Two Ways to Die: A Java Jarvis Thriller

by Erin Wade

  “Please, Java, don’t make me beg.”

  Java trailed long fingers down Kat’s side and slipped her hand between Kat’s legs. “Yesss,” Kat hissed. “A thousand times yes!”

  ##

  Much later they lay wrapped in each other’s arms. “That was incredible,” Kat gasped for air. “After all these years you still turn me into a simpering, begging wench.”

  “And I’m still your slave,” Java laughed softly. “You are bewitching and addictive. I still can’t get enough of you.”

  “Good,” Kat snuggled in closer. “Because I’m not through with you yet.” She rolled Java onto her back. “Prepare to beg, darling.”

  ##

  “I’ll get into the club around four,” Kat handed Java a cup of coffee and sat down on the bed beside her. “I want to run through a couple of new songs with the band.”

  “Umm, I wish I could stay with you until then,” Java looked longingly at the brunette, “but I need to be there before the others to make sure things get off to a smooth start.”

  “I know, baby.” Kat cooed. “It’s best we arrive at different times anyway. If the agency knew we were involved with one another, they wouldn’t let us work together and we’d probably be fired. I’m surprised they assign me with you as often as they do.”

  “I always request you,” Java grinned. “I tell them you’re hard as hell to work with, but the best agent I’ve ever met. They’re all about results so they don’t care. The way you treat me convinces them you hate me.”

  “Oh, but they don’t know how phenomenal the makeup sex is,” Kat laughed.

  CHAPTER 35

  Java carried her coffee cup into her office and turned on the morning news. Beau was bearing the brunt of the public’s outrage over The Basher’s three-day butchering spree.

  She wished her team didn’t have to remain undercover. Poor Beau needed some backup and wasn’t getting any from his superiors.

  “We’ve heard the church is involved in this,” one of the news reporters screamed as she shoved her microphone in front of Beau’s face.

  Beau’s, “No comment.” Enraged her.

  “The public has a right to know,” the reporter persisted. “Is this some religions heretic killing African Americans and mixed-race people?” She demanded.

  Great, Java thought, just what we need, inciting panic in the black community.

  “Is it true that voodoo dolls are left on each body?” The reporter yelled.

  Beau ignored her question and Java wondered who had leaked that information to the reporter.

  “Why aren’t you calling in the FBI on this case? Is it because the victims are black or of mixed race?” The reporter demanded. “They’re not important enough to engage the services of the FBI?”

  Java grimaced sympathizing with Beau as he clenched his teeth. He backed away from the reporters and entered the police station.

  The reporter turned to face her news camera with the police station in the background. “African Americans and mixed-race people are arming themselves,” she spewed. “Realizing they can’t count on the police to protect them; they’re hiring guards to guard their houses and neighborhoods.”

  Barbie entered with two cups of coffee. “I thought you might be ready for a fresh cup,” she smiled at Java.

  “Thanks Barbie. You thought right.” Java grinned.

  “The Basher is all over the news this morning,” Barbie noted. “I’m glad Beau’s fielding their questions. I’d hate to be in his shoes.”

  “If the news media continues to fuel the flames everyone with an ounce of African blood will be armed and dangerous.” Java fretted. “All we need is some vigilante group hunting The Basher and shooting at each other.”

  Java’s phone rang and Director Karen Pierce’s face appeared on the screen. “Java,” she answered putting the call on the speaker so Barbie could hear.

  “Java, I want you and your entire team in the headquarters briefing room in an hour. I’ll call Beau. We’ve got to get ahead of this killer. He’s making law enforcement the laughingstock of Louisiana.”

  “We’ll be there,” Java assured her raising her eyebrows at Barbie.

  “I’ll inform everyone,” Barbie headed for the doorway. “Oh, um Kat’s the only one not here.”

  “I’ll call her and have her meet us there,” Java said, pushing the button on her phone. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot. We can ride to headquarters together.”

  ##

  Kat and Beau’s cars were already parked behind the FBI field office when the rest of the team arrived. Penny pulled up behind them. They were silent as they filed into the meeting room.

