The Debt Collector

by Chris Taylor

  Hannah was touched by the way he felt. She was always humbled when entrusted with such an important task, but not everyone got it like she did. Toby was special and unique and was fast becoming a valuable member of her team. Not even Christopher or Edward had been as sensitive to the needs of the dead.

  Poor Edward. Nobody deserved to die like that, alone in a dark stairwell. She wondered if Lane had found anything unusual during his routine checks. She was sure if anything untoward was happening, Bobby would be the one involved. There was something about him that set her on edge, something she didn’t trust.

  And then there was his attitude toward his uncle. The disrespect he showed Max just ate at her gut. It wasn’t right that Bobby scorned the only person who’d been willing to help him get back on his feet. According to Max, if he hadn’t helped his nephew out, the man would have ended up on the street, like Toby, or in jail…like Jacob.

  Her phone pealed in the stillness, startling her. She picked it up from the low table where she’d set her drink. Glancing at the screen, her heart skipped a beat.

  Jacob.

  It was almost as if he had a sixth sense, that he knew she’d been thinking about him. When she answered the call, her voice hitched slightly with nerves.

  “H-hello?”

  “Hannah, it’s Jacob. I hope it’s not too late to call?”

  Flustered, she glanced at her watch. A little past nine. Late for some people, but not for her. She rarely went to bed before eleven.

  “No, of course not. You’re fine. What did you find out?”

  “Not much, I’m afraid. Lane ran both names through the police database. Max didn’t even have a parking ticket. Robert’s police record was a little more interesting, but I don’t think he’s up to anything that should concern you. Certainly not murder.”

  Hannah frowned at the discovery Bobby had a police record, although she wasn’t really surprised. Max had intimated, more than once, his nephew had struggled with a drug addiction.

  “Were his arrests drug related?” she asked, curious.

  “A few. Not all.”

  Hannah’s frown deepened. “Wow, how many did he have?” she said, half-laughing.

  “I’m not sure, exactly. From what Lane said, I gather Robert Grace is well known to police.”

  “Did Lane give you any more information? What other kinds of things was Bobby charged with?”

  “Some stealing offenses, things of that nature.”

  “Like stealing a few packets of gum from the local supermarket, or something more serious?”

  “What does it matter?”

  Hannah frowned again over Jacob’s laissez faire attitude. Why was he downplaying Bobby’s crimes? And why the hell should he care what things were on the man’s record? He didn’t even know the guy. She drew in a deep breath and continued.

  “The thing is, you told me you think Bobby’s not up to anything dangerously suspicious and yet you’ve confirmed he has an extensive record. I’m just curious as to why you think Bobby’s innocent of wrongdoing here. Max showed me the insurance policy. From what you’ve told me, it’s obvious Bobby has a contempt for the law. You’ve admitted he has some convictions for dishonesty. Who’s to say he isn’t behind some elaborate fraud? Or worse?” She paused and collected her thoughts.

  “Last night, you said the whole thing sounded suspicious. Two employees die of accidental deaths within weeks of one another and one of their colleagues just happens to have an insurance policy in their name. Who’s to say there wasn’t another one in Christopher Lowrey’s name, or your brother’s? Perhaps Bobby was involved in both of their deaths and Max just hasn’t found the proof?”

  Hannah’s breath was coming fast. She was a little surprised at how quickly her thoughts had carried her away, but what if her suspicions were correct? What if Bobby was involved in something as awful as murder? And what was with Jacob? Why was he coming to Bobby’s defense? The whole thing had suddenly gotten very weird.

  * * *

  Hannah’s questions hammered into Jacob’s head, coming with relentless speed. He had to tell her. He had to give her the reason why he was certain The Bobster couldn’t be involved. For all his faults and failings, The Bobster wasn’t a murderer. Jacob would bet everything he owned on that.

  Drawing in a deep breath, he eased it out between lips that were suddenly dry. He had no way of knowing how Hannah would react to what he was about to say. He wished he could see her face, to gauge her reaction, but it was late and he was at home. He presumed she was, too.

  “Talk to me, Jacob. It’s not adding up. You know something more. Tell me.”

  The quiet insistence in her voice did him in. “All right,” he murmured. “But not over the phone. I’m afraid I’ve had one beer too many to drive. I could catch a cab and meet you somewhere in the city. Or—”

  “I’ll come over,” Hannah interrupted and then laughed a little nervously.

  Jacob could tell she was as surprised by her offer as he was. “Okay,” he said. “If you’re sure.”

  “Yes, I’m sure, Toby’s in bed. Text me your address details. Toby already told me you live somewhere near the hospital. Give me thirty minutes.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Hannah flicked her hair over her shoulder and swiped her sweaty palms down the legs of her jeans. Traffic was heavier than she’d anticipated and it had taken her over forty-five minutes to get to Jacob’s apartment. Now that she’d arrived, she couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing there. She’d refused to weigh the pros and cons on the drive over, but now that she was standing in the foyer of his building, the reasons why this wasn’t a good idea hit her like a sledgehammer.

