Urban Renewal (Urban Elite Book 1)

by Suzanne Steele

  I make a three-point turn out of the lot and prepare to listen to what her hustle is this time. She’s fascinated by crime. She was top of her class in journalism but refuses to get a job with the local paper. She insists she wants to be a trailblazer and start her own crime blog. And hell, it might actually work since she has a father with more money than sense who supports her. In fact, she just might come in handy for what I have in mind.

  “How’d you know I was back there?” she asks, reaching over and helping herself to my coffee. I like the kid, she’s like the daughter I never had -- or haven’t had yet, anyway.

  “I smelled your sandalwood soap.”

  “Why, quite the detective, aren’t you, Jack?”

  “I’m damn good at what I do,” I admit.

  “Well, I am, too, and I smell a story. Hey, I saw you up at the old motel earlier. The lady you met had one of those real estate signs on the side of her car. Fess up – you bought the place, didn’t you?”

  “You are good at what you do. Yeah, God help me, I bought that place. You’re looking at Louisville’s newest retiree,” I say glibly. I take a moment to look over at this girl who is all tomboy. She wormed her way into my life about six months ago. She’s got the makings of a good reporter and although she doesn’t know it yet, she’s perfect for what I have up my sleeve.

  She scowls abruptly as she stares at me. “What the hell are you doing buying a motel? Jack…why are you looking at me like that? You look like you know something I don’t. Spill it.”

  “I may have a proposition for you, Max.”

  “I’m not that kind of girl, Jack,” she says with perfect deadpan delivery.

  “And you’re sure as hell not my kind of girl, Max.”

  “Well, thanks, I figured,” she says as a smirk tilts the corners of her mouth. “I already know your type: blonde hair, blue eyes, legs that go on forever. I see the way you look at that partner of yours.”

  “I’m just saying, I look at you like a kid sister. And I bought the motel as the headquarters for a private investigation firm I’m starting. Now, answer the question. What are you doing in my car?”

  “This isn’t a car, dude. This is waaaay beyond a car. This is a tricked out Cadillac SUV,” she says dreamily, running her hand over the dashboard reverently. I shake my head and tell her to continue. I’m curious about her thoughts. This girl has a sixth sense when it comes to sniffing out news and I learned long ago to take her gut instincts seriously.

  “I dunno, all these women coming up missing, Jack, I think they’re connected. I guess we’ll know more when bodies start piling up. You’ve either got a collector or a killer on your hands, and I want to help crack the case. You know, you can include me now that you aren’t on the force anymore. All that bureaucratic bullshit of not being able to have a ride-along. I’m perfect for whatever it is you have in mind, plus your girlfriend likes me so she won’t be jealous, being as how I’m not your type.”

  “What exactly are you trying to talk me into?”

  “Hire me! Let’s do a crime blog together.”

  “I don’t have time to friggin’ blog, Max, I’m going to be busy training my team and catching criminals.”

  “That’s my point. Include me in the case investigations and I’ll do the blog.”

  I hide a grin as I check my side mirror for a lane change. I figure I’ll give her a couple more minutes to sweat. Her voice becomes a background noise that I’m still attentive to as I scan the sidewalks and storefronts, taking in my surroundings purely out of habit.

  Looks like the usual nighttime foot traffic. A man in a hoodie shuffles down the street pushing a grocery cart that’s filled to overflowing, probably with everything he owns. Soon it will be so cold they’ll have to hit the homeless shelter at night, but for now the nights are still warm enough for them to huddle in a cardboard box, in an alley, or under the overpass by the river.

  “How in the hell do you manage to get all this inside information you come up with?” I have to admit I’m impressed with Max. She has the ability to find out things only the cops in the precinct should know. Some people are good journalists through the courses they take, and then there are those like Max who are born with an innate ability to investigate. She has both things going for her: the college courses she was top of her class in and a relentless curiosity that always gets her to the bottom of any story she pursues.

