Revenge

by Debra Webb

  ‘Todd has really made me proud,’ Ramona said with a broad smile. ‘He left here after high school and drove all the way to California in that old Toyota of his. He knew what he wanted to do and he made it happen. Every dream he’d had as a kid is his now. He develops video games for Sony.’ She blinked at the tears shining in her eyes.

  ‘He sounds like an extraordinary young man.’ Jess gave her an understanding smile. ‘I know you’re proud. I hope he’s one of those smart people who kept a journal about his journey to the top. Look at Steve Jobs. Your son’s story could end up being a movie.’

  Suspicion darkened the woman’s expression. ‘I don’t think he kept a journal or a diary.’ She shook her head. ‘No. I’m sure he didn’t.’

  So much for catching her off guard with that one. Might as well get to the point. ‘Can you tell us about his relationship with Lenny Porter?’

  Her face turned as pale as a ghost’s. ‘I’m sorry. I have a terrible headache.’ She stood. ‘Migraines, you know. I’ll have to ask you to go now.’ She moved to the door. ‘Nice to have met you.’

  Jess and Lori exchanged a look. If the woman refused to talk, there was little they could do. Taking their time, they joined her at the front door.

  ‘Mrs Penney, I realize this is a sensitive subject, but we desperately need yours and Todd’s help. Two people are dead. Murdered. We believe their murders have something to do with Lenny Porter’s death.’

  ‘I don’t know anything about that and neither does my son.’

  ‘But twelve years ago your son insisted that Lenny Porter was murdered. Two of the people he claimed murdered Lenny are dead just days after Todd returned to Birmingham. I’m worried about your son, Mrs Penney. This is a very bad situation. If he refuses to talk to us, that’s only going to make him look guilty.’

  ‘I have nothing else to say to you.’

  Before she could close the door in their faces and despite knowing the answer before she brought up the subject, Jess went for broke anyway. ‘A sample of Todd’s handwriting for comparison could rule out his involvement.’

  ‘Next time you want to talk to me or my son,’ she warned, ‘call our lawyer, Fritz Talbot.’ Gone was the pleasant attitude and friendly smile. ‘That’s all I have to say.’

  The door slammed.

  Well hell. Jess supposed they would have to try for a handwriting analysis using the signature on his driver’s license. ‘Dammit.’

  ‘I guess you can’t blame her for wanting to protect her son,’ Lori said as they strode toward Jess’s Audi.

  ‘But is she protecting him or helping him commit murder?’ Jess settled behind the steering wheel of her faithful old car. No need for her detective’s lead foot now.

  Next to her, Lori snapped her seat belt into place. ‘I can’t get right with the idea that Todd would give up all he’s attained to get even with the past. Unless he’s mental.’

  ‘I’m having trouble getting past that one myself. If the motive is revenge’ – Jess started the engine – ‘why wait until you’ve made all your dreams come true to come back here and throw it all away by committing multiple murders?’

  ‘Maybe he thinks his success and money will protect him the way it protected the Five twelve years ago.’

  ‘There’s a difference between simply having money,’ Jess reminded her, ‘and having money and power. And why wait twelve years? Why not ten or eight or thirteen? What significance does that length of time carry? What happened to spur the killer into action? Every act of murder is driven by something.’

  ‘We find that something,’ Lori added, ‘and we’ll know our killer.’

  The certainty they were getting close set for Jess. She checked for oncoming traffic before pulling into the street, then glanced at Lori. ‘We may already know him.’

  The Garage, Tenth Terrace South, 6.15 P.M.

  Corlew had taken possession of his preferred stool. Lori said he could always be found here. Evidently she was correct. He’d already downed half of at least one longneck bottle of beer and appeared to be ready to knock back the rest posthaste.

  ‘You trying to drown your conscience?’ Jess asked. ‘Or is this just the fastest way to kill the memories of how badly you’ve always managed to screw over every friend who ever dared trust you?’ That was the thing about guys like Corlew. They just couldn’t play nice with that massive ego hanging around their necks like a millstone.

