Blood Brothers: A Jarvis Mann Detective Novel

by R Weir

  “Sure, if there is time.”

  “I gave her your number, too, when I told her you were in town. Don’t be surprised if she calls you first. I always thought you two made a cute couple.”

  I entered the number into my phone contact list so I would know it was her calling. I couldn’t say for certain if I’d take the call or not. Being a long ways from home and from Melissa, I didn’t need the temptation. But I was curious to see Roni again all these years later.

  “Of course, everyone said the same about me and Flynn,” stated Helen. “And see how it turned out.”

  “You knew what Flynn was like when you started dating him!” I said. “There was no mystery he was a ladies man.”

  “I did. He told me many times he would go right up to a woman and tell her the most direct statement he could come up with. If she told him to ‘take a hike’ he’d go on to the next one. Might work on one out of ten women, but he didn’t care. Rejection never bothered him. Hell, I was one of the ten. Hopped in bed with him that first night we met, and I was over the moon. The man knows how to satisfy a woman. Of course now I’d be lucky to get any action with him once a month. I’ve often wondered how my life would be different if I hadn’t screwed up on my contraception meds.”

  “Hey, it’s not all bad. You got Jolene out of it.”

  “Yes, and I love her to death. She’s not the same loving little girl from when you last saw her. She’s a teen now and wants less and less to do with me, leaving me feeling lonely and rejected by those at home.” She paused to take a long draw on her drink. “Well, at least the dog still loves me.”

  “Maybe she senses what is going on at home and wants to escape it.”

  “Possibly. Though she has a boyfriend and it scares me to death. He is a couple years older than her. I don’t want her to get knocked up like I did by accident. When I try to talk with her, though, she won’t listen. I probably should have you follow her too, and see what she’s up to.”

  “I’ll pass on that one. Following one family member is bad enough. Snooping on a teenager is a parent’s duty.”

  The pizza arrived and Helen’s drink was finished. She tried to order another, but I reminded her, so she settled for a soda. Unlike some women, she had a healthy appetite and ate three pieces of pizza, nearly matching my consumption. Maybe there wouldn’t be leftovers. As we finished up eating, she bore into me ready to hear what I had to say.

  “I’m sorry to say, Helen,” I stated. “It looks as if Flynn has a girlfriend. I followed him to two different hotels with her the last two nights.”

  “What is the bitch’s name?” Helen asked.

  I hesitated in telling her.

  “Come on Jarvis, I have a right. Especially if it’s someone I know.”

  “Promise you won’t do anything stupid?”

  “Nothing stupider than what he is doing.”

  I couldn’t argue that point.

  “Casey Gaines.”

  I waited but there was no reaction.

  “Damn, I don’t know the slut. Where does she live?”

  “I’m not telling. You will only make it worse. Deciding how to deal with Flynn is most important. And I implore you to think it over carefully and not make a rash decision.”

  “So, my first instinct to cut off his balls I should ignore?”

  I smiled. “Yes, I would suggest it. Jolene doesn’t need to visit her mother in the slammer.”

  “Hell Jarvis, I have no idea what to do. He was a hound before I married him, so what did I expect? This may not be his first affair since we’ve been married. My concern is how to go forward. I make decent money on my job, but hell, we’re nearly broke right now. And I doubt I can make the house payments on my own. I’m so mad I can’t even cry.”

  “Don’t do anything rash. If there is anything I can do to help, let me know. He’s been out late the last two nights. Does he stay out late every night?”

  “Generally three or four nights a week. Tonight, he is supposed to be home. We are having dinner out with a client and his wife.”

  “Are you going to go?”

  “I’m uncertain right now. I should, because it’s important to his business. Though, it will be hard to keep my emotions in check. I do believe I must confront him tonight, afterwards. I can’t sleep next to him knowing what he’s been doing.”

  “Do you want me to be there to provide support?”

  “No. But thanks for offering. I’m certain I can handle him. I do appreciate you helping. Can’t be easy to tattle on your brother.”

  I smiled again and had no comment. Guilt at ruining his marriage should rule the day. But since we were kids, I’d always enjoyed spilling the beans on Flynn. Being an adult didn’t completely kill the pleasure.

  Chapter 7

  After we finished up, I paid for lunch and decided to walk up and down and view all the shops. I had grown up walking these streets. I knew them well, for they had changed little over time. Some of the other shop owners knew my parents, so they knew me, though as a youngster. Many of the shops were the same, though some had different owners. I walked in and out of a few until I came upon my parents’ old business, now called Fisher Antiques & More. I walked in uncertain what I would find.

  Behind the counter stood a fifty something woman with graying hair, big thick glasses and thick red lipstick. She saw me and said, “Hello” and I stopped and stared at her. She adjusted her glasses with her hand and squinted. My three-day-old beard probably threw her off, but then she grinned with recognition, coming out from behind the counter and giving me a hug. Sue Ellen and her husband, Nathan, had bought the business from my parents after working for them part-time for many years. When my parents’ health issues began to take their toll, they were anxious to buy the business and call it their own. They were the first in line to express their sorrows at both funerals, being the good friends they were.