  With her raw skills she could have been a cop, but her heart is in journalism and I think I can put her talents to good use. With me taking her under my wing and honing those abilities, she’ll be the best in the biz. If I don’t take her under my wing, she could get herself killed out here on these streets alone. I feel a sense of obligation to protect her. She’s a good kid and I don’t want to see her get hurt or, worse yet, killed -- plus Valerie likes her.

  “The streets have eyes and ears and I’m curious by nature. You know what they say, inquiring minds want to know? I come out and turn over every rock I can find until I come up with the story, then I rinse and repeat until I get the answers.”

  I hand her the coffee as I consider my next words. She takes a drink and hands it back to me, meeting my gaze. “Back to the proposition I’ve got for you,” I say. “Come work for me.”

  “Now you’re talkin’! Doing what?”

  “Well, you know I bought the old motel on West Jefferson. I’m going into work as a private investigator and I’m going to bring some young people along with me. Raise ‘em right so they know what the hell they’re doing.”

  “Why do you need the whole motel? You gonna to train private investigator babies?” She laughs at her own joke, slapping her knee.

  “Actually, yes, I am.” That gets her quiet real quick, then a grin spreads across her face and she bounces in her seat.

  “Hell, yeah, I’m in. Are you gonna put me up in a room too?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Fuck, yeah, I’m in. Hot damn, this is just the break I’ve been looking for!” Her excitement boosts my confidence, as crazy as that sounds. Her zeal is infectious and I feel good about what I’ve done buying the downtown motel.

  In the beginning stages of any business venture it’s important to surround yourself with people who believe in you. As weathered as I am, I still need a confidence boost every now and then. Valerie and Max have both given me that today. Any of the guys at the station would have laughed and said I was crazy for taking on a babysitting job of training private investigators. It is crazy—but it’s doable. I’m going to make it work and these girls are going to help me. There’s nothing I love more than confident, capable women and Valerie and Max both fit the bill.

  “Well, young lady, then let’s go show you your new home.”

  Chapter Five

  His Conquest

  I push the cart with the wobbly wheel over to the cellar door. I like this place; the cellar door makes it easy to get in and out, and the tall stone wall around the yard blocks the view from prying eyes. Though the wall is missing some stones and there is evidence of gradual decay, it still serves its purpose. It keeps me hidden from nosy neighbors. Even though most everyone in this area minds their own business, I can’t take any chances. I will reveal myself at a time of my choosing. I’ll be the reason people double check the locks on their doors and windows.

  Getting into the whore’s apartment was easy enough since it was on the bottom floor. I just cut the screen and broke the window. Wrapping my fist in cloth helped to mute the sound of breaking glass somewhat, and kept me from cutting my hand. I pride myself on containing my DNA and not leaving a shred of trace evidence behind.

  It always amazes me how people gain a false sense of security when they enter the threshold of their home. I’m certain she takes every precaution when she’s hustling in the high end hotels, but once her feet graced the doorway of home her guard immediately went down. She went to sleep in peace, never expecting to be abducted during the night—her sleep deep enough to never hear the win
dow when it shattered. Drugging her as she slept was even easier—one quick stab in the neck with a drug-filled syringe works every time. Pushing her in a grocery cart for five blocks, now that was a different story. It had been easy to throw her blanket over her with odds and ends of brick-a-brack from her apartment, giving the impression I was just another homeless street person pushing all their worldly possessions through the city streets in a rickety old grocery cart. Society’s eyes are blinded to the homeless, their misery of no more interest to the average upstanding citizen than a streetlamp or a sign in a storefront window.

  I had pushed her down the street in the grocery cart that had been conveniently located in the back alley of her apartment. However, the cart, no matter how fortuitously placed, had been a pain in the ass to deal with because of a wobbly wheel that resisted every push, pull, and turn along the way. There had come a point in the five-block walk when I wondered if I would have to move to the front of it and pull it along rather than pushing it from behind. The last block or so had been the hardest.

