by R Weir
Brandon leaned back in his chair, his right hand rubbing his chin, his mind deep in thought. I figured with his power he knew all of this already and probably had a copy of the police report shortly after it happened. He just wanted to hear what I had to say, searching for discrepancies, as Cummings did.
“If you’d come to me, maybe we could have got this cleared up and no one gets hurt,” he stated.
“You mean like Rickie Ward?”
It was a bold statement, and Brandon didn’t care for it, his glare turning harder.
“I was going to, but this happened before it was possible,” I said. “I had built up some evidence on what was happening with Emily. I wanted to be sure before I came to you, because I wasn’t certain you’d believe me.”
“Tell me what you learned?” he asked, his stare turning softer.
I gave him the complete story from when I last talked with him. The fabricated charade she had put on about the stalking, the affair with Jim, the stabbing of the neighbors’ dog, the staged rape and the seduction of me that same night. Also how she told me Melissa was his informant and one-time lover. He listened to every word, no sign of shock on his face, as if he knew already.
“I had suspected some of this,” he said after I finished. “Her mother, Millie, had asked for me to watch over her because of the problems Emily was having. It seemed at night, especially after a few drinks, she became this wild woman. Millie had tried to help, but she wouldn’t listen. She had hoped Emily would straighten up after her death. You see, Millie was much the same when she was younger. She was wild and sexually adventurous when she met me, a trait I enjoyed at first. Emily grew up around that and you mimic what you see thinking it’s the correct behavior. In time I reined her mother in and got her to see what love was really about. More than fucking, and more than using sex as a means to an end. I truly loved her with all my heart and made her a whole woman again. I hoped to help Emily as well but she didn’t like me much, at least until she needed something. Pony up and bat her eyes to get her way.”
“So her marriage to Mark was never what she wanted?”
“It’s hard to say. Marriage calmed her down for awhile, but she couldn’t stand being only with one man. She liked playing the field and working it at the same time. Sex was a weapon to get what she wanted. I suspected the whole smothering claim was a ruse to be single again. She pleaded with me, swearing it was true and she couldn’t live with Mark the way he was. After moving out she maintained he was stalking her shortly afterwards. So I helped her to be free of him any way I could. Little did I know she returned to her old self after the divorce, as she didn’t want anything to do with me. I tried to keep tabs, but I’m a busy man. As far as I was concerned she was a businesswoman dedicated to Reliable Consulting.”
“So you connected her to Bristol & Bristol to help with the divorce?”
“Yes.”
“And you helped Mark move on?” I stated. “Got him a job in Canada so he would be away from her. Persuaded him it was in his best interests?”
“I can be extremely persuasive when I need to be,” he said with a smile.
“And what about now? Will you help him again?”
Brandon got up from his chair and poured some Jack Daniels into two glasses. He handed me one and then sat down after drinking half. He put his feet up on his desk and arched the chair back until he was looking at the ceiling.
“Yes, if you feel it will help him.”
“Even though he wanted to kill her?”
“She drove him to it. I have nothing personally against him.”
“She asked me to handle him. Her desire was that I take him out of the picture.”
Brandon looked back down from the ceiling. “Interesting. How did you respond to her?”
“I told her I wouldn’t hurt him and he needed help. I don’t think she liked the answer.”
“I’ve had similar conversations with her as well. She often didn’t like my answer either.”
“She requires professional assistance badly. Will you see she gets it?”
“Anything she needs. I made a promise to her mother. I will see it through.”
“She needs you to take charge and give her some tough love and guidance to lead her to a more typical state. Her behavior is not normal.”
“I agree.”
“Get her to drop the rape charges against Jim,” I stated. “He still will need to take responsibility for killing the dog. I’ve already told him that. Opus was a family pet and friend to a little girl. He must pay the price for that act.”
Brandon nodded.
“And someone needs to go down for Rickie Ward’s death as well,” I said boldly. “I think you had a hand in that somehow. He was a sexist jerk who probably deserved a few body punches, but he didn’t deserve to die. Someone needs to take the fall.”
“You believe I was involved?”
“Not personally, but gave the order. Not to kill him, to send a message. Emily may have come to you to handle him. Maybe this time she did like the answer you gave. Did a little of that eye-batting you mentioned before.”
Brandon finished his drink, while I took a small sip of mine as Jack Daniels was potent. A few pretzels or peanuts would have been helpful, but I’d be pushing my luck asking for some. He got up and poured himself another glass and returned to his seat.
“My people are loyal,” he stated. “They do as they are told but sometimes, like when my two associates came to retrieve you, they go overboard in an effort to impress me. What will it take for your silence on this?”
“Nothing. Someone needs to go down and assume responsibility. They could plead it was accidental and get a couple of years for Involuntary Manslaughter if their record is clean. The DA is breathing down my neck to point to someone or they’ll arrest me, and today is my deadline. I’ve done everything possible to keep you out of this. The police aren’t stupid and are putting two and two together, concluding your involvement. If the culprits turn themselves in, they will be satisfied.”