  “Good, you’re all here,” Karen breezed into the room and sat down at the end of the oval table hosting her task force. “Talk to me Java,” Karen barked.

  Java took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Karen, I wish I had something for you. Beau’s department has interrogated every criminal who used an ax but there are no solid suspects.”

  “I’ve handled so many blood samples, I’m beginning to feel like a vampire,” Penny added, “and I’ve found nothing but the blood of our victims. I can say for certain our killer is left-handed.”

  “Well that narrows our search down to eight percent of the population. What about you Kat?” Karen demanded. “Profile.”

  Kat thought for a moment then shared her thoughts. “He’s strong. He easily lifts a grown man onto a bed. He’s smart. He never leaves a shred of evidence. He has no remorse. He kills, showers and leaves the house with no blood on him.

  “He is beginning to taunt us with his Bible verses, so he believes he’s smarter than anyone in law enforcement.”

  “And so far, he’s been correct,” Barbie blurted.

  Kat glared at Barbie and continued. “The more he kills, the more he wants to kill. He loves killing. He uses his abhorrence of mixed race as a justification for the carnage.

  “We believe his mode of transportation to the murder scenes is the railroad. All the murders have occurred within two miles of the train stations.

  “He’s a narcissist who believes he is doing God’s work and that God will protect him. We need to be looking for someone who is uber religious.”

  “So, who fits your profile?” Karen asked.

  “No one we’ve encountered,” Kat responded.

  “You killed Raymond Latour,” Karen swung her gaze toward Java. “How did that go down?”

  “I believe Raymond intended to kill Penny,” Java reasoned. “He didn’t count on me being there. He called Penny in the early hours of the morning pretending to be with the Crowley Police Department. He encouraged her to hurry so she would get to the crime scene before looky-loos discovered it.

  “The look of disbelief on his face when he turned the corner and saw me was almost laughable. He hesitated only seconds before firing at me. I think he believed he could kill Penny and then Beau and the authorities would drop the manhunt. I believe he is the perpetrator of the crimes that have been committed while his father has been in jail.”

  “But there was another massacre after you killed him.” Karen noted.

  “I know,” Java huffed. “Which means we have at least three killers involved.”

  Java moved to the electronic white board. There was no teasing or cajoling of one another as the agents silently watched their leader write on the board.

  “I’ve done this a dozen times,” she said, “but let’s list anyone we might remotely consider a suspect.”

  “That spikey-haired preacher at Sanctity Church,” Barbie suggested, “Driscol Ames.”

  “Budro’s buddies,” Chris offered. “Lonnie and Albert.”

  “Déjà vu LaBlanc,” Kat hissed.

  “Déjà?” Java gasped. “Why would you suspect Déjà? She’s a woman and the best CI we have on the streets.”

  “A six-foot-tall woman,” Kat shrugged. “She’s certainly capable of lifting a grown man. She has voodoo dolls and the buttons on the
dolls at the murder scene came from her place. Just because she’s your criminal informant doesn’t mean she’s not a criminal.”

  “Kally also fits that description,” Java barked.

  “Kally’s crippled,” Kat pointed out. “Déjà vu is able bodied. I’m putting my money on the witch doctor.”

  “No!” Java argued. “No way Déjà is a killer and every tourist trap in Orleans carries that same doll and the buttons. We all know they’re made in China.”

  “You’re just swayed by her big ti—”

  “Kat’s right,” Karen interrupted. “Déjà vu would be physically able to commit the crimes.”

  “I think we should put Lindy Rochelle on our list,” Java countered.

  “Lindy!” Kat snorted. “She’s a pussycat. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “She has the physique to commit the crimes,” Java insisted. “She’s as butch as they come, stout, and muscled up and we should add your admirer Jody Schooley.”

  “Humph,” Kat huffed. “Schooley is certainly a suspect on my list.”

  “Ladies,” Karen snapped. “Is this a pissing contest? If so, you need to take it outside.”

  Java shrugged and wrote the three names on the list.”

