by Amy Shannon
“Then why the hell did you just lie to me?” Jake picked up the gun, gripping it in his hand, the barrel pointed slightly downward.
“I heard you were in need of an assistant. Honest. I heard that Sully guy talking to the owner of the diner.”
“You from ‘round here?”
“No, just moved here, well a few months ago. I graduated from Oklahoma State and I was working a job in Oklahoma City, well, it was more of an internship.”
“I’m not gonna listen to your résumé. I don’t need an assistant or whatever you think I need.”
“I-I could help, Sir. Please.”
“Help me what? Do you even know what I’m working on?”
“Some murder case. That’s all I know.”
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Brennan. Ralph Brennan.”
Jake set the gun on the desk and stood up; he walked around his desk and sat down. “I don’t know why you’re here or what you think you know, but you don’t know anything about me. So, why do you reckon I need an assistant?”
“I heard that guy Sully. He was talkin’ to that owner of the diner, Janice. He was saying how you were probably gonna be overwhelmed with work, but that this case was your priority. That’s all. I took it to mean that you needed help.”
“And without listing your damned résumé, tell me how you reckon you can help me.”
He looked around the office. “No offense, sir, but everything seems to be on paper. Do you even own a smartphone?”
“Cell phone. It flips or whatever. I hardly use it. No one calls me except for clients or contacts, and sometimes I use text. I do know what a text is, ya know.”
“I didn’t mean to offend, sir. Oh,” he looked at the laptop. “The laptop, do you use it?”
“Not often, but sometimes. I prefer to write everything down. I know about computers and the digital age, I even know how to use them, and do when I haveta, but I like pen and paper. ”
“And guns, right?”
“Yes,” he grunted. “You’re still not sellin’ me on this.”
“OK, when you haveta look up somethin’, how long does it take you?”
“I see what you’re gettin’ at, but I like what I like. I don’t have a lot of money, so pay is minimal, about twenty-bucks an hour. I don’t even know you or if I can trust you. What can you do for me so I don’t haveta do it myself?”
“You don’t like using your cellphone,” he shifted in the chair. “So, I could answer phones.”
“Well, I’ll give you that.”
“I could sort your mail. I could do office stuff when you weren’t here. I could file and if you wanted, I could set up a computer system, which would make it easier to file things, and find things if you needed to look up old cases. I could do research or other things, anything you need. I can run errands, be first contact for new clients, stuff like that. Anything you need help with.”
“What about coffee?”
“Coffee?”
“Yes, how do you fix coffee?”
“Uh, put coffee in a filter, and run water through it in a machine,” he pointed to the one on the counter. “Is that the wrong answer?”
“Just making sure you weren’t into that cappa-frucino or espresso items?”
“I like black coffee. I can make the same.”
“I like coffee, black with a bit of cream, that’s it,” Jake sighed.
“And ...”
“And what?” Jake cocked an eyebrow.
“I can empty those,” he pointed to the full ashtray stand near Jake’s desk and then the one near the front door. “Looks awfully full.”
“Hmm, I’ll tell ya what.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll give you a week. You prove to me that I can trust you and you can do the work I require, then you can keep the job. Where do you live? Do you live in town?”
“I’m living in an apartment on West Main Street. I eat at the diner every morning for breakfast, and that’s when I heard that Sully guy talking to the owner. I’m sorry for lying.”
“One thing, don’t do that again. Like I said, I’ll give you a week. The office is open from eight AM to four. I live in the house behind this office. I’ve got a schedule but I expect you to be here by eight. The coffee should be made and there should always be a pot on, whether I’m here or not.”
“I understand.”
“Also, don’t wear a suit or tie. Wear somethin’ comfortable. You show up tomorrow, and I’ll make a list of your duties. If you hate it after the first day, tell me. If you like, it come back the next day. If you don’t know somethin’, never assume, just ask. I’ll see you tomorrow. Eight AM.”
“I’ll be here, sir.”
