Twice as Fatal: A Jarvis Mann Detective Novel

by R Weir

  We arrived at the same time, and my smile cracked her tough exterior. She was dressed all in black: jeans, a T-shirt with the logo of some band I’d never heard of, and a long, smooth leather coat I’d seen her in before. We walked in together and found a booth in a quiet spot, away from any TVs, which wasn’t easy, as they hung from the ceiling nearly everywhere. The waitress stopped by and asked us for our orders. Raven only wanted ice water with lemon, while I decided on soda. They didn’t have a breakfast menu, so lunch would have to suffice. Seemed like all I did was meet people and eat. Getting on the scale probably would be revealing.

  “How are you doing?” I asked.

  “I’m good.”

  “How are things with you and Ray?”

  “Better. He knows how I feel, and I believe he is discovering his feelings too. For now, he is trying to get through each day.”

  “Still feeling the effects of the concussion?”

  “Yes. It will take time. Doctor says six months, possibly longer. He may need to sit out another year of football. I will stand by and help, no matter how long.”

  “Well, I’m glad for you too. You make a good couple.”

  She may have blushed, though with her makeup one couldn’t say for certain. Her eyes looked down as if she was embarrassed.

  “Why aren’t you in school? It’s not Christmas break yet, is it?”

  “No. I wanted to be around to help him. I’m an A-plus student so I can afford to miss some time. I’ll be back for finals and won’t miss a beat. I can read through a text book in a few hours and can almost tell you word for word what was in it.”

  I wasn’t surprised, as she seemed extremely smart. Maybe some of it would rub off on me. I could use some of it these days. Would she consult on my caseload?

  “Ray may get upset at me for telling you this, but he has been getting some texts from a woman of questionable nature.”

  “Who would this be?”

  “She calls herself Leather.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “This is why he’ll be mad, as I was worried. I know his passcode on his phone. I’ve been snooping and saw them. She’s been sending them for several days now, once or twice each day. She includes pictures of her in her leather outfit, which doesn’t leave much to the imagination; her face though, is hidden. Occasionally, there is another woman in the same picture barely clothed, both of them touching each other. Other times it was another woman doing things I’d rather not describe. It was unpleasant seeing them and made me angry.”

  There seemed a tinge of jealousy in her tone.

  “I’m aware of Leather’s outfit.”

  “So you know her?”

  “Yes, intimately. Well, as intimately as one can be without having physical relations. She is one of the ladies in his sex video. Has he been answering her back?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m worried because she says some suggestive things, a few of which are threatening.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, she uses lots of dirty talk. The F-word, P-word, C-word; slang I don’t care for. Then she says something like ‘if you don’t come see me soon, we may have to pay you a visit again.’ She also says some nasty things she would do to his mother and sister I can’t repeat.”

  “Do you have the number she is using?”

  “Yes, I wrote it down. Here it is.”

  “Damn, they were supposed to leave him alone. I thought my threat of turning over the videos would have kept them at bay.”

  “What can we do?”

  “Well, for now we can eat some food. Order something—it’s my treat.”

  I waved for Julie to come over.

  “After lunch, what will you do?”

  “I have no idea,” I replied.

  Pretty much a normal day for me.”

  Chapter 34

  Lunch was good but didn’t reveal any “a-ha” moments after sitting and chatting for ninety minutes. Raven was a sharp girl, but none of her brainpower combined with mine provided any type of breakthrough. We parted and I assured her I’d come up with something. I’m not sure she believed me, but she was pretty good at hiding her emotions. She thanked me for lunch, giving me a hug, and was off doing her thing. I decided to forgo the workout. I needed to see an old friend—or best-described as a reluctant acquaintance. I called and he was available to talk. To the west side of town I traveled after leaving Boone’s.

  December had finally started to turn colder, after a warmer than normal November. The trees were bare and the grass dormant. There was a damp chill in the air, and dark clouds were building over the foothills. I turned up the heat in the Mustang as the wind was adding to the cold. I like the feel of winter, as I do the other seasons. Adjusting to the change was challenging, but once it happened, I enjoyed everything about it.

  The Sparks Builders main office stood out on the corner of Union Street, a bastion of modern dull architecture. Brandon Sparks had been an ally from a previous case. He was tough, resourceful, a powerful construction CEO, owner and likely a crime boss. But he had owed me for the work I did to save his stepdaughter from herself. We had forged an uneasy alliance; well, uneasy for me, as I doubted with his strength and confidence anything made him uneasy. His experience and connections in both cases would be useful.

  Per usual, I had to go through Brandon’s personal assistant, Sue. She was slender and tall in her half-inch heels, with a trim body clothed in a knee-length black skirt and red blouse with enough buttons open to show some cleavage in her average-sized chest. Her hair was in a bun, which was how I’d always seen her. With her hair down, she was probably pretty spectacular. I smiled at her to convey this, but she was all business. She led me to Brandon’s office with a happy wiggle in her step that I admired all the way down the hall; a quick over–the-shoulder glance catching my glare caused a stone-cold stare to follow. Once inside, I was alone in the huge corner space looking the same as it always had, spacious and stylish enough for a king. I resisted bowing when he arrived.

