by R Weir
“Dad, I want to start my own business. You know me. I need to be my own boss. Just like you and mom, run my own agency.”
“Yes, that independent streak runs in your blood. What do you need?”
“To put it bluntly, upfront money. It takes time to build a clientele. I have a couple already, but it’s hard to work security and gumshoe at the same time. To be as good as I need to be, I have to concentrate on it full-time.”
“How much?”
I told him a rough amount. I’m not sure where I came up with it. I needed cash to carry me though, and it wasn’t a small figure.
“Okay. It’s yours.”
“Wow, that was easy.”
“I have faith in you, son.”
“Thanks, dad. I know that wasn’t always true.”
“But it was. Even when you seemed lost, I knew you’d find yourself.”
“Only with your help. And Bryer’s as well. How did you know it would work?”
He stopped to cough for several minutes, spitting out some ugly-looking grime that came from deep inside, into the grass.
“I didn’t. Neither did Bryer. If that hadn’t worked, we would have tried something else. I trusted that all would work out for the best, in the end.”
“Thanks, dad. And thanks for all you did for me. I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t.”
When I got the cashier’s check a couple days later, it was for twice the amount I asked for. And it was the last time I’d ever see him alive, for he passed away a couple months later, with mom to follow a few after that, neither of them getting to see the direction my life had gone in. Most of which would have made them proud; but some, not so much.
A potential client had an appointment and came to my office promptly at 10 a.m. I offered her a seat and a bottle of water, which she accepted. Mandy Bailey was in her twenties and dressed upscale, with satin blouse and skirt, big hoop earrings and rings on nearly all fingers, including a diamond the size of my left testicle. Her perfume was potent and alluring, her hair long, bleached blonde, and straight. She sat with her legs crossed, the skirt riding up her smooth stocking-covered thighs. Out of respect, I didn’t leer too much.
“I would like to hire you to find who killed my husband,” she said, straight and to the point.
“When did this happen?” I asked.
I had note paper and pen to jot down information, since my mind was still a bit jumbled.
“Two months ago. The police are stumped and haven’t been able to crack the case. They believe it’s random, but I don’t. I want the killer found.”
“Why don’t you think it’s random?”
“Because he was scared. He was a computer programmer, a software engineer who came across high-level theft going on, the stealing of personal and financial information. He feared someone would discover what he had learned, and take action.”
“Did he share any of the evidence with you? Give you any clues to what he found?”
“No. I think he was afraid to tell me, for fear I would be hurt too.”
“Any threats against you?”
“No.”
“How did he die?”
“He was shot to death in his car at the parking lot where he works. Took his money and credit cards. Evidence pointed to it being random and only a robbery.”
“Did he have much money on him?”
“No. Certainly not enough to kill him for.”
“Did he put up a struggle?”
“They say he was beaten, so they believe so. But he was passive in nature, so I find it hard to fathom he would have fought back.”
I thought over what options I had to solve this case. Being sixty days had passed made for a cold case. It would be difficult, but not impossible. My confidence had been shaken with all I had been through, but I knew I could help her if anyone could. Still, there was one roadblock, hurdle, and demon to exorcise. The clichés filled my head, but were all true. I still had an open case to solve, and this was back in Des Moines.
“I’d be happy to work on this for you and I’m certain I can help you. But it maybe a few weeks before I can get to it as I have another case I’m concentrating on.”
She looked at me sadly.
“I’d be willing to pay more if necessary.”
“No need to. I promise when this other case is completed I’ll start right on yours and give it the full attention it deserves.”
“You do come highly recommended. A Detective Mallard said if anyone could solve it, you were the one. Though he did caution me not to sleep with you.”
I laughed, for the first time in a week.
“Yes, strictly business.”
“Then you’ll take the case?”
“As soon as I solve the current one.”
“I will write you a check for the retainer we discussed over the phone. So, you are certain you can find who killed my husband?”
“Absolutely,” I answered, with more confidence than I should have.
There was little doubt I would catch Flynn’s killers as well. The only question is what I would do with them once I did.
Chapter 29
On the flight back to Des Moines, I had a companion. Hardly a friend, but someone to provide the protection I required. I had called Brandon Sparks and arranged a meeting at his office. He was a construction mogul, and likely a crook on the side, with more connections than a United States Senator. An odd bond had been formed between us and I needed a favor. Something I had done in the past with some regret.
“I need someone to protect two people while I work a case,” I said to him. “They need to be formidable because I’m uncertain what I’m up against. Someone who won’t wilt under any danger that may come our way.”
“I still owe you from the Emily shooting,” he said, sitting behind his desk in his expansive office. “You did not turn her in, as I requested. Where and for how long?”
