Driven Be Jack: A Jack Nolan Novel (The Cap's Place Series Book 4)

by Robert Tarrant

"Oh, the cops will be here soon enough. The difference between their visit and ours is that we're going to leave you here, they're not, they're going to take you with them."

  "What the hell are they going to arrest me for? Some story that I knocked those two around years ago? Nobody's going to prosecute me on something like that on the word of a woman who's been in the loony bin for years."

  PJ displayed a startled look as she said, "Oh, you didn't think this is about abuse and assault did you? This is about murder. Jessica's murder. The assaults and abusive behavior are only going to be a part of the story they tell as they convict you."

  Playing my role I said, "If I had to guess Mr. Bennett I'd say you'll probably be arriving on death row about the time Freeman Robinson is released. Ironic, isn't it."

  Bennett looked as if all of the air had been suddenly vacuumed from him. His shoulders slumped, his head hung, and he stared at the ground. I couldn't see his mouth move, but I could hear him muttering something unintelligible. Then as if he found new strength somewhere he raised his head and said, "No jury's ever going to convict me. There's no evidence, they never even found Jessica's body."

  PJ shot back, "There's more evidence than was necessary to convict Freeman Robinson. Amanda will testify about the abuse of her and Jessica."

  "So, I knocked them around sometimes. That's not murder."

  I'm on again. "Are you kidding, Bennett. The jury's going to hear Amanda talk about your sexual assault of Jessica. Not much of a stretch to see that she resisted once too often and you killed her."

  "I wasn't even here that night."

  PJ scoffed and said, "Prove it. And don't think that the state investigators are going to give you the pass that your buddy Chief Davies did. They'll follow up on your story, like we did, and they'll find just what we did. You have no alibi." She paused momentarily, but then drove the final nail, "Of course, when Amanda testifies that you were actually here that night, your so called alibi will be moot."

  "She can't say that, it's not true. I wasn't here."

  I added, "You probably shouldn't have pushed Amanda across the line from fear to hate."

  His cigarette dropped to the ground and he held his head in his hands. "I've done terrible things all right, but I didn't kill Jessica. I didn't kill her, I swear."

  PJ's voice softened, "Butch, they're going to convict you of Jessica's murder, I can assure you of that. The only thing you can do is try to avoid the needle. That's all you've got left."

  He gagged a couple of times as if he was going to throw up. I took a step back to get out of the line of fire. When he raised his head his beady red eyes were spilling tears. "I don't want to die. I didn't kill Jessica, I swear."

  Returning to her cop voice PJ said, "Freeman Robinson didn't kill her either, but he was going to die for it. Why shouldn't you?"

  His jaw was going up and down like a bass out of water. "I . . . I . . . I don't want to die. I don't"

  PJ turned and started back toward our car. I followed suit. Bennett slid down from the seat of the truck and followed us. "Please, please, help me. Don't leave me. Don't leave me."

  PJ turned around so quickly to face Bennett that he tried to take a step back and tripped on his flip flops, landing on his butt in the dirt. She glared down at him and said, "You were behind the lies Amanda told at trial. The statement that Jessica and Freeman weren't dating. You orchestrated the lies that convicted him. If you want our help you're going to go inside, sit down at that kitchen table of yours and write out a statement of everything you did. Every lie that was told at Robinson's trial."

  "Yeah, yeah, whatever you want." He got up from the dirt and started toward the house and then turned and said, "I don't know if I got any paper in there. Do you . . ." His question was cut short as I waved the yellow legal pad I had been holding.

  We followed Bennett into the kitchen. It was difficult to tell if anything had changed since we were here last. The sink was still full of dishes, but I had no way to ascertain if they were the same ones or a new batch. I was confident that the beer cans overflowing from the trash basket were a new crop given the rate he empties them. As if trying to prove my point, Bennett went to the refrigerator took out a beer and nearly drained it before even turning around.

  He took the seat he had occupied on our first visit and gestured across the table. "You might as well have a seat."

  PJ tossed the pad I had handed her and a pen onto the table saying, "I'm fine. Now, get started. Time is short."