  “Jarvis, to what do I owe the pleasure?” came his booming voice as he walked in from a side door.

  He reached towards me with a viselike grip, a shake which had probably crushed many a palm throughout the years. I matched it, knowing his will was stronger than mine, fingers beginning to numb.

  “Well, other than saying hi to sweet and sour Sue,” I said, “I needed to get some information about a couple of men you are possibly familiar with.”

  “Sue is the glue that holds Sparks Builders together. I couldn’t run this business without her.”

  “She appears quite controlled under her sexy business attire. Ever been tempted to make it more than business?”

  “She is quite fetching. But no, it’s strictly professional between us.”

  “Already spoken for?”

  “Possibly, although this has never stopped me before. She would have no interest in me as she plays for the other side, if I may be clichéd.”

  “Really.”

  “Yes, she likes the company of the same sex. I don’t pry into my employees’ personal lives. I could care less so long as they do their job. It’s something I’ve noticed, part of my observation skills of being able to read people. Being a detective, I’m surprised you didn’t deduce this.”

  “I have a blind spot for women, as you’re probably aware in my dealings with your step-daughter.” I took a seat in front of his desk. “You should have been a PI with your skill set. Are you reading me now?”

  “Sure. I’m reading you need a drink. I know you aren’t much of a JD fan from the way you nursed them in the past in this room. The bar is stocked with whatever you desire.”

  “Well, I already ate lunch so bottled water is good enough.”

  If he was disappointed in my selection, he didn’t show it. He pulled out a plastic container handing it to me, while he made himself his Jack Daniels with some ice. He stood tall and rugged, dressed in a gray tank top and white spandex pants, white bra
nd-new looking Nike Air’s, a sweatband covering his forehead. He’d either come from a workout or was headed to one. He swallowed down the shot of whiskey, placing the empty glass on the wet bar.

  “Care to join me while I get the heart rate up?” he stated, answering my thoughts.

  “Where do you exercise?” I asked.

  “The room next door,” he answered with a sense of pride. “I have my own gym; one of the perks of being a CEO and owner.”

  “You are in luck. I have my workout clothes out in the car,” I said.

  He picked up the phone to summon Sue. She was there in an instant. The wiggle was missing when walking quickly.

  “Sue, can you have someone get Jarvis’s workout clothes from his yellow and black Mustang. And show him to my private room where he can change.”

  Sue stepped over and I handed her the keys and summoned me to follow. Down a hall or two she led me to what appeared to be a bedroom. There were dressers, closets and a king-sized bed neatly made in crimson sheets and more pillows than I could count. Above it was a mirror for voyeuristic fun. I was going to comment on it but before speaking she told me to stay put, leaving and then returning shortly with my duffle bag. I smelled her perfume, seeing for the first time up close how pretty she was. I beamed my best sexy smile in her direction.

  “Are you going to dress me?” I asked.

  She grinned for a split second, pulling it back in again, the cold glare returning.

  “Hardly,” she answered. “I’m sure a tough man like you can handle dressing himself.”

  “Actually, it was only the undressing I needed help with,” I said with a suggestive smirk.

  She spun and walked out of the room as I’d ruffled her feathers once again.

  Once dressed, Brandon led me to his workout room. It wasn’t quite as large as his office, but was a close second. He had all the best equipment; several Nautilus machines, free weights and benches, Elliptical, exercise bikes and treadmills; even a speed and heavy bag to punch the daylights out of. There were mirrors on the walls and ceiling to watch your muscles ripple and sweat. For a personal gym it was spectacular; another perk of being a CEO and owner.

  “We’ll start here,” he said.

  He positioned the weight on the Nautilus at 200 pounds. Lying down, he slowly and evenly did presses, three sets of ten, resting a minute in between. He stood and motioned me to go next. I did the same thing, though I struggled a little bit with the last set, but I wasn’t going to let the older man best me. Everything he did, I followed up and did the same. When it came time to jog on the treadmill, I was gasping for air, while he was only lightly sweating—his breathing steady. Not only did he drink me under the table, he could exercise me under as well. Too much pizza. If I hadn’t been so tired, I’d have been impressed. I took a long swig of water and set the treadmill for walking speed.

  “Not too bad,” Brandon said. “Most can’t keep up and collapse before reaching the running part of my workout. You, at least, are still standing.”

  “Barely,” I said, still getting my breathing under control. “For a man who sits behind a desk a lot, you are in excellent shape.”

  “I may live behind my desk,” he replied. “But I’ve worked hard all my life. Nothing was given to me; I’ve had to earn it. No one will out hustle me for anything. I must stay virile to keep up with the young ladies who escort me from time to time. No one is going to best me in bed, either.”

  Brandon was running in a slow, but steady jog. I increased my pace some, but only to a faster walk. There was no way to keep up with him. To get my mind off of my exhaustion I started quizzing him for data.

  “What do you know about a Marquis Melott?”

  “Are you asking for a favor?” Brandon asked.

  “Mostly looking for information, if you know him. He is in your line of work.”

  “You mean construction?” he said with a smile.

  As usual, he was coy with his answers in case someone was listening or recording.