Nothing noble about not turning her in, as I likely wouldn’t be breathing anymore if I had.
“In Des Moines until the job is done. I need it open-ended. I’m uncertain for how long.”
“I assume this in relation to your brother’s murder.”
He had been aware of his death and had even sent flowers to the funeral.
“Yes.”
“I’m sure something can be arranged. When?”
“As soon as possible. I have a few things to coordinate, but would like to leave in a couple of days. They can join me on the flight if they are available.”
“Costs?”
“I will pay for the plane ticket. They will be staying at my sister-in-law’s house. Ground transportation and gas money will be provided. Meals will be covered.”
“The man I have in mind is paid a healthy amount for his services. Who will cover them?”
“You can. I will be working on expenses for someone but that is all. I doubt they will pay his hourly rate.”
“Yes, the FBI can be so stingy sometimes.”
I was never surprised by what Brandon knew.
“One other thing, and I need your word on this: there will be no killing unless necessary. None of this ‘he did it on his own and I have no control over it’ bullshit. If someone comes to hurt them, they are in their right to do what needs done. No random killing. And he needs to follow my orders. I’m in charge.”
“You make some things so complicated, Jarvis. We could send him in, kill them all, and be home in time for dinner.”
“I don’t know who ‘all’ is yet. I will in time, but for now his job is to protect Helen and Jolene at all costs. I want your word.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Jarvis. I admire your convictions, though I wonder about your stubbornness to do everything the hard way. You have my word.”
He stood up and poured two glasses of Jack Daniels, something he drank like iced tea.
“To a successful conclusion to the case of your dead brother. I’m betting on you to win.”
And now, on the plane, I rode next to what may have been the most dangerous man I’d ever met, not as if this was apparent at the moment. Rocky sat quietly listening to his music, his head slightly bobbing to the beat while reading a novel on his Kindle. We had gone first class at Brandon’s insistence, for Rocky was a big muscular man who needed the wider seats. His hair was still long and today he wore it in a ponytail. His arms bulged at his short sleeve shirt, his skin tanned as if he lived in the sun. He had a scar under his eye, the origin of which I’d not learned. I sat there thinking of our last adventure together, in which he’d killed several people to save me, my friends and loved one, from a fate worse than death. It hadn’t been the plan and I had been mad how it all came down, but happy to have lived through the experience. Now, he was here again. I knew Helen and Jolene would be safe from whatever dangers might await them once I started poking at the hornets’ nest. He was tough, resourceful, and deadly when needed. There was little doubt in my mind he would stand and defend them to the end.
Landing without incident, we gathered our luggage and took a cab to Helen’s house. I had called her the day before, informing her I would be coming into town. I didn’t give details, so as not to frighten her. She was home, still taking time off from the ordeal. We walked in the door Saturday afternoon and I went over to give her and Jolene a hug. Both looked as well as could be expected twenty or so days after learning of Flynn’s death.
“This is my associate, Rocky,” I said. “We need to sit down and talk.”
When Molly saw Rocky, she gave a low growl. He knelt down and put out his fist for her to smell and the growl turned to panting. He scratched her ears and, when she rolled onto her back, he rubbed her belly. Who would have known, a trained killer was a dog lover?
We all walked into the living room. Helen and Jolene sat on the sofa, while I took the easy chair. Rocky stood and Molly followed him, her eyes fixed on her new best friend.
“I’m back to finish the job,” I stated. “I’m going to find out who killed Flynn. This may put you two in danger. Rocky is here to protect you.”
Both looked over at him and he gave them a reassuring smile. He was relaxed, yet the muscles in his arms bulged as if he was flexing. Even though I had a lean, muscular build, no matter how hard I tried my arms would never get that large, and paled in comparison.
“Nothing will happen to you, I promise,” he said reassuringly.
“You look formidable,” said Helen.
“Believe me, he is. But for him to do his job, there are rules you need to follow. At no point are either of you to go out alone without him. He will drive you to work and to school, where you will be safe. He will pick you up from there as well. Never leave there with anyone else. If you need to go shopping, he goes too. If you both need to go somewhere, either do it together or I will take you.”
“This sounds serious,” said Helen.
“It is. I will be out stirring things up and I can’t have you in the line of fire. Nothing is going to deter me from finishing this. But you two would be leverage for me to stop. With Rocky watching you, there is nothing for me to worry about.”
I could see the fear on their faces. It was important for them to understand the circumstances, the potential danger, so as not to take unnecessary risks.
“Jolene, this also means no dates with your boyfriend, for now,” I said. “No matter how much you want to see him.”
“After what happened to dad, his parents told him to stay away from me,” she said sadly. “So he had to break up with me.”
“I’m sorry.”