  Bennett drained his beer and picked up the pen. "Now what is it you want me to write?"

  My mind was racing. We might actually save Freeman Robinson's life. If Bennett's statement is strong enough then Higginbotham can argue that Freeman Robinson was deprived of due process in a conviction based on false testimony. And if the prosecutor knew the testimony was false it would make the argument even stronger. I was confident that if Freeman Robinson got a new trial he would be acquitted. I had visions of PJ and I giving each other high fives, and maybe more, in celebration.

  Bennett looked up from the pad and laid the pen down on it with an emphasis that burst my bubble. He twisted his ferret face into a sneer and said, "What you're asking me to do is help Freeman Robinson, not me. I don't see how this helps me." He rose and took another beer from the refrigerator. This time he turned to face us as he opened it and took a long drink. He made no move to return to the chair.

  PJ said, "You have nothing else to bargain with. Your willingness to right the wrongs done to Robinson is all you have to show you're worthy of being spared the death penalty."

  Another long drink. "Maybe so, but then I think I should wait and see what I'm up against before I play my one chip." I didn't like the direction the beer was pushing him.

  PJ glared as she said, "Only one problem with that. Freeman Robinson will be executed in a few days and you won't have anything left to bargain with."

  He cocked his head to one side and said, "And the state's going to put me on trial for a crime that they already executed a man for." He rubbed his pointy chin as he continued, "I don't think so." He took another long drink and added, "No, I think I'll just shut my trap for awhile. Amanda can say what she wants. Cops can come and accuse me of whatever they want to. I'm just going to sit tight and you know what I think? I think after Freeman Robinson gets the needle, my likelihood of facing it will evaporate." He waved his hand with a flourish.

  PJ started to say something, but Bennett cut her off with, "Now you two get the hell out of here. Get off my property and don't come back. I don't need your so called help, I can take care of myself just fine."

  I retrieved the pad and pen from the table and said, "You're making a hell of a mistake," as we walked out the door. It made me feel better, but had absolutely no impact on Bennett. He stood in the doorway glaring at us and we got into the car and retreated down the driveway.

  I felt like I'd been sucker punched. One second I was elated that Butch Bennett was going to cave and the next second totally deflated. This day had turned into one hell of a roller coaster ride.

  With the exception of occasional curses at the traffic uttered by PJ, neither of us spoke on the three hour drive back to Hollywood. Both of us were completely drained. I'm sure part of it was that neither of us had a very restful night's sleep last night, but most of the dark mood hanging so thick in the car, was that we were coming to grips with the fact that we both felt that an innocent man was going to be put to death by the state and there wasn't a damn thing we could do about it.

  When PJ dropped me off at Cap's she said she'd give me a call sometime tomorrow morning. I grunted in response and trudged up the outside stairs to my apartment.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  I felt so flat Thursday night that I didn't even go downstairs. The last thing I felt like doing was making small talk with people in the bar. I made a valiant effort to drain my refrigerator of all of it's Landshark, but even failed at that. Still, my efforts were substantial enough that
I arose Friday morning with an earthquake of a headache. I downed a small handful of aspirin with the cup of coffee I consumed while taking history's longest shower. By the time I stepped from the shower my head had settled into a dull roar from the bombs bursting in air I had arisen to.

  I opted not to go near my face with a razor in my present state, dressed and headed for the kitchen for another cup of coffee. My cell phone was dancing on the table where I left it in vibrate only mode last night. I snatched it up and saw Elena. Great, this day is off to a wonderful start. I'm confident that the fact I've ignored her numerous attempts to reach me since I discovered the tracking app on my phone has not gone unnoticed. She's going to be damn upset, and I'm just not up for it today. Oh what the hell, my head is already pounding, what's a little more pain. I answered, "Hello Elena."

  "Hello Jack, did I wake you?"

  "No, I had to get up to answer the phone." My head might be pounding, but I'm still quick with the tired old jokes.

  A long pause as if she didn't get the joke and then in a measured tone she said, "I was hoping we might be able to talk today. I have some time midday and thought I could stop in for lunch and we could talk. Would that work for you?"