  During the walk I reminisced about our time together in her apartment. She had looked so innocent sleeping in her bed, like an Asian sleeping beauty, rather than the dirty whore that she is.

  And now my puzzle is almost complete. It will be interesting to see if the authorities can piece it together. Soon I’ll have the respect and acknowledgment I deserve—the media will see to that. They know the general public loves a serial killer. They just can’t get enough of that brand of depravity. They read about them, watch them on TV, hell some of the incompetent ones that get caught even have groupies that write to them in prison.

  I don’t plan on getting caught. I’m too smart to get caught. I just want to play. Now it’s just a matter of finding the right playmate, someone who’s as intelligent as I am. It will have to be a worthy opponent for things to play out the right way. As exciting as it is to abduct and kill, the real fun will begin when the other players become involved. It will be a match of wits, an epic battle of good vs. evil. That’s when I’m at my best, when the game becomes as much about the mental sparring as the physical.

  Chapter Six

  Jack

  I can’t help but smile as Max jumps up and down like a kid on Christmas morning. The motel is impressive. I’ve arranged for each room to be laid out with furniture and top of the line computer systems, but she wants to have her own belongings moved in, and that’s fine. I’m sure she won’t refuse the computer I’m having set up in here, though.

  It’s a brave, new world for investigators, with the internet playing almost as intricate a role in an investigation as the investigators themselves. Using cutting edge technology will have a direct impact on our mission to clean up the streets of Louisville. The furniture and computers will be delivered tomorrow.

  I’ve hired an elite security team that I’ve worked with in the past to set up an impenetrable security system. Though they work under the guise of being just another private investigation firm, they’re actually mercenaries. The Undercover Elite team is the best of the best and is led by my friend, Cash. We’ve agreed to an informal partnership between his team and mine, so it makes sense that I name my new business entity Urban Elite. We’ll operate independently with no formal affiliation with Cash and his crew, but we’ll work closely together, occasionally trading services and employees when a specific skill set or training expertise is called for.

  “This is going to be off the chain cool!” Max’s excited yammering cuts through my thoughts.

  “Max, I think you’d do well establishing a crime blog for my Urban Elite investigative team. Our own social media forum so we can control what gets published and not be at the mercy of the press. You’re a good writer and you’re tenacious – exactly what I’m looking for. It's a paid position, of course.”

  “Yeah, that’s cool. My dad will be happy about that, but if I know him he’ll still be supporting me. Since Mom died of breast cancer he hangs on to me pretty tight.”

  I can feel the familiar ache that comes whenever I think about the loss of my parents. Nothing could have prepared me for the call I got at work, another cop informing me there had been an accident. It was no fucking accident -- a drunk driver swerved over into their lane, hitting them head-on. No amount of money could ever make up for the loss. My parents did leave me well off, though, and I like to think that if I do something with the money to help others, my parents would be proud.

  Even with the passage of time, and even though they’re not physically with me, I feel their love and support every day of my life. Doesn’t make me miss them any less, though.

  With some effort, I shake myself back into the present and decide I’d rather bask in Max’s excitement rather than dwell on the heartbreak of the past.

  “This is going to be so fuckin’ awesome, Jack!”

  “You know, you really need to work on the potty mouth.”

  “Potty mouth?”

  “Yes, Max, you’re going to have to work on your professionalism. You’ll be interacting with some heavy hitters in this job. You only make one first impression, so make it count.”

  “Well, I’m not going to change how I dress.”

  “You can keep the tomboy look, but at least try to talk like a lady.”

  “Okay, it’s a deal.” She holds out her hand for me to shake and I can’t help but smile. The poor kid has been trying to work for me for the last six months and she finally prevailed. I’m flattered that she’s this excited about it. She’s given me every reason under the sun why she’d be an asset to me and, really, you can only resist Max so long before she wears you down.