“We’ll start out as Mr. Dalton. After that, if you stay, maybe you can call me Jake. A few things you should know about me, though.”
“What’s that, sir? I mean, Mr. Dalton.”
“I like manners. It’s how I was raised. It’s how I am. I guess people say I’m set in my ways. I can adjust to change. I was a Marine. I was also a Texas Ranger, and, before you ask, law enforcement not baseball. Anyway, I am who I am. I don’t apologize for being me. I’m working on a serial murder case. I’ve got a client who is being stalked. I’ve got a few minor cases, and sometimes those people call about the status. I’ll tell you what they are.”
“I understand, sir,” he sighed.
“Good. Mr. Brennan, I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh, one more thing.”
“What’s that, sir?”
“Don’t touch my boss,” he grunted.
“Your boss?”
“My hat. My Stetson. Don’t ever touch it,” he pointed the Stetson that lay on its place on the corner of the desk.
“Oh, no sir, I wouldn’t dream of it. Were you a cowboy?”
“No, but Texas was the only place I felt at home. Now, here I am, in Clarksville. I just have a new life. A new home. Brennan, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” he stood up. “Uh, sir, were you really gonna shoot me?”
“Only if you piss me off,” he watched as Ralph headed out of the office. “Interesting. I didn’t even know I needed an assistant,” he sat down behind his desk and picked up the phone. He dialed. “Dina, it’s Jake Dalton. Sorry to bug ya, but I need someone checked out. A Ralph Brennan. He’s about twenty-five or so. Background check. Definitely. Thanks,” he hung up.
8
Jake knocked on the red door. He removed his Stetson when Aggie opened the door and smiled at him. He tipped his Stetson slightly. “Doc, I’m sorry if I’m late.”
She opened the door wider and led him into her home. “You can set your boss there,” she pointed to the table by the door. “You’re not too late. I hope everything is all right.”
“Just some young guy who thinks I need an assistant or somethin’.”
“Do you?”
“Not sure, so I figured I’d find out. I hired him on a temporary basis. I guess I don’t always know what I need ‘til someone shows me,” he set his Stetson on the table and followed her from the foyer into the living room. “Nice place ya have.”
“Uh, thanks. I didn’t redo it like you did yours, but I like it, and I picked it because of its location. I need my back against the wall, so to speak.”
“It’s really nice. I do reckon you had to have put some of your own touches here,” he smiled.
She pointed to the cream-colored sofa. “Have a seat. I like natural colors, so I did decorate it all myself. I did have some walls knocked down, I like a more open look, and upstairs is one big room. My bedroom and master bath.”
“Hmm, sounds nice. Mine fits my needs and the path to least resistance,” he laughed slightly, as he sat down.
“So, would you like some coffee? Or we can go out to the deck and cook some steaks on the grill? Or both,” she smiled. “I’ve got potatoes on the grill already.”
“Coffee sounds good. We could go out to the deck, if you wanted.”
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br /> She took his hand and led him down the hall, through the kitchen, and out to the back deck. “This yard is completely private. The only way someone could see in is if they had a drone or periscope. Take a seat. I’ll bring out the coffee,” she walked in the house, returning a few minutes later with a tray carrying two coffee mugs, creamer, and a coffee pot.
“Uh, not to sound dumb, but what’s a drone?”
“One of those flying robots or whatever,” she set the tray on the table.
“How do you know he can’t do that?” Jake sat down at the frosted glass-topped table.
“I had a special fence put up. It has somethin’ that deters that sort of thing. I don’t know everything about tech stuff, but I try to keep up, and what I don’t know, I get help. There’s a guy a few towns over that sets up tech stuff for me, and also devices that stop certain devices.”
“Oh, well, that’s good,” he sighed. “I know about it, but I don’t usually use it much. My new assistant says he knows tech stuff, at least some stuff and that I should put my files on the computer or whatever.”
“What do you think about it?”
“If he stays, and it makes it easier for him to do, that’s fine. I just like knowing where everything is.”