  ‘Jess.’ He gifted her with a big old grin. ‘Why don’t you join me? Let your hair down. You’ve turned into one of those uptight cops like Burnett and his pals.’

  Opting to let that comment go, Jess slid onto the stool next to him and waved off the bartender who immediately headed her way. The statuesque blonde was likely another reason Corlew liked this place. He liked his women tall, thin, and big-breasted. Jess had known when he directed that vast charm at her all those years ago that he’d only wanted to rattle Dan’s cage. Blond was the only one of those three requirements she had met. And she doubted that particular one was at the top of his priority list.

  But that had been a long time ago. This was different. They were all grown up and had real jobs to do. She didn’t need his crap and she damned sure wasn’t in the mood to play his games.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me about Todd Penney the first time we talked?’

  ‘I had to do a little digging of my own before I was certain that information was relevant.’ He slid his empty bottle to the far side of the counter and gave the bartender a nod. ‘Once I figured out Penney was in town, I suspected there might be a connection. That’s why I had you meet me at the cemetery. Truth is, I wasn’t sure of much until Carson got knocked outta the park.’

  ‘But you never told me Penney was in town.’ She wasn’t letting that one go. This case was too big, too important to let him off the hook.

  Corlew shrugged. ‘Am I supposed to tell you everything? I thought you were some big hotshot agent for the FBI all those years. That should have been your first question when I told you about the case.’

  If he was trying to tick her off, he had a damned good head start. ‘You also failed to mention Scott Baker’s ongoing affair.’

  Corlew looked Jess straight in the eye then. ‘I’m not a cop anymore, Jess. I’m a PI. I get paid the big bucks for two reasons.’ He stuck out his thumb. ‘Because I’m good at the job.’ The index finger came out next. ‘And I’m discreet. I don’t tell people’s secrets unless it’s to save someone’s life. The fact that Baker was keeping his pretty little high school sweetheart on the side was a threat to no one.’

  ‘Unless his wife found out and hired someone to take care of the situation.’

  Corlew laughed outright then. ‘Don’t waste your time on that avenue. Trisha Baker is scared of her own shadow. She wouldn’t change brands of toilet paper without asking Scott first. You know the kind,’ he tossed at Jess. ‘The little wife who does whatever her husband tells her and is just glad he shows up every night.’

  Jess couldn’t deny that Baker’s wife seemed to fit that stereotype. The quiet, obedient wife of the rich man. Didn’t matter. Jess had an obligation to investigate that possibility, at least until now. Carson’s murder pretty much changed everything.

  ‘I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt, Corlew,’ Jess said frankly. ‘No one else in the department seems to harbor any warm and fuzzy feelings for you. I’d prefer not to join those ranks. Don’t force my hand. I don’t play games when it comes to my cases.’

  He held her gaze for a long moment before he spoke. ‘Fair enough. Just remember one thing about the rich and powerful in this town, Jess. They will do anything to protect that power and wealth. Anything. And you are still not one of them, kid.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lakefront Trail, Bessemer, 8.30 P.M.

  Jess followed her sister back and forth in the kitchen as she cleaned up. Jess had offered to do it for her, especially since she’d gotten fed as soon as she arrived, but Lily insisted on doing it
herself.

  Lily had always been the most bullheaded, no matter what anyone thought.

  ‘I keep forgetting to stop by Wanda’s and pick up that medical history she supposedly compiled.’ Jess didn’t trust their so-called aunt as far as she could throw her. She hadn’t cared about them when they were orphaned kids – why would she now?

  Oh yeah. She’d gotten religion. Ha!

  ‘I could have Blake go by and pick it up if you’d rather not,’ Lil said, pausing with a plate in her hand. ‘Or I could.’

  Jess made a face. ‘I will not have you or Blake going to that neighborhood. You remember where she lives.’ Where they had lived for one miserable year. Putting up with their aunt’s men friends and her drug habits.

  Lil stuck the plate in the dishwasher and took Jess by the arms. ‘The Bible teaches us to forgive, Jess. Maybe she has changed her life. We can’t be judging her.’

  Jess made a rude sound. ‘Maybe you can’t but I sure can.’