  “Yes. Well, at least your kind of construction.”

  “I do not know a Marquis Melott. Where does he work?”

  “He is in Greeley. Runs a club called The Hustle.”

  “My business interests cover all of Denver and south along the Front Range. I do not have any construction projects in Greeley.”

  “Any chance of asking around?” I was holding onto the rails of the treadmill to keep myself upright.

  “I may be able to see what I can find. What is in it for me?”

  “You get the pleasure of my company while you work me to the bone, while keeping me on your Christmas list and not have to send condolences to my friends.”

  “Sounds bad.”

  “It is.”

  “I’ll see what I can find. Anything else?”

  “What about Roland Langer? He runs in your construction territory. Are you two connected?”

  Brandon turned off the treadmill, stopping dead in his tracks. He obviously knew the name, but not favorably. I was relieved he’d finally stopped, as I was about to drop to the floor in a heap. I should have led with Roland’s name!

  “I see by your reaction he may be a competitor,” I said, stepping off on wobbly legs and finding a towel to dry the sweat from my face.

  “Not a rival but more like a pain in the ass,” Brandon said. “What are you mixed up with him about?”

  I explained the situation, giving details without naming any names, including my client and Dona.

  “Quite a pickle; what are your intentions?”

  “I’m not completely sure. I was hoping you would shed some light on him. I have some of the basics about Roland, what the police have gathered. A sterile file they have on him pales in what you may know, being the construction kingpin and all.”

  Brandon took his own towel, drying off, wrapping it around his neck, taking a drink from his bottle of water. You sensed the gears turning on what all he should bring to light.

  “A couple things I can tell you. He kills for the pure joy of it. He has a torture chamber in the basement of his house. Likes to inflict the pain or to watch someone else impose it. He would peel the skin off of someone a layer at a time, getting a hard-on from it.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “It gets worse. In the process of torturing he uses his hard-on to inflict sexual agony. The more distressed they are, the more pleasure he derives from it. He is a violent sex addict who can never get enough. I’ve heard stories of weekend-long orgies at his place. He’ll bring in young women off the street and screw them any way he can. If they object, they will be tortured and killed. He has a woman who is his sex slave, to quench his every desire when the mood strikes him. She has been with him for years now, but before her, there was another who didn’t last much more than a year, and one before her, and on and on. Don’t do as he pleases or get too old, he will have one last glorious show with them and they are never seen again.”

  “Sounds as if you don’t like him?” I stated.

  “No, he is a deviant pig.”

  “So you have an alliance?”

  He stretched his arms, his muscles rippling with bulging veins.

  “Occasionally you dance with the devil even when you prefer to strangle him.”

  “So why haven’t you done anything about it?”

  “Because in this line of work you let someone else do the dirty deed whenever possible. Doing it yourself has consequences, a domino-effect screwing up your business model. Make others leery of what you might do to them and soon they come after you. Believe it or not, in the construction profession there are some gentlemanly rules we follow.”

  “So no one has wanted to do the dirty work in his case?”

  “No one has been brave enough or stupid enough. Could you be?”

  I had to think about it. Right now, the mess I was in might push me to be brave and stupid enough. But I was going to need help.

  Brandon went over to a phone on the wall and made a call. Withi
n minutes, two young women strolled in carrying folding massage tables. They each set up, unpacked various items from their bags and removed their robes to reveal neither had any clothes on underneath. One walked over to Brandon and started undressing him, while the other came to me and did the same.

  “Ordered an extra pair of hands for me?” I asked.

  “No, both are normally for me. I’m in a sharing mood.”

  It felt odd being undressed with others around, blushing while the woman peeled off my pants. At least she didn’t giggle when seeing my body, paling in comparison to Brandon’s.

  “Time to work out the sore muscles,” stated Brandon, who now stood stark naked, the woman rubbing oil on his body.

  “This is marvelous, but I’m seeing someone,” I said while getting an intimate rubdown.

  “Yes, Melissa,” replied Brandon, now lying on the table on his stomach, his masseuse working his legs. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want done. At least let her rub you down to relieve the stiffness. Give us a chance to discuss what we are going to do about all of this.”

  I had little strength to deny the woman’s touch and was soon laying down, enjoying the sensation while Brandon chatted about the real-life dangers of the construction business. I certainly could get used to the CEO life!

  Chapter 35

  A workout I’d never forget and would feel in my muscles for days. I was able to leave with my virtue intact, even though I was getting massaged in some pretty intimate places. I left relaxed and flushed with desire to see Melissa. Though I called and texted her, I did not hear back until later in the evening. She was still buried in her current case and couldn’t talk right now. I hoped she wasn’t avoiding me, but I tried not to fixate on the issue. A long cold shower eased my excitement, with minimal results. Thankfully, exhaustion won out over arousal and I fell asleep, the stiffness in my body receding.

  Once I awoke mid-morning I sensed the hard workout and required three Advil to thin the blood and loosen up. Between the exercise and the beatings, my body felt older than its age. I stretched to limber up and pieced together breakfast from the nearly empty fridge and cabinets. I called Dona up first to give her the news of what we had to do today. She was hesitant, but I was able to talk her into it.