn reward was going to complicate everything. Maybe she needed to ask Charlie if she could call a press conference and downplay the reward somehow. Put the brakes on it. No telling what kind of crazies half a million dollars would bring bopping into town. And the paparazzi—oh God, she’d forgotten about them already being on scene. They would have a heyday with this sordid tale. And now, this guy, this Troy Edward Wood, aka Oliver Wood, was in her sights, front and center. Brady’s file on him was a portrait of criminal insanity. He would be the kind of whacko who would do the kinds of cruel things that had been done to Heather Jax. If it was him, she wanted to bring him down in the worst way—and she was going to.
Claire and Brady rode downstairs together in the elevator, and she watched him head out the front doors as if on a mission of dire importance, one that didn’t include her but maybe should have. Maybe he wanted to go lone wolf on the case now. Maybe he wanted all the glory for the Bureau. Maybe he and his team already knew where the bad guy was and they were going to get him right now and cut the local cops out. Who knew what that guy was up to? In that instant, she realized that she really didn’t trust him, not one iota. She didn’t trust anybody she’d met while investigating this case. She needed to talk it over with Bud and Harve and Black, but especially Black. She wished to hell he hadn’t gone to New York.
She pulled out her phone to call him but it rang before she could. It was him. They were psychically connected, it seemed. Smiling, she picked up quickly. “Well, speak of the devil.”
Momentary silence. “Can’t say I like the sound of that. Am I in trouble?”
Claire only smiled. “Where are you? I need your advice on this case in the worst way. I need lots of things from you in the worst way.”
“Yeah, I know that feeling. Well, you’re in luck, darlin’. We’re in the helicopter and almost back to Cedar Bend. Ten more minutes, say, and you can give me the welcome I deserve. Miss us much?”
“What? Are you kidding me? I thought you were staying another night.”
“I wanted to get back home. I’ve grown accustomed to having you at my side. And I don’t have a good feeling about that case you’re working on. In fact, I’ve got a hell of a bad feeling about it. Especially after I saw Jonesy on the air this morning, offering that damn reward. You know what that means, right?”
“It means trouble. Coming in droves.”
“So I want to help you solve this thing, if I can, and you’ll let me. And I want to talk Jonesy out of that reward. It was a stupid decision that he made out of anger and grief. He’s going to regret it. But maybe I can make him listen to reason. He usually hears me out.”
“I need your input. There have been some new developments.”
“Good stuff? Helpful stuff?”
“Not good enough. It just increased the my
stery, as per usual in my homicides.”
“Well, Rico’s eager to get back and wrap the gift he bought you. You’re going to like it, I believe. He picked it out himself. So where are you? Home at Cedar Bend, I hope. And I really mean that.”
“I’m standing right here in the lobby. I’ll meet you upstairs.”
“Good. Love you. See you in a few minutes.”
“Love you, too.”
The line went dead and Claire clicked off. She was smiling. Couldn’t help it. They were the only two good things going on in her world at the moment. Now that Bud was injured, she didn’t like anybody or anything remotely connected with this damn case. She felt like she’d been winging it on her own, but now she was about to get some good backup. Black was a formidable forensic psychiatrist. He would get off big time reading Brady’s file and giving her his take on it. He just loved head-examining psychotic maniacs.
Play Time
After the murder of Junior’s little sissy, Junior and Lucky took time to enjoy their stay at the ultra-luxurious and comfortable Cedar Bend Lodge, where they waited for the grief show to begin. That’s where they started hearing rumors about the hot detective that the hotel’s owner had recently married. The security guards with whom Lucky had struck up some casual friendships informed him that she was also tough, a real super-cop, of sorts. The more they heard about her, the more Lucky thought she might turn out to be an interesting possibility for some additional fun and games. Lucky also discovered that she had been featured on the cover of the latest National Enquirer. Double intriguing, oh yes, sir, it sure was. Junior waited at the hotel while Lucky went out to the nearest Quick Stop and bought a copy. Once Lucky saw her wearing the yellow string bikini, he decided that all those rumors were right on target. She was as sexy as hell, and he decided he was interested in getting to know her in an anxious, erotic, and murderous sort of way.