  I wanted to say, No, let's wait until I see if I'm going to live. There's no sense in going through the pain of telling you I think you're nuts and we are through with whatever it is we thought we had, if this hangover is going to kill me anyway. I replied, "Sure, sounds like a good idea." We might as well have this out today, hangover or not, rather than ruining another day that might otherwise be fine. Elena told me she'd see me around noon and ended the call.

  I knew I needed to put some food in my stomach, but also knew that there was next to nothing in my kitchen. There's plenty of food downstairs, but it's too early for anyone to be in the kitchen and the last thing I should do in my present state is go near sharp utensils or open-flame stoves.

  I drove to a small strip mall a couple of miles away that included, among its offerings, The Breakfast Spot. The rising bright South Florida sun didn't do my headache any good, but I managed to get there without incident. A carb heavy breakfast of hot cakes, hash browns, bacon, eggs and toast washed down with a small pot of coffee ignited hope that I might live. I drove back to Cap's and went up the outside stairs to my apartment. Two cars in the back of the parking lot alerted me to the fact that both Marge and Moe were downstairs, but I wasn't up to interacting with people just yet. At least not people I would like to count as friends in the future.

  My food coma provided me with a couple of hours of very fitful sleep sprawled across my bed, but I awoke feeling somewhat better. That was until I remembered that Elena was coming to see me. Coffee didn't appeal to me, so I retrieved a Coke from the fridge. The Coke reminded me of PJ so I checked my phone. No missed calls. Maybe she drank herself to sleep last night as well.

  It was 11:30 a.m. by the time I felt human enough to present myself downstairs. I stuck my head in the office but thankfully Marge was on the phone so a wave sufficed for my greeting. The lunch crowd had started gathering, Friday's are always good lunch crowds, but my stool was open. Renee asked me what I would like and I contemplated my situation and opted for a large glass of water. Renee stood stock-still for several seconds with her mouth gaping open, but no words escaping, until recognition lit up her face and she shook her finger at me like a lecturing mother. Finally, she turned to get my water.

  Glancing around the bar I noticed Lorenzo Mancuso's driver, Eddie Cox, sitting alone at a table near the far wall. Eddie is called a driver, but I think bodyguard would be a more appropriate title. I started to walk over to say hello and find out what brought him in when Elena came walking in the back door. She was dressed in a fitted navy blue sheath with strappy low heels. As always, she looked stunning. As she approached me her smile seemed forced. She is no doubt really mad about me ignoring her calls. Can't say that I blame her, except for the small fact that she had taken it upon herself to track me through my phone, issued stop orders on our remodeling project for no reason, and just generally taken to acting unstable. I'm confident my mad at least equals her mad.

  Stopping a couple of feet from me and, without reaching out to touch me or give me so much as a peck of the cheek, she pointed to an empty corner booth and suggested that we go there. Oh, she's mad all right. Once we were settled into the booth Elena said, "I'm really on a tight schedule today Jack, so I don't have time for lunch."

  I asked, "Would you like something to drink?"

  "No. I'm fine. Let's just talk. If that's alright?"

  I waved the approaching waitress off and said, "I think we do need to talk." I had plotted my approach to this conversation over the past couple of days, but all preparation was concealed behind the haze of my hangover. She had opened the conversation, so I thought I would just see where she was headed.

  Elena ran her tongue across her glossy lower lip and said, "I know things have been different lately, Jack. I've been trying to tell myself that it was somehow my fault. That I've been too focused on my business." I shifted in my seat and she must have taken that as an indication that I was going to say something, because she held up her hand in a stop motion. "Please Jack, let me finish."

  I nodded and Elena continued, "As I was saying, I've been blaming our problems on myself. Now I understand the truth, it's not me, it's you. My dad warned me about getting involved with you, but I didn't listen."

  I thought to myself, 'what the hell could Lorenzo Mancuso base a statement like that on?' Elena continued, her voice raising with every sentence. "I don't know exactly what you're up to Jack Nolan, but I know you're running around with another woman, or other women." The volume of her accusation drew looks from a couple of people seated nearby.