  She’s one of a kind, that’s for sure. That same relentless drive will be the driving force of our crime blog. I have the money to back it up and I’m counting on my relationship with Agent Turner and the cops I’ve worked with for years. With those connections, we’ll be among the first to reach a crime scene, which will give us an edge over the local media. They listen to their police scanners but we’ll get the call first-hand.

  I’m not naïve, though, and I know Max’s new job with me could mean professional jealousy from some local media pros. Journalism is very competitive and when the local reporters see they have outside competition, things could get real nasty real quick. But I’ll be there for the kid. I’ve got big shoulders to carry the load for her and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.

  Chapter Seven

  His Trinity

  “Three skanky whores, all tied up in a row, now it’s up to me to decide, which will be the first to go?”

  It’s not like they’re going to have much to say about it, considering they’re all mildly sedated. Now that, that takes expertise, knowing just how much sedative will achieve their compliance without numbing them to the point that it ruins my fun. I can’t risk them fighting me, there’s still far too much left to do. These bitches have yet to serve their true purpose, but I am here to make sure they do. Really, I couldn’t do it without them.

  “So, in the time we have left together,” I begin serenely, noting that I now have the full, if a little groggy, attention of my new little China doll, who has started to rally after the heavy sedative I gave her earlier this evening. I direct my question to her as I hold my knife in front of her face like it’s a microphone that I’m using to conduct a whore-on-the-street interview. “I wonder…what are your thoughts on the meaning of life? Anything? Hmm? No? Tell me, then, did you ever think that it would come down to this, the four of us here, together, pondering all of life’s inequities?”

  When I’m met with only her glazed stare, I lower the knife to my side and smile. “You see, I knew. I’ve always known. I’m sure you’ve figured out truth by now, haven’t you, that I’m unlike anyone you’ve ever met. I’m special. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that when I was growing up; I’ve always known. It’s just going to take a little more time to make sure others know to take me seriously. So good of you to help.”

  Her eyes narrow
at me, a faint frown the only indication that she’s catching some of what I’m saying. “It’s such a shame we won’t have more time together. I would so enjoy breaking the spirit I see shining in your eyes. As it is,” I say on a sigh, “I’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.”

  I waste no time plunging the knife into the China doll’s chest. My pleasure comes from knowing just where to make my mark, depending on how fast or slow I want death to come. I savor a sublime jolt of adrenaline as I slowly force the knife between her third and fourth rib, ultimately piercing her heart. I push the knife in slowly to give myself a few more precious seconds to savor the lightning-quick series of emotions that pass over her features: horror, panic, pain, disbelief, acceptance and, finally, the emptiness that is so beguiling. It’s a good death, I suppose, as deaths go.

  I step away and repeat the process two more times, giving each woman her moment alone with me before her eyes glaze over and the light is snuffed out.

  Then the real work begins.

  I toss the knife in the porcelain, lime-stained sink. It’s going to take something much stronger than a knife to do what I have planned. I walk over to the closet and put on a clear raincoat I use for just this purpose. I lift my welder’s shield off the shelf and put it on, pulling the plastic shield down over my face. Things are getting ready to get very messy.

  I reach down and pick up my circular saw and set it on the counter. I then pull the medical cart over that holds the rest of the tools and medical instruments I’ll need. Surgical saws in different sizes are lined up in a tidy row, ready to do my bloody, savage will. This is my game; I’m in control and I like the fact that I’m getting ready to fuck up more lives than just those of these three whores.

  Since the China doll was the first to die, she should be the first to receive my attention. I release the restraints and her lifeless form flops over into my arms like a beautiful, bloody ragdoll. I pick her up, laying her down on the stainless steel operating table. I special ordered it from a medical vendor. Other smaller items I obtained from the local hospital – it’s amazing what you can walk away with when it’s a busy night in the E.R. and you know how to blend right in. Anything can be accomplished with the right planning, even what many would deem impossible.