  “Pierre and Tiny Roche are up to something,” Chris added.

  “The Roach Brothers,” Java smirked. “They’re up to no good for sure, but slaughter seems a little excessive even for them.

  “Anyone else?” Java began to read down the list of names.

  Reverend Driscol Ames

  Lonnie Raine

  Albert Tremont

  Déjà vu LaBlanc

  Lindy Rochelle

  Jody Schooley

  Tiny Roche

  Pierre Roche

  “Eight suspects,” Karen frowned. “As always I want you working in pairs. Each pair take four suspects and concentrate on them this week. We’ll meet back here Friday and see what you’ve shaken loose.”

  “Chris you and Barbie work together,” Java directed. “Find out everything you can about Albert Tremont, Lonnie Raine, Tiny Roche and Pierre Roche. Obviously, we can discount anyone that is right-handed.

  “Kat and I will concentrate on Déjà, Reverend Driscol Ames, Lindy Rochelle and Jody Schooley. Beau, please provide us all the background information your department has on the eight suspects?”

  “Bring me something by Friday,” Karen reiterated. “We need a viable suspect.”

  Java cleared the white board and looked around for Kat but the brunette had left.

  CHAPTER 36

  Java groaned when she saw Kat’s Benz parked next to Déjà’s black Cadillac on the restaurant parking lot. She steeled herself for the inevitable confrontation between the two women.

  “Here’s the love of my life now,” Déjà gushed as Java entered the restaurant.

  Java’s eyes darted around the area looking for Kat.

  “Don’t worry sweet cheeks,” Déjà laughed. “She’s in her dressing room. It’s okay to flirt with me.”

  “Join me for lunch?” Java invited.

  “Delighted,” Déjà grinned. “You do know that will piss off your woman?”

  “She’s not my woman!” Java declared. “She’s someone’s wife.”

  “She wants to be yours,” Déjà taunted.

  Java walked into the kitchen, plated their food and nodded toward the elevator for Déjà to push the up button.

  “I missed you yesterday,” Déjà said as they took their seats at Java’s usual table.

  “I didn’t know you were looking for me,” Java shrugged. “What do you need?”

  “My community needs this basher case closed,” Déjà grumped. “Tell me what I can do to help make that happen. Folks are getting nervous and jumpy. It’s just a matter of time before innocents begin to die at the hands of vigilantes.”

  “I know,” Java agreed. “Déjà do you keep a record of who purchases items like the buttons for the voodoo dolls’ eyes?”

  “No,” Déjà shook her head. “Some people buy two and others will buy twenty at a time. Unless they pay with a credit card, we have no record of who made the purchase. For inventory purposes our register only keeps track of how many of each item is sold.”

  “I hate to ask you this,” Java grimaced, “but could you pull all button purchases of twenty or more then see who paid by credit card?”

  Déjà leaned back, a twisted smile played on her lips. “That would require a lot of my time.”

  “I know,” Java agreed, “but—”

  Déjà trailed her long fingers down Java’s arm and let her hand rest on top of Java’s hand. “If you’d help me after the shop closes, I could do it faster.”

  Kat shoved a chair across the floor as she stepped from the shadows of the stairway. She approached their table much like a lioness stalking her prey. “You’re needed downstairs, Java,” she growled.

  As the elevator doors closed on Java, Déjà folded her napkin and prepared to rise. Kat’s firm hand on her shoulder forced Déjà to stay seated.

  “I should go,” Deja pushed Kat’s hand from her shoulder and stood.

  “I saw the way you were touching Java,” Kat accused.

  “What’s it to you?” Déjà sneered. “Surely she’s getting tired of the way you treat her. I’d treat her right. Get her blood to pumping. Show her what it’s like with a real woman.”

  Kat’s eyes narrowed as she caught Déjà by her blouse lapels and pulled her down to look into her eyes.

  “Déjà I don’t care how often you pump up the tires,” Kat snarled. “I’ll always be the one riding that bike. Put that in your voodoo pipe and smoke it.” She pushed the priestess backwards and walked to the elevator.