  “My lord, I’m surprised to see you,” said Sue Ellen. “Why are you in town?”

  “Business matters,” I said. “I needed to come in and say hi.”

  “So happy to see you. Nathan guess who is here?” Sue Ellen called out.

  Nathan walked out stiffly, showing his age more so than his wife. What was left of his hair was gray and slicked down, the balding top shiny as if it had been buffed. He put out his hand and I shook it gently. I could see the arthritis twisting the joints of his fingers. Though the body showed the years, the eyes still appeared sharp and clear. Next to my parents’, these two were the closet thing I had to family other than Flynn, Helen and Jolene.

  “What’s with the scruffy look?” said Nathan. “Is the big shot PI in disguise?”

  I laughed at his humor. He was one of the funnier people I’d ever known. Much of my wit had been born from listening to him speak.

  “No, I left the razor at home,” I replied. “Who knows maybe I’ll keep it.”

  “Oh, hell no,” said Sue Ellen, her hand squeezing my cheek. “Why would you want to cover this beautiful face?”

  “Trying to look like a tough guy,” said Nathan. “Though a goatee would give you a meaner appearance. The bad guys would be running away and hiding in fear.”

  “Never find the right woman looking tough and mean,” answered Sue Ellen. “Probably scared them off with that horrible day we heard about back in Denver.”

  It was closer to the truth than she realized.

  “Oh heck, Sue Ellen, the scum probably had it coming to them,” said Nathan. “Evil to the core and we are better off they are no longer walking on this earth. Is that right, son?”

  “Yes, you are probably right,” I replied.

  “Hard to believe that young boy we knew all those years ago would be involved in something so gruesome,” stated Sue Ellen. “I shudder to think what your parents would have said when hearing about it.”

  “I’m sure John would have slapped him on the back and said ‘well done’. Since he isn’t with us anymore, I’ll do it for him…”

&n
bsp; There still was some sting in his slap, but all I could do was laugh. We stood and talked for some time, chatting about the past, present and future. How their kids were doing, who I’d grown up with, who were married now and provided them grandkids. I had spent a good chunk of my life in this store and several of the others in the area. I had helped my parents keep the place going and got in trouble many times while growing up. Been in a few fights out on the streets and in the neighborhood. They were mine and I owned them, so I’d thought. I’d been wild and undisciplined; probably still was in some ways. This was where I became who I was.

  Around the age of fourteen I thought I was the cat’s meow, with way more confidence than I should have. I strutted my stuff and thought I was tough. I was still small in stature, around 5’6”, a late growth spurt still a year or two in the making. Being a bit on the pudgy side, my weight was my advantage. When perusing the neighborhood, there had been times I’d searched for trouble. Someone left a bike out, I would debate stealing it. An unattended football or Frisbee and it was mine. A jacket left behind and it would be a new addition to my closet. I wanted to be in control and take stuff from others, exerting my perceived notion of dominance. I’m not certain why I felt or acted this way. I certainly wasn’t raised like that. My parents often preached right and wrong, since the time I could understand them. Something had gone off inside saying I was better than others, deserving what I could take. If I was sharp and strong enough, then so be it. I got by on cockiness and sarcastic attitude. If they weren’t strong enough to fight back, oh well. The problem, though, was I wasn’t as tough as I thought I was. I’d often run into someone who could kick my ass and did. I came home with bloody noses and black eyes on several occasions. I could hold my own with the best of them, but not for long, losing the battle often.

  One summer day, I ran into a kid older than me by two years, he and his buddies ready to push me around. They wanted my baseball glove and hat, along with my bike which I used to ride to the ball field to play for my team, the Braves. The kid’s name was Corey and he shoved me to the ground, knocking me off of my bike. It was a nice eighteen speed unit which I gotten for my birthday.

  “Jarvis, you better stay down,” he said after a couple of well place shots to the stomach.

  “I’m not afraid of you,” I answered defiantly while rising from the pavement.

  “You should be…”

  Between him and his two friends I didn’t stand a chance, but I tried. In the end, I took a beating I’d never forget and the items were no longer mine. I didn’t like what happened, but it didn’t deter me any. If they could take from me, I could take from others, including my own family. I had plotted my revenge, but against someone other than Corey.

  There were many types of shops up and down The Valley Junction. Several other antique shops like my parents’, but also dining, bakeries, arts and crafts, jewelry; the variety was endless. Some of the shop owners knew me. I decided to secretly take an antique from my parents’ shop and look to resell it at one of the others, where they didn’t know me. I’d use the money to replace the stuff stolen from me. I worked out the details and was able to sneak out the back with an expensive vase one afternoon while my mother was busy with a customer. I immediately took it to one of the other shops to see what they would give me for it. I hadn’t thought it through very well, and the owner took one look at me and the vase, asked to have it so he could study it in the back, and called the police without me knowing. They arrived a few minutes later, the black and white parking out front. When I saw them pull up, I panicked and ran out the door. They caught up with me and dragged me back to the store.