“You could probably use both in the office,” she poured them both a mug of coffee. “So, uh, Jake,” she smiled. “Are you a real cowboy?”
He sipped his coffee and smiled, nervously licking his lips. “Well, I’m not a born and bred cowboy. Years ago, when I joined the Rangers, I needed a place to stay that was cheap, so I lived on a cattle farm. I rented an old bunkhouse from the owners of the farm, in exchange, I did some work for them, when I wasn’t working as a Ranger. I learned how to break in a new horse, how to rope and herd cattle, how to milk cows, and even how to help breed cows and bulls. I was a good rider. Eventually, I got my own place once I could afford it, so it was closer to where I was working, but I would still go there on the weekends or vacations,” he patted his left arm. “That’s where the rope tattoo comes in,” he smiled. “So, I guess I was a cowboy. It was living there that got me comfortable with the denims, boots, and of course, my boss.”
“Of course, I think your boss suits you.”
“I always was a hat wearer, and I just love it.”
“Well, it looks very good on you,” she smiled. “Hmm, a true cowboy.”
“Uh huh, well, if you want help with the steaks, I can grill with the best of ‘em.”
“Sounds good,” she smiled, as they stood up and walked over to the grill. “I hope you like Porterhouse. I wasn’t sure, and I probably shoulda asked.”
“No, that’s fine,” he smiled, opening the grill.
She handed him the plate of two steaks, and then she focused on the potatoes she put on the grill earlier.
He dropped the steaks on the grill using the tongs, and then added extra salt and pepper. “Hope you don’t mind. I like my steaks natural. Just s ‘n p.”
“That’s perfect. It’s just how I like mine. Some drown their meat with sauces or gravies. I don’t. The potatoes are grilled but I do have butter, or sour cream, or both.”
“Butter is just fine,” he smiled, as he closed the grill.
The two of them walked back to the table, and picked up their coffee cups, as they sat down. “After supper, I can show you my files.”
“Has he ever come around here?”
“Probably, but I’m not sure. I’ve got cameras set up, and I haven’t seen him on my property. I just wonder how long he was here before he started killing these poor girls.”
“Did you get the missing persons reports yet?”
“They should be on my desk in the morning. I didn’t ask Lutz about them. He thinks I’m just some paranoid idiot.”
“What Lutz thinks doesn’t matter much to me. I hope he does his job and stays outta my way. Sully went back to Austin, but I won’t stop working on this ‘til Icarus is caught, and you’re safe.”
“Uh, I did a lot of research on forensics and profiling, but I was wondering somethin’,” she sipped her coffee.
“What’s that?” he gazed into her eyes.
“Why hasn’t he come after me? I mean, he’s killing these girls, trying to turn them into me, or a warped version of me, but he hasn’t come after me. I don’t want him to, but why hasn’t he?”
“He wants whatever he has to last with you. You were a doctor at a hospital before, and he killed those girls thinking of you, but now, he has a new focus.”
“So, I was just a desire before, and now, what?”
“He’s becoming more personal with you, even followed you here, because you’re the M.E. He can get to you without getting to you. He’s probably had contact with you, and whatever his desires are, he knows dropping these bodies are somethin’ you haveta deal with, so now, it’s more personal. He certainly has patience. I would haveta do a timeline of his actions and then run a profile. I’m only guessing right now.”
“You’re a profiler?”
“Nah, but I’ve trained with them, you know, I went to those seminars the Feds give in Quantico. I learned a lot. I also have a few contacts in the bureau of those I met while doing the training. I haven’t had to call them yet, but I may haveta. This town has been quiet and I had basic cases, but this is somethin’ that is not in the norm, especially for this town.”
“I wonder what would’ve happened if I didn’t leave.”
“You can’t really think like that. You’re here now; you’ve been here for a while. What’s done is done,” he stood up walked over to the grill and flipped the steaks. “A few more minutes,” he sat back down. “It’s just possible that you moving here saved your life.”