  Déjà watched the singer enter the elevator and turn to face her. They glared at each other as the elevator doors slid shut. Déjà’s smirk disappeared. She knew Kat was right. Java only had eyes for Kat Lace. The only way Déjà would have a chance with Java would be if something happened to Kat.

  The elevator doors opened, and Kat pushed past Java. Java caught her by the arm and turned Kat to face her. “Kat what’s going on?”

  “I saw the way she was touching you,” Kat snapped yanking her arm from Java’s grip.

  “Kat,” Java groaned as the brunette sashayed away from her. Java fought the urge to run after Kat and shake her.

  Java bowed her head and walked into the elevator. Déjà was still standing watching the elevator. She smiled when the opening doors revealed Java.

  “What did you say to Kat?” Java asked

  “Chère, I told her she should step aside and give a real woman a chance to make you happy,” Déjà shrugged.

  Déjà picked up her purse and hung the strap over her shoulder. “Tomorrow night at six,” she instructed. “I’ll have dinner ready then we can go over the receipts together.”

  Java nodded as the ebony beauty pushed the button to ride the elevator to the ground floor.

  ##

  Java carried her cup to the serving counter and refilled it with strong hot coffee. Kat began to sing into the microphone as Java sat down at the table.

  Java sipped her coffee trying to tamp down her desire for the brunette whose sultry voice was caressing her senses. As she’d done a thousand times before Java tried to figure out what it was about Kat Lace that drove her crazy.

  “Everything,” she mumbled out loud. Everything about Kat makes my brain short circuit, Java thought. Her mane of glorious black hair. Eyes that steal my soul and full soft lips I can’t kiss enough. Damn she’s a good kisser. A shiver ran through Java’s body as she recalled kissing Kat.

  CHAPTER 37

  The next morning Java jerked awake as her phone blared Beau’s ringtone. “Jarvis,” she mumbled.

  “Java get to the police station in Gonzales,” Beau barked. “All hell is breaking loose there.”

  “On my way,” Java rubbed the sleep from her eyes as soft hands slipped around her and Kat snuggled into her.


  “What’s going on?” Kat murmured.

  “I don’t know. Beau just said for us to get to Gonzales on the double.”

  “Do we have time for a shower?” Kat snuggled in closer.

  “Humm, if we shower together,” Java hummed.

  “I was hoping you’d say that,” Kat giggled throwing the covers off her and heading for the shower.

  ##

  An hour later Kat and Java arrived at the Gonzales police station. It looked like a convention of news stations. A half dozen news vans were parked in front of the station and cameramen were everywhere filming anyone that even looked as if they were a law enforcement officer.

  Java was glad she and Kat were dressed in faded jeans and Kat’s were even worn with holes. Intending to be inconspicuous, they looked more like indigents than FBI agents. No one paid them any attention as they strolled through the front door of the Gonzales police station.

  Beau motioned for them to follow him to an empty room closing the door behind them.

  “What’s going on?” Java asked.

  “Seven people last night,” Beau choked. “Man and woman with five kids under the age of 12. Every news station in the state is here. Penny hasn’t arrived yet and the locals are screaming for blood. It appears The Basher is retracing his steps—Crowley, Lafayette and now Gonzales.

  “If we’re right and he’s copycatting the 1912 murders, he should strike in San Antonio next.”

  Java pinched the bridge of her nose trying to stave off the caffeine-withdrawal headache she had. “Is there a Starbucks close by?” She grumbled.

  “Yeah, couple of blocks over,” Beau shrugged.

  “Ride with us,” Java pleaded. “You can fill us in while I feed my addiction.”

  Beau laughed at his friend. “I’m surprised you didn’t get coffee on the way.”

  “You sounded frantic,” Java smirked. “We got here as fast as we could.”

  “I appreciate that,” Beau nodded.

  ##

  “We should stake out the San Antonio railway station,” Java commented as they found a table and sat down. “If you’re right we should be able to catch The Basher before he kills anyone else.”