  “Where did you get the vase, son,” asked one of the officers with a stern expression.

  I played dumb. “I found it.”

  “Where?”

  “In a dumpster a block or so away. Thought it might be worth something, so I brought it here.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Jarvis.”

  “I need your full name, please.”

  I hesitated. Should I lie? If I didn’t, they would recognize the last name and could connect me to my parents shop.

  “Smith,” I answered.

  It was the best I could come up with, and wasn’t real convincing. The two officers looked at each other in disbelief.

  “I guess we’ll need to take him in,” said the second officer. “We’ll leave him to stew in a cell for a while. Once he breaks, we can call his parents from there.”

  I was cornered now. They took me to the car and started to put me in the back seat. All I could do was fess up.

  “It’s not Smith. The name is Jarvis Mann.”

  They pulled me back into the store and told the manager. He looked my way and told the officers there was Mann Classic Antiques two blocks away. He got the number and made the call. In about twenty minutes my father showed up. When he stepped in and saw me, his reaction was of disappointment.

  “What has he done now, officer?” he said.

  This was not my first run in with the authorities, though it would be my last. For my father would bear down on me teaching me a lesson forever, with the help of a friend in the county sheriff’s department, changing my path in life.

  When I finished talking with the Fishers I walked up and down the streets of the whole area. The weather was good except for the humidity which was always high and many times matched the temperature. The buildings here had stood a long time, some in better shape than others. Still for being a hundred years old or more, they looked good. Few modern structures stood for as long. I window shopped here and there and stepped into one of the many food stores to pick up a bottle of water and some caramel corn. As I stepped out my phone rang and it was Helen.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Jarvis,” she said. “But I didn’t do as you suggested and did something rash.”

  I was afraid to ask but had to know. “What did you do?”

  “I called a locksmith and changed all the locks. Then I took all of his clothes, packed them into several duffle bags and suitcases, and put them on the front curb. I then called him and told him to come by and get them. Once I simmer down in a few days I’ll let him get the rest of his stuff, including his car. Then I contacted a lawyer.”

  “So what was Flynn’s response?”

  “He didn’t deny it, only wanted to talk and explain. I told him no, not until I had some time to think.”

  “And what if he insists on talking?”

  “He won’t. For I told him if he does anything stupid I’d kick him in the nuts and call the police.”

  Nothing more chilling than a double threat like that to keep a man away.

  “Does he know how you found out?”

  “I didn’t mention you. I only said I’d followed him and learned of the affair.”

  It all seemed pretty cut and dry. Domestic cases were the worst and I was right in the middle of this one. I could try to convince her to step back and cool down, but it would do no good. I could hear the resolve in her voice.

  “What will you tell Jolene?”

  “The truth. Her father is a pig.”

  “Hopefully, something with a little more tact.”

  “We’ll see. I doubt she will care much, though. She is pretty caught up in her own world these days.”

  “Do you want me there when he picks up his stuff?”

  There was a long pause.

  “I would say no. He knows better than to mess with me. I’m no wilting flower.”

  Yes he did and so did I. She had gone against my advice, but what could I say? She might regret her actions later, but for now she appeared to know what she wanted. I sure as hell wasn’t going to stand up for my brother. He was on his own and heaven help him. It was the Mann weakness of not being able to keep it in our pants, an ailment I battled every day. Like now; I was fighting the urge to call Roni.

  Chapter 8

  The next morning, for some silly reason, I wanted to check up on my bro
ther. It was dumb, but I felt I must. I had looked at flights online and wanted to book something and get the hell back home. I couldn’t bring myself to hit the reserve button. Run away and don’t get involved anymore I told myself. This all seemed unresolved and I couldn’t leave it. On the drive over to his office, I thought it was idiotic on my part to stop by, for he would know I was the one who’d spilled the beans. Of course, it wouldn’t have been the first time I’d done so.

  Before the vase incident I had gotten into a scrap at school with another student. The fight was over stolen lunch money, which I had taken from him. I had been challenged outside after school and the fight began on the school grounds. He was not much bigger than me, a little taller but thinner, so I’d used my weight against him. We mostly rolled around the ground, the majority of the punches going to the body, before a pair of teachers broke it up. Threats of suspension came, even though the school year was nearly over. But if it happened, it was possible I’d miss some final tests and not pass the year since my grades teetered on the brink of failure, the sponge-like student of the past no longer present. I was grounded again and couldn’t leave to do anything, awaiting word from the school. My father was livid with me, uncertain what more to do, asking if I had truly stolen the money. Once I’d confessed that I had, his anger increased, for this wasn’t the first time I’d been in trouble. I was cornered, knowing the punishment would be harsh. This is when I blurted out something to take the heat off of me, information I’d learned on one of my stealth missions of following my brother.

  “But dad, Flynn has been sneaking out at night,” I said. “He’s been meeting up with some friends, smoking, drinking and messing around with some girls. He hasn’t been getting home until 2 a.m. or so.”