“Uh huh, and cost four girls their lives.”
“Doc, we can’t worry about regrets, just what we’re going to do in the future to make sure we don’t have regrets. Doc, I’m glad I met you,” he stood up.
“I’m glad I met you, and not just because I hired you,” she stood up and followed him over to the grill.
“Let’s eat,” he set the steaks on the plates, and she placed the potato next to each steak. They sat down at the table, and began to eat.
9
Jake followed Aggie into her home office, his eyes scanning the room neatly piled with boxes. He stopped when his eyes focused on a map of Texas, surrounded by the surrounding states of New Mexico, Oklahoma, Louisiana, and Arkansas. The states had several red and blue pushpins in different cities. “Interesting map,” he turned toward Aggie.
“Well, I customized it myself. I took several state maps and taped them together. I did some research on murders of young girls and those that have serial killer undertones. The red are those murders that are similar in MO or signature, and the blue pins are murders of young girls, that may or may not be related. I’m not law enforcement so I can’t access databases or make calls.”
“Then how did you get this information, the ones in red?” he turned toward the map on the wall.
“I know the M.E. in Austin, so I called her about the cases. She knows I’m working on the bodies here.”
“Oh,” he sighed. “Does she know you’re working with me?”
“You know Dr. Billings?”
“She’s my ex-wife,” he sighed. “Never took my name. Shoulda been a giveaway. I didn’t know she was still working there. Anyway, you may not wanna mention me to her. I wish I didn’t know her,” he grunted.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was married. I mean, I know she’s dating the former Police Chief there, but I didn’t know she was ..,” she stopped. “Oh, right. Well, if you don’t wanna talk about that, I understand.”
“Are you and Elaine friends?”
“I wouldn’t say friends, more like colleagues. That’s all. I don’t know her personally, just professionally. I didn’t mention that I hired you to help me or that you and I were, uh, friends.”
“Well, good, that’s our business. If you haveta deal with her, that�
��s fine, but I can’t. I can look at your files,” he outlined the scar on his cheek with his finger.
“Jake, I’m sorry,” she walked over to him and put her hand on his. She pulled his hand away from his face, and leaned up and kissed the scar on his cheek. “She lost. That’s it. You’re somethin’ else, something wonderful.”
He took a step back. “Uh, thanks. I’m fine, really,” he cleared his throat. She’s too close and now, she knows Elaine. I can just imagine what she’s thinking. “You said you had letters from your stalker?”
“Oh, right,” she sighed, knowing she was probably a little too close to Jake Dalton. She now knows who hurt him, but she still didn’t know why he was really here. Why he moved from a grand career in the Texas Rangers to a small town, but major private security and investigator. In time, she hoped. “They’re in this box here,” she walked over to the box, lifting the lid.
“Can I take this with me?”
“Uh, if you want,” she sighed. “Jake, did I do somethin’ wrong?”
“No, it’s just that it’s getting late, and I should go. I’ve a busy day tomorrow.”
“You said you wanted to do a timeline, right?”
“If you could stop by the agency tomorrow, that would be fine,” he picked up the box. “I’ll be there all day. I haveta see how this new assistant works out,” he headed out of the office, setting the box on the floor, so he could put on his jacket and Stetson.
Aggie followed him out of the office and into the entryway. “Jake, I’m sorry about mentioning Dr. Billings. If I had known ..,” her voice trailed off.
“Don’t think you haveta censor yourself, you don’t. You didn’t know and even if you did, mentioning it was important. We weren’t married that long, uh about eight years. Doc, I’m sorry, I do haveta go,” he tipped his hat to her, grabbed the box, and headed out of his house toward his truck, parked in her driveway. He set the box in the bed of the truck, and his eyes scanned the street, searching for shadows or one in particular shadow. The shadow that never lets go. He’s only gonna let go when he kills her or is dead himself. He got in his truck, and looked up at the house before he pulled out.