Charley
Page 27
“I have to go, I need to see Wilma and Ronnie and get my things upstairs.”
And with that she walked away from me as she had done eight years ago.
Chapter Two
I love being a detective in Nashville. But what I don’t love was being on call 24/7. The homicide division could go for days with everything quiet. Then at the most inconvenient time, something happens. Tonight I was relaxing with Debbie in her apartment watching something on TV. I couldn’t tell you what was on, Debbie and I weren’t actually watching TV. Let me say, we were celebrating our engagement last week. Hey, any excuse, right?
My cell sounded the all too familiar ring that told me Ernie Hicks, my counterpart on the night shift was calling. My body went from relaxed to tense in a nanosecond. “Damn phone”.
“Better answer it, Bobby, might be important.”
“But sweetheart, you’re important tonight.” I was responding strong to our necking, but I didn’t tell Debbie.
“Bobby!” she said frowning.
“You are sexy when you act tough”.
“Bobby, answer the phone please. I know Ernie’s ring tone off by heart. Lord, I’ve heard it often enough.”
I had to relent. “What do you want? Ernie, this is definitely not a good time. I’ll see you in the morning.” And I hung up the phone. Before I could put my arm around Debbie, the damn thing rang once more. Hicks again.
“Bobby boy, the shift commander wants you down here pronto. Move it. Debbie will just have to wait,” and then Hicks shouted louder. “Hi Debbie, sorry we need him tonight.”
“What is so important that you guys can’t handle it?” I said.
“Been a shooting at Jimmy’s. Knew you might want to work on it.”
I sat up quickly and calmly told Debbie. “Been another shooting at Jimmy’s, I gotta go, sorry.”
Debbie is normally calm when I get these kinds of calls, but this one upset her. “Is Charley okay? What about Jimmy?” The worry on her face was sincere. “Call me as soon as you know something.”
Debbie’s apartment is in East Nashville, normally a fifteen minute drive with the morning traffic. At 10:45 in the evening and no traffic, I made the trip to Jimmy’s Bar and Grill on Second Avenue in eleven minutes. It seemed longer. Charley’s husband, Randle, had been murdered at Jimmy’s four weeks earlier in the first salvo of a brewing war between the two major crime kingpins in Middle Tennessee. The established boss in Nashville was Leonard Martin who controlled most of the prostitution, money laundering and protection in Nashville and the counties to the North. But Jack Schmidt had his tentacles wrapped around the drug business and loan sharking in the smaller wealthier municipalities surrounding Nashville. Martin had established his informal headquarters at Jimmy’s, threatening to fire bomb the building if Jimmy didn’t cooperate. Schmidt operated out of an office in one of the banks in central Nashville.
Jimmy Brewster’s son Randle had gotten involved in some unsavory business while studying accounting at the University of Tennessee. Martin threatened to expose Randle if he didn’t come to work for him. Unfortunately, working for Martin led to Randle’s brutal murder and ultimately to Charley miscarrying her baby and landing her at Grace Mercy in the psych ward.
I’m the lead detective on Randle’s murder, so yeah; I am very interested in a shooting at Jimmy’s. As I sped the short distance to Jimmy’s, I prayed neither Charley not Jimmy were involved, especially Charley.
*****
“I heard a sharp pop and then a lot of shouting. I was upstairs in the apartment listening to some soft music and daydreaming about the good times Randle and I had; having a pity party, I guess. The noise startled me, so I grabbed my sweater and rushed to the stairs. About halfway down, I could hear Jimmy talking to someone …”
I went over to the bar where Jimmy was standing, taking a large shot of whisky. “Yeah, I cornered the punk over there by the freezer. He had just run from the special door to the kitchen from Martin’s private booth in the Bar. I yelled to him, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ It was that slick gunman for Jack Schmidt. He pointed that pistol at me and calmly said. ‘We don’t mean you no harm Jimmy. Jack just had some unfinished business to take care of. Sorry about your boy. Keep your mouth shut and things will work out, understand?’ I’m just going to grab another bottle. I was so furious at him and at that bastard Schmidt, I nearly lunged at him despite the gun, I was going to kill him.”
“What stopped you?” I said.
“Out of the corner of my eye I saw Charley at the foot of the stairs. She has just come home, you know … and I couldn’t stand it she got hurt.” Jimmy stopped and stared at Charley. “I couldn’t let anything happen to her, she’s like my own baby girl. So I pushed around the jerk and went to her.”
Charley suddenly intervened. “I heard everything they were talking about, mainly that this brute had killed my Randle. I was shaking and couldn’t catch my breath. Then Jimmy got to me and took me in his arms.”
“What happened then, Jimmy?”
“The jerk turned to Charley, tipped his fedora, and said. ‘Sorry about your husband Ms. Brewster, I liked him a lot. It was nothing personal.’ And then he turned and left me holding a frightened and hysterical woman.”
I turned immediately to Charley, feeling sick in my stomach. “Charley, I’m so sorry this had to happen to you on your first day home. Are you okay now?”
“I think so.”
“I hate to ask this now, but I really need to know.”
“What Bobby?” Charley seemed almost calm as she looked directly at me. I could tell she was starting to slip away from reality and into that tiny shell in her head she had escaped to after Randle’s murder.
“Did either of you actually see Schmidt’s man shoot Martin?”
Charley was the first to speak. “No I didn’t see him shoot Martin, but I heard him say he did, that’s worth something isn’t it?”
“Jimmy?”
“Bobby, I was on my way back to the kitchen when I heard a ruckus coming from Martin’s table. I turned around and stared straight at Bruce as he was putting his pistol back in his pocket. When he ran through the booth’s side door to the back, I went through the swinging doors and that is where I stopped him.”
“Would you testify to that?”
“Gladly … just say the word and I will be ready …”
Being continued … and available soon!
Table of Contents
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Thoughts of Pastor John
About the Book
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter For
ty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Epilogue
About the Author
Excerpt from Loose Ends