“There are other means to make it go away that wouldn’t be pleasant for you.”
“Yes, there are, but that still won’t persuade me change my mind. I know you are powerful, and I’d prefer to remain friendly about all of this. We can keep Emily clear of this mess, and no one except the parties involved will know what she was doing. Jim and Mark, I believe, will keep their mouths shut if you help them. Someone for Rickie’s death is a fair trade.”
Brandon let out a long sigh. I knew, and he knew, it was the best option to keep the police out of his hair for now. He was a businessman who was skilled at making deals in his best interest. Even though he was powerful, having the authorities nosing around wasn’t ideal for his profession.
“Like I said, my people are loyal,” he replied. “I will have the man involved turn himself in tomorrow.”
“And what will they give for a reason for the beating?” I asked.
“We’ll think of something. An argument that got out of hand. Maybe over a woman. This Rickie character was a womanizer. He made a pass at my man’s girl and he took exception to it. It happens all the time.”
“He’ll do this and never say you were involved?”
“Who said I was involved?” he responded with a smile.
“Yes, I suppose you weren’t.”
He knew how to word things to cover his ass. The man was skilled in denial. He would have made a good politician.
“So I guess Emily is pretty mad at me?” I asked.
“To put it lightly,” he answered. “She wanted you handled. I had to calm her down, which is not normally my style. Shooting someone I care about would typically elicit a response.” He was being cautious with his words again. “I had some idea of how she was, and I respected you enough to listen to your explanation.”
I looked at him and he smiled. His respecting me wasn’t what I expected to hear. I guess it was better than the opposite possibility.
“I’d like to
talk with her. Get some final answers about what happened. Bring closure to this sordid affair.”
“Not going to happen,” he replied. “She will be well taken care of, but talking with you won’t help her any. On this I must insist. You got most of what you want from me, but don’t push it. There are limits to my generosity.”
I had little choice, so I agreed. He was right that pushing it wouldn’t have been good for my health. Another time I might be able to talk with her. Once her wounds had healed, been through therapy and days have passed, I could investigate and track her down.
“I want to understand why she hired me. I don’t see what she was trying to accomplish in all of this.”
“She’s a woman,” answered Brandon. “Sometimes they do things we can’t explain. She found it exciting to have a strong man with a gun to defend her. Hadn’t fucked a detective before. Or a deep-seated cry for help, which she is now getting.”
This might have been true, but still it would be cleansing to understand why. For now I’d have to settle for not receiving an absolute answer. Not having closure would bother me.
“You will be paid for your additional time,” he stated. “A check sent in a few days, with a small bonus. Be patient and let the process happen. I’m sure you’ll be happy with the final results. The police get their man and the case is closed. They will leave you alone, and we all return to our normal lives.”
He stood up and put out his hand. Standing as well, I shook it, finding it firm, rough and clammy. He walked me out the door with his arm around my shoulder and started telling me about his latest construction project in town. Deep down, I knew for certain I’d made a deal with the devil.
Chapter 33
Nearly a month had passed since I met with Brandon and our dry, hot summer of drought had turned to floods for much of the Front Range. Many Colorado towns received seventeen inches or more of rain in less than a week, in what would be a year’s worth of normal precipitation for the area, but all at once. It’s as if a giant bucket of water had been dumped on us from above. Many areas had suffered major flood damage, displacing people from their homes, causing loss of life and serious property destruction. Roads to small towns in the mountains, like Lyons and Estes Park, had been completely washed away, with months of work ahead to repair and make them drivable again. One could say the drought was over, but it wasn’t, because it was too much rain too quickly, as dams couldn’t hold back the floodwaters. It eroded the ground, destroyed property, while making a mess for many people. Another disaster the government had to provide support for to those unfortunate enough to experience it.
Being lucky I was up on a crest where the water didn’t flood my office home, even though there were rivers of murky liquid running down Evans Street. It made for a dreary few days, leading me to hide out and contemplate all that had happened. The check Brandon promised had arrived and I stared at it for a week. It showed it came from Emily, so as not to lead back to him. But I knew he’d funded it for my staying quiet. Guilt ruled for a while, along with a lingering fear of this powerful man. I couldn’t win and he could prove a useful ally in the future, since he said he would owe me for my cooperation. I weighed the options and decided to cash the twenty-five-thousand-dollar check. It made for a hefty balance in my account. The devil pays richly indeed.
As I sat at the desk of my home office I looked off into space, trying to absorb everything that had happened since the shooting. All of Brandon’s promises had come to fruition. He certainly wielded a fair amount of power and influence.
After turning himself in, Jim, out on bail, had hired a new lawyer to represent him. It was Tony Bristol and they plea-bargained, with Jim pleading guilty to animal cruelty and breaking and entering. He received a large fine, five thousand dollars, plus community service to work at the Denver Dumb Friends League shelter for ninety days, and a suspended sentence so he didn’t have to serve any jail time so long as he stayed out of trouble. The rape charge had been dropped, and he and his wife were receiving counseling. Tony Bristol had arranged it in an attempt to save their marriage. All the while he kept quiet about what Emily had done to manipulate him.