  She had to be blind and stupid not to see that Jacob liked her. He’d kissed her at the ball and might have kissed her again at her condo the night of his birthday—if she’d let him. The fact was, she’d panicked and blurted her worries about work as a way to get the hell out of the situation before it went too far. But now she’d come to visit him in his home and listen to him reveal some deep, dark secret.

  It went beyond being polite and extending the hand of friendship to an old acquaintance. She was about to knock on his door at nearly ten o’clock at night. Only close friends did that kind of thing and she’d never describe her current relationship with Jacob that way.

  Coming to a sudden decision, she turned on her heel and took a step toward the exit. The ding of the elevator sounded behind her. A second later, she heard the doors slide apart. She was reaching for the door that led out of the building when Jacob said, “Where are you going? You only just got here.”

  She pulled up short and cursed silently. She should have known he’d be watching out for her.

  “I saw your vehicle pull up. I came down to meet you,” he said, stepping off the elevator.

  Turning to face him, she offered a tight smile. “How did you know it was me?”

  He grinned. “That’s easy. It’s the same car you drove to the Thai restaurant. A white Mazda3 Hatchback. I also noticed it parked on the curb outside your apartment complex.”

  She nodded, secretly impressed with his powers of observation. “You’ve missed your calling,” she said and then immediately regretted her words.

  Shadows chased themselves across his face. She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Jacob. I didn’t mean to remind you of…” She shrugged, feeling helpless.

  “Of everything I’ve lost?” He grimaced. “Is that what you were going to say?”

  Heat infused her cheeks, but she bravely held his gaze. “No. Yes. I mean… You’ve told me how much it meant to you to become a police officer.” Her voice hitched. “You… You would have made a good one.”

  He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I guess we’ll never know.”

  She stared at him, hating the hurt and disappointment that clouded the brilliant blue of his eyes. Eyes that were identical in color to his twin’s. But that’s where the similarity ended.

  Where Toby�
�s eyes were clear and bright and most of the time sparkled with a child-like innocence, Jacob’s were more often shadowed and troubled, concealing more than they revealed. She was startled to discover she longed for him to tell her his secrets.

  “Are you coming up?”

  His deep voice broke into her musings. Once again, her gaze found his. He eyed her solemnly. Wariness and hope warred on his face.

  “Of course,” she heard herself saying and noticed the relief that flooded his face.

  “Great,” he laughed and punched the button for the elevator.

  She lifted an eyebrow in silent query. “What, the brilliant, athletic doctor doesn’t take the stairs?”

  He sent her a droll look. “I live on the fifth floor. You look fit enough to take the stairs, but I’m going to take the easy way up. It’s been a long, hard day.”

  Hannah laughed softly and a moment later, followed him into the elevator. A nervous silence fell between them and she was glad when they arrived at their destination.

  Jacob’s apartment was modest, but nicely furnished with pieces he’d obviously selected with care. The overall color scheme was rich browns and oranges with a splash of red and yellow thrown in. An expensive-looking leather couch sat in front of a large, curved screen TV. She wondered if it was the same one he’d won at the auction. A kitchen and breakfast bar filled the rest of the small space. Several large, framed pictures were aligned neatly on the far wall. She wandered closer for a better look and was surprised to discover they were photographs of bull riders.

  “You like the rodeo?” she asked, a small smile tugging at her lips.

  Jacob looked a little embarrassed, but smiled back. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

  Hannah turned back to the photos. “Who’s JB Mauney?” she asked, pointing to the inscription below at least two of the pictures.

  Jacob moved closer until he stood beside her. He stared at the photos a moment before responding.

  “James Burton Mauney is an American professional bull rider. He’s number one in the world. He won the title in 2013 and again in 2015. It’s not even halfway through the year yet, but he looks set to win it again—and all before his thirtieth birthday.”

  He spoke with pride and passion, as if he’d played a personal part in the man’s success. Hannah was intrigued. “What got you interested in bull riding?”

  Jacob shrugged and looked down at his boots. “My dad, I guess. I was only three when he died, so I don’t really have any memory of him, but Mom used to tell us stories all the time about how Dad used to love bull riding. Apparently, he was quite competitive in his younger days, but his heart was set on being a police officer, so he didn’t have the drive required to become a professional.”

  For a moment, Jacob’s face took on a faraway look. “Mom used to tell us how Dad would sit for hours in front of the TV when the tournaments were on. He had a collection of hundreds of videos of various professional American bullriding championships, filmed over the course of more than a decade. Back then, his favorite rider was Lane Frost.”

  Hannah smiled in surprise. “I remember that name. There was a movie made about his life. He died from injuries sustained while in the bullring, didn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Jacob replied softly. “Dad named my brother Lane after him.”

  A moment of silence fell between them. Hannah broke it quietly. “Do any of you ride?”

  Jacob shook his head. “No. There was never enough money for extra things like bullriding lessons, or even going to the shows, but I like to go to the rodeo whenever it’s in town. It kind of helps me feel connected to the Dad I never knew.”

  His gaze slid to a couple of smaller framed photos that stood on a bookshelf a little further along the wall. Hannah followed his gaze. The photos showed a man standing with his hands on his narrow hips in the bullring, a cheeky grin on his lips. On his head, sat a tall, black Stetson. He looked enough like Jacob to be his father.