  I sought to stifle her growing fervor with, "Oh, is that what the tracking app you put on my phone told you." I could see that she was momentarily off balance, so I forged ahead, "What in the hell gives you the right to track my whereabouts, Elena? What kind of relationship is based on actions like that? I don't expect to know where you are every minute of the day and night."

  She slumped back in her seat and looked momentarily confused. I thought she was going to start crying, but her eyes remained dry and hostile. "That's right, you don't need to know where I am because I'm not running around on you." Her stature seemed to reinflate as quickly as it had collapsed as she said, "Damn, you Jack Nolan, I trusted you. I trusted you and you broke my heart. You're just a loser like every other man I've known." Again, the volume of her voice was attracting looks. I also noticed Eddie Cox shift in his seat as if he was preparing to rise.

  I lowered my voice in hopes that Elena would follow suit, "Elena, I'm not running around with anyone." I reached across the table and attempted to pat her on the arm, but she pulled away. I said, "We may not be suited for each other, but it's not because I'm seeing someone else."

  She didn't follow my lead and nearly screamed, "Add insult to injury by continuing to lie to my face. You're really something."

  Over Elena's shoulder I saw Eddie Cox stand and take a step toward us, but my view of him was immediately blocked by Moe's huge form stepping in front of Cox. Words were exchanged and I saw Moe gesture toward the table Cox had been seated at. Cox resumed his seat and Moe sat down directly across from him, blocking my view of Cox and Cox's view of us.

  Elena continued, "We're finished Jack. I trusted you, didn't listen to my dad, and I was wrong. Don't call me, I don't ever want to see you again." With that she rose, looked down at me as if I was something she had found stuck to the bottom of her shoe and added, "You're pathetic, just pathetic." She turned abruptly and strode toward the back door. The door hadn't even swung closed when Eddie Cox followed her out.

  I was frozen where I sat lost in thought. I didn't know whether I should be elated or terrified. There was no doubt I wanted the relationship to end, she's certainly not wrapped too tight, but I had hoped it could end without ending my life with it. I clearly remem
bered Lorenzo Mancuso telling me how all he wanted was for his daughter to have a chance at happiness. It's obvious that's not how the results of our relationship will be regarded. I can only hope the penalty isn't death.

  My dark thoughts were interrupted by Moe sliding into the seat Elena had vacated. "You okay, Boss?"

  I cocked my head to one side contemplating his question. "I think so, I hope so."

  He looked confused as he said, "You know she's crazy as a rabid bat. You're better off without her."

  Nodding I said, "Oh, I agree. On both counts." I drew a deep breath and added, "I just hope her father sees it the same way."

  Moe rubbed the stubble on his chin and said, "Yeah, that's the concern we've all had from the beginning." His wide brow wrinkled as if in deep concentration as he added, "After my little talk with Eddie Cox, I think that maybe other people see her for the nut she is."

  "Really. Enlighten me."

  "Well, I was watching your little drama unfold and I spotted Eddie getting up from his table and it looked like he was going to interject himself in your situation. I didn't think that you needed his interference, so I cut him off and suggested that we both just sit down and let things play out between you and Elena." Listening to Moe it occurred to me that Eddie Cox is a tough guy, but Moe can be pretty persuasive with his suggestions.

  As if reading my mind Moe grinned and shrugged his shoulders before continuing, "I said something to him like, 'don't worry about Elena, Jack's not a physical guy,' and he replied, 'I'm here to make certain Elena doesn't do something crazy.'"

  "Really, you think her dad knows she's wacko?" I asked.

  Another shrug of his shoulders. "Can't answer that, but I certainly get the impression Eddie Cox does and I doubt he would have taken it upon himself to come up here when she did if Mancuso hadn't sent him."

  I said, "That's encouraging. Maybe Mancuso won't have me killed over this after all."

  The deep rumble that passes for Moe laughing preceded, "I didn't say that. Who knows what he might do if his little daughter tells him how distraught she is over you breaking her heart."