  ‘Anyway.’ Lil smiled. ‘You’ve had a busy week. Don’t beat yourself up for not getting around to that or for not calling me every day or whatever. I’m just so glad to have you back home that the idea of seeing you a couple of times a week is a dream come true.’

  More guilt heaped on Jess’s shoulders. She’d stayed gone over two decades. Getting home once a year had been the goal and that hadn’t always happened.

  ‘I know. I’ve missed so much.’ She gestured toward the photos of Alice and Blake Junior adorning the fridge. ‘Your kids are all grown up and they hardly know me.’

  Lil scoffed. ‘That’s not true. I told them stories about you their whole lives. Every case you helped solve. Everything. You’re a hero to those kids.’ Lil pulled her into a hug. ‘You’re a hero to me.’

  Jess didn’t feel like a hero. She felt like a woman who’d run from the past and all the broken relationships – their parents, their aunt, Dan, Wesley. Maybe she was still running. She couldn’t get trapped and end up heartbroken if she kept running, at least in the emotional sense.

  How was that for a self-analysis? That’s what happened when she allowed her thoughts to wander too far from a case.

  When her sister finally stopped squeezing her, she asked, ‘How’re you feeling?’

  Jess listened through a lengthy monologue of how her sister hated being sick. Hated even worse that everyone treated her as if she were dying. Even her minister was coming by every day or two. She’d had to force both her kids to go off to college on schedule. Alice had been waiting all year for her freedom. Now she was terrified of being away from her mother. Even Blake Junior hadn’t wanted to go back to school. At twenty most guys couldn’t wait to get back to school and out of their parents’ home after summer vacation.

  Jess laughed. ‘The buzzards are circling, Lil,’ she teased. ‘Next thing you know, the kids’ll be sneaking home and dividing up your jewelry.’

  They both laughed for a minute . . . but the laughter faded and silence took its place.

  ‘How are you, really?’ Jess said softly, her throat aching with the struggle of restraining her emotions. Lil didn’t need anyone else treating her like she was dying.

  ‘It sucks to be me right now,’ she admitted. ‘I don’t mind all the tests and the feeling like crap. It’s the not knowing if or when it’ll end – whatever it is – that’s driving me crazy. The test results don’t come back fast enough.’

  Jess understood completely. ‘Dr Collins will figure this out. Give the old goat time.’ He would figure it out or he’d send her to someone who could. He and Jess had already had that discussion. She doubted he wanted to hear from her again anytime in the near future.

  ‘Hope so.’ Lil reached for another plate.

  ‘Is Blake handling everything okay?’ He’d been his usual self through dinner. Laughing and talking about work. Always considerate, he’d disappeared into the den to watch TV so Jess and Lil could have sister time.

  ‘You ask that every time we talk,’ Lily complained. ‘Yes, he’s fine. Keeping his chin up and mine too.’

  ‘I guess I’m getting senile,’ Jess lamented.

  They laughed and hugged some more and Jess headed home. She was tired and she needed to let the details of this case she’d learned today permeate.

  And then she needed to sleep. She couldn’t remember when she’d been so tired. Maybe last night, she mused.

  9911 Conroy Road, 10.15 P.M.

  Showered and with her comfiest nightclothes on, Jess curled up on her new-old sofa and cradled her glass of wine and stash of M&M’s. She was so glad this day was basically over. There was a long ways to go in solving this case but the pieces were slowly but surely coming together.

  If she and her team could find the right answers before anyone else died, she would be a happy camper.

  Lil looked good despite the ongoing tests and frustrating symptoms. That was another mystery Jess couldn’t wait to see solved.

  Speaking of unsolved mysteries, her unsuspecting landlord had suffered through a search of his property today. At least it was done. Maybe things would get back to normal here at least.

  She almost choked on a sip of wine. When had her life ever been normal?

  Now there was a mystery she didn’t even want to try and figure out.