  “Your dad?” she asked gently.

  “Yes. Warren Black. Mom said he was about nineteen in this picture.” Jacob picked it up and looked at it. The ghost of a smile drifted across his face. “Mom gave me Dad’s hat.”

  He lifted his head and Hannah followed his gaze. Above the low bookcase was a black hat on a peg affixed to the wall. It looked identical to the one in the photo. Hannah wondered why it hadn’t been given to Lane. After all, he was the oldest son and the one named after the bull rider.

  “Mom gave it to me the day I was taken to prison,” Jacob said softly, as if reading her mind. “She thought it would help me get through it, to know that Dad was close. I was lucky that the warden let me keep it.”

  At the reminder of their shared history, Hannah took a step back. She’d spent a decade hating this man and everything that he’d done. She didn’t want to feel empathy for him, she didn’t want to let her anger go. She didn’t want to like him…and yet, she did.

  With a sudden surge of irritation, she turned away from the pictures and strode over to the breakfast bar. It was late and she hadn’t come over for this. She didn’t want to know any more about him than she did already. It was past time to remember that.

  “You were going to explain why you’re so certain Bobby Grace isn’t a threat to anyone at work.”

  Jacob’s eyebrows rose at her abrupt change in topic, but he nodded and replied. “Yes.”

  Hannah looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, she prompted him. “So?”

  With a heavy sigh, he headed over to a small bar, partially hidden behind a large potted plant. “This discussion calls for another drink. Would you like one?”

  “A beer would be great, thanks,” she replied.

  He pulled open the door of a bar fridge and came out with two bottles of beer. Twisting the top off one, he handed it to her, before heading over to the couch. Taking a healthy swallow, he leaned his head back against the soft cushion and sighed again.

  Nerves edged their way along Hannah’s spine. It was obvious whatever Jacob was about to say wasn’t going to be easy. All of a sudden, she wondered if she was ready to hear it. Then she thought about Max and Bobby and Toby and knew she had to know why Jacob had dismissed Bobby as a threat. She didn’t want to wait for another colleague to go missing or wind up dead. Her first thoughts might not be right, but something was going on at the funeral home and she needed to find out what.

  “Take a seat,” Jacob offered quietly and then added, “I promise, I won’t bite.”

  Heat crept up Hannah’s neck and spread across her cheeks. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to sit next to him. It was just that…

  She wasn’t quite sure what it was that held her back. She inched toward the couch and perched at one end.

  Jacob flashed her a knowing grin, but she didn’t smile back. Let him think what he liked. It didn’t matter to her. She was there to get answers. If it wasn’t Bobby behind the awful deaths, she needed to dig deeper. As if sensing her impatience, Jacob began to speak.

  “I went to jail for driving in a manner dangerous and causing death, less than six months after I turned eighteen. I was a high school graduate with the world at my feet. And then that night in November happened and my life was turned upside down. In the eyes of the law, I was an adult. I was taken to an adult jail.”

  He drew in a breath and then continued. “The first night I spent in jail, I cried myself to sleep. My throat was parched, my gut was tight and totally knotted up with fear. I didn’t eat the meal they offered. I could barely respond to their questions. All I could think about was how the hell I was going to spend the next two years inside.”

  Hannah’s heart clenched in sympathy, but she forced her expression to remain neutral. He was well aware she knew he’d done time in jail. For years—maybe even still—she’d been convinced two years hadn’t been enough.

  “My cellmate was another teen who went by the name of The Bobster. He towered over me and outweighed me by nearly fifty po
unds and I was no lightweight. He told me once his grandfather had been a Maori warrior and though inmates told lies about themselves all the time, it was easy to believe his story was true. Everyone on D Block was afraid of him, even the older men.

  “I don’t know why he befriended me. He never asked for anything in return. We just kind of clicked, even though we had nothing in common, apart from a shared cell. The Bobster had done it tough over the years he’d been growing up. His father had abandoned both him and his mother before The Bobster was born. His mother struggled to make ends meet. There was never enough to go round. He learned from an early age to supplement what they had.”

  “By stealing,” Hannah guessed.

  Jacob nodded. “Yes, by stealing. At first it was food and shoes and clothing, but it soon escalated to much more expensive things. By the time he was thirteen, he had a lengthy criminal record. At sixteen, he stole a motor vehicle and drove to the next town. He broke into an electrical goods store and filled the trunk with DVD players, boom boxes and TVs. He put them up on eBay and made a tidy profit.”

  “What did he do with the money?” Hannah asked, hoping he’d used it to help support his mother.

  “Somewhere along the line, he’d been introduced to drugs. By the time he was sixteen, he was a full-blown addict. Methamphetamines, mostly. It was cheaper than some of the other stuff and readily available.”

  Hannah sighed, disheartened. She should have known.

  “Eventually, the police caught up with him. It was only a matter of time. His criminal behavior had escalated to feed his drug habit. It’s a vicious cycle and unfortunately, it happens all the time. I see enough of it in the emergency department—crack heads, ice addicts, people hooked on heroin. They’re sad and desperate and many of them know they’re cutting their lives short, but they can’t stop.”