The death of Rickie Ward also was neatly wrapped up, with one of Sparks’s associates turning himself in, with Danny Bristol, the other Bristol lawyer in tow, admitting to accidentally killing Rickie. He had claimed to be mad at him for making a pass at his girlfriend, losing control and beating him up. Another plea deal done, out in two to five years with good behavior. A small price to pay for his boss, where he was well taken care of and placed in the Hilton of detention centers, a fat check waiting for him when he got out. Rickie’s public defender appeared satisfied with the outcome, though didn’t believe much of what I told her when I called to explain. It all seemed too neat and tidy to her, but she was happy someone was going to jail for the crime.
Mark was recovering nicely from the gunshot wound, and had finally come to grips with his ex-wife Emily and how she had manipulated him through the years via the professional help he was getting. He was working again, but softball was on hold until next year when his shoulder was healed. I had talked with him a couple of times and he seemed happy and ready to finally get on with his life, the aura of his ex-wife no longer haunting him, holding him back. A plea deal was brokered and he got off with a suspended sentence, as his only true crime they could hang on him was carrying a gun without a permit. He spoke of moving away and starting over in a warm environment where softball was played year round. I offered whatever help I could provide, but didn’t hear from him again.
A trip to Emily’s neighborhood showed her house up for sale with her nowhere to be found. Calls to her cell number said it was disconnected. Calls to her work had revealed she was on indefinite leave to handle personal matters, with no set date for her to return. I tried to talk with Jeanine, but she wouldn’t or couldn’t speak with me. The business was being run by Emily’s other partners as if she had never left. Her leg wound was healing, and Brandon had arranged for her to get all the help she needed. He would care for the daughter of his deceased wife just as he’d promised, no expense spared. When it came to family he was good at his word.
As for Melissa, I did finally get up the nerve to call her. Her cell phone went unanswered each time I called it and her work said she was on vacation out of the country for several weeks. I wasn’t sure if it was true or not, but I took it as a sign she no longer wanted to see me. The possibility existed she had found someone new. As vibrant and as outgoing as she was, it wouldn’t take long for her to find another man if she so desired. It was too bad for me and made for a lot of what-if questions in my head, leading to a fair amount of depression that was killing my normal motivation. I had to force myself to work out and keep the mind busy. There were a couple of options for cases, each of which I turned down. I wasn’t ready to return to the grind yet and needed to find something to get me over the edge. One day I looked over and saw the Willie Mays card mounted in the framed picture on the wall. I remembered the selfless act a young man did to help a friend and how it made me feel inside. I wanted to do something like he did to feel good again. A light went on in my cerebral cortex, and I decided to make a call.
I had a friend at the Max Fund, a no-kill animal shelter that took in unwanted dogs and cats, finding them homes. Dale had worked there for many years and I’d volunteered money and time to help them in the past. The place had a wonderful history of saving animals and hooking them up with proper families where they’d be loved, specializing in older pets that were harder to find owners for. They also spayed and neutered thousands of cats and dogs each year to prevent more unwanted births. When I called Dale and explained what I was searching for, he was eager to help me with my quest. It took a couple of weeks before we were able put it together. I found the business card the father had given me and called to arrange a meeting at the Max Fund with Emily’s neighbors. I explained to the parents the plan, and they agreed to come down on Saturday with their daught
er.
When they arrived I saw Judy, John, and Jennifer just as I remembered them. It had been a rough time for them losing their friend Opus to the plot of two people fueled by lust and rage. They never learned the whole story, and I didn’t plan to tell them. All they knew was a man killed their dog out of anger for the woman watching it. I wanted to see if I could bring back some joy to their lives, while hopefully adding a little to my own.
“Thanks for coming down,” I said when I saw them. “I have something to show you. Dale, can you bring him out?”
Dale walked out on a leash with a brown and white beagle. He had been abandoned by his owner because he had barked too much. He was around three years old and in excellent health. The doctors of the Max Fund neutered him when he arrived, a normal procedure to prevent more dogs being brought into the world unwanted. He saw the three of them and got excited by tugging on the tether and panting wildly. Jennifer went to her knees and waved for him to come over. Dale let go of the leash, and the exuberant animal came running to her in full sprint. She petted and rubbed him until he rolled onto his back. Liquid happiness starting flowing from her eyes, and you could see the instant connection.
“He is so beautiful,” said Jennifer through her tears.
“He is yours if you want him,” stated Dale.
“Can we? Mom and Dad, he is just like Opus.”
“Is he available for adoption?” asked John.
“Yes, he is. He was abandoned and needs a good owner. Jarvis says you would be perfect for him, since you already had a beagle and know what they are like.”
“And the cost?” asked Judy.
“Taken care of by Jarvis,” replied Dale. “You need to fill out some paperwork and he is yours to take today.”
All three of them looked at each other, and it was unanimous.
“How can we ever thank you?” stated Judy.
“Love him and give him a good home,” I replied. “Oh, and don’t let Emily babysit him when you vacation.”