  First thing tomorrow she had a meeting with the remainder of the Five – Juliette Coleman, Aaron Taylor, and Kevin O’Reilly – at least she hoped O’Reilly would be there. They hadn’t been able to locate him. But he had a voice mail waiting for him on his home, office, and cell phones. Not being able to reach the man under the circumstances had her more than a little concerned. But he had spoken to his secretary twice today – this morning and then later in the afternoon – which alleviated some of Jess’s worry and was the primary reason she didn’t have an APB out on the man.

  What she didn’t need was another victim.

  Why the hell hadn’t Corlew told her about this Lenny Porter business the first time they talked? If he had, maybe, just maybe, Elliott Carson would be alive.

  Between the discovery of a second victim, the ill-fated interview with Todd Penney’s mother, and the come-to-Jesus session with Corlew, there hadn’t been a bright spot all day. On top of all that, she’d gotten back to the office at quarter to seven to find a Post-it note from Lieutenant Prescott saying she had requested a transfer to the gang task force and Burnett had given her the go-ahead.

  Apparently he hadn’t considered it necessary to ask Jess. She was only the deputy chief of SPU for heaven’s sake.

  Jess unclenched her jaw and popped some more M&M’s into her mouth. Rather than march straight to his office, assuming he’d still been there, and demanding an explanation, she’d opted to take the night to cool off. She’d needed to check on Lily and relax. Better to approach that particular confrontation in a calm, professional manner.

  ‘Horse shit,’ she muttered.

  It wasn’t that losing Prescott was such a hardship – far from it. It was the principle of the thing. When was he going to stop lording over her as if he had to protect her from the most mundane decisions?

  Have another sip of wine, Jess. Then another wad of chocolate. Since she hadn’t worked out in weeks, she might as well work out her mouth. Dumb. If she kept ignoring her body’s needs, she’d end up going up a size or two and then Dan’s mother would call her fat the way she had Lily.

  How Katherine Burnett managed to invade her thoughts at a time like this was beyond explanation. She had never liked Jess. Thought a girl from the wrong side of town wasn’t good enough for her one and only son.

  Corlew’s words echoed right alongside those frustrating thoughts. And you are still not one of them, kid.

  She wasn’t one of them. Not really. She didn’t have the Mountain Brook address or the hefty bank account or the family history and prominence possessed by women like Gina Coleman and Sylvia Baron. Jess could name a dozen more of those in Dan’s social circle, male or female. She wasn’t one of them, and no
matter what she did, she never would be, not in their eyes. That kind of status in Birmingham was bigger than what was in your wallet. It went all the way to the bone, to the very DNA. And those who had it were accepted on a level those who didn’t never would be under any circumstances.

  Jess had a theory when it came to social acceptance and she’d pretty much lived by that principle since she was a kid. You could spend your life wishing you were one of them or you could decide you wouldn’t want to be one even if you could.

  Worked really well unless you stupidly let yourself fall in love with one of them.

  ‘That’s it,’ she scolded herself. ‘Time to get out of here.’

  A leisurely stroll around the yard would do her good. She dragged her sneakers from under the sofa and tugged them on, then marched to the fridge to stow her wine. She’d come back to that. She set the stemmed glass on the shelf and with a bump of her hip knocked the fridge door closed.

  She stopped, turned slowly back to the door, and opened it again. She stared at the object on the top shelf right in front of the yogurt she probably needed to eat pretty soon. ‘What in the world?’

  Feeling like she’d suddenly lapsed into slow motion, she watched as her hand reached inside and picked up what looked like a Chinese takeout box. She hadn’t picked up Chinese in . . . days. The box was white. No markings. Same little wire handle like the ones from her favorite takeout joint down the road.

  By the time she reached the counter, a mere two steps away, her hands were shaking. A note was written on top of the box. Are you going to fish or cut bait?

  ‘Shit.’ Her heart battered against her sternum.

  Backing up, she hit the table, almost knocked over a chair. She needed gloves. Her bag was on the floor by the sofa. She dug out a pair of gloves and her glasses. She shoved the glasses onto her face and tugged on the gloves. Ordering herself to calm down, she walked the few feet back over to the counter.

  Very carefully she opened the top of the box.

  ‘Oh . . . God.’

  Jess took a breath and looked again, just to be sure.