Molly broke away from her new friend and came over to me. I too rubbed her ears, remembering another smaller dog that had been stabbed on a previous case.
“If Molly goes outside, someone should go with her as well just to be safe. I don’t want anything to happen to her either.”
“Why would they want to hurt her?” asked Jolene.
“To make a point and to scare you.”
These words were doing a fair amount of this already.
“The packages you told me about arrived yesterday,” said Helen, changing the subject. “They are in the kitchen.”
Rocky went and carried both of them out. Opening them up, he pulled out our needed weapons. Rocky had two 9mm Glocks, a sawed-off shotgun, and a Bowie hunting knife, freshly sharpened. I had my Berretta 9mm, two Smith and Wesson .38s, and a leather sap. Also packed away were several boxes of ammunition and four burner flip phones I had already setup. I powered on each of them and handed one to everyone.
“This is the phone we will use to contact each other. I’ve programmed the numbers into each phone to identify who you are calling. Use them only to call one of us and no one else. They are small, compact, and easy to use. Don’t go anywhere without them. Unlike your current phones, the batteries last several days. So it’s easy to forget to charge them.”
“Oh my, it looks like you are going to war,” stated Helen.
“Hopefully not. We are just being prepared for the worse. Any questions?”
“How long will this last?” asked Jolene.
I gave the only answer I could.
“Until it’s finished.
Chapter 30
After getting settled, figuring out sleeping arrangements, and getting supplies on Sunday, I was off Monday morning with my first task. I had to eliminate one suspect before moving on. Jealousy could have been the reason for Flynn’s death, so I had to go that route first. Since I had his address, I would go pay a visit with Carlos.
He lived in an apartment off of Cottage Grove Avenue, in the center of town, south of the Drake University Campus. Once there, I saw his car parked and walked up the stairs to the second floor and began pounding on his door. It took several minutes before he opened it up, sticking his nose across the chain. He was shirtless and in his underwear.
“What the hell do you want?” he said.
I stepped back and kicked the door in. The chain gives you a false sense of security, and it tore off easily, driving him back across the room. I closed the door and locked it, pulling out my 38, pointing it at him. He put his hands up in the air.
“Take whatever you want,” Carlos said. “I don’t have much money, but you can have it all. I even have a little pot if you want it.”
A woman came out of the bedroom with a pillow covering her naked body. It wasn’t Casey.
“Grab your clothes and leave,” I said. “Don’t doddle, and come out here and get dressed.”
She did as told and stepped out nervously, dressing. I was kind by not staring at her naked body. When finished she grabbed her purse.”
“Leave your cell phone. You can get it later.”
She tossed it on the table and ran out the door.
“Sit, Carlos.” I said. “We need to talk.”
His eyes lit up while sitting.
“Don’t I know you?”
“I bought slacks and a couple of polos from you a few weeks back at Younkers.”
“Yeah, now I remember. Hey, I’d don’t make them, I only sell them.”
I chuckled. “No, but you did threaten to kill my brother.”
His expression gave him away, but still he lied.
“No, man, it wasn’t me.”
“Yes, it was, because he was screwing one of your girlfriends, Casey Gaines.”
He wasn’t sure what to do.
“Now he is dead and you are my prime suspect.”
“Now wait. I wasn’t involved.”
“Did you beat him up because of Casey?”
“Okay yes, I did. But I wouldn’t kill him.”
“You said you would if he didn’t stop.”
“Hey, it’s something you say. You know, to scare someone.”
“Oh, you mean like this?”
I stepped forward, pulled back the hammer on the gun and aimed.
“Holy shit. Are you going to kill me?”
“If you killed Flynn, I will. Now, convince me you didn’t
do it in the name of love or lust or whatever you have with Casey. Apparently, it’s not exclusive, from the sight of the naked girl who left here a minute ago. Or maybe Casey asked you to kill Flynn.”
“No way. I had nothing to do with his death.”
“How long have you and Casey been together?”
“Off and on a year or two.”
“Do you know my brother is the second person to be killed who was involved with her?”
He looked away, as if to say yes.
“Both murdered during the time you were seeing her.”
“Hell no! Her ex-husband was in a car accident, and drunk at the time.”
“Interesting you know the details about it.”
He paused and stammered his response.
“Sure, I mean, you know, Casey told me.”
“You are lying about both of them and it’s time for you to die.”
I grabbed a pillow and pushed him down on the sofa, the gun pressed against his skull. He was yelling, but no one could hear him. He wasn’t struggling any, only shaking in fear. I pulled the corner of the pillow up so he could talk.
“It was an accident and I didn’t mean to. Please don’t kill me!”
“Are you ready to talk?”
“Yes, yes!”
I pulled away from him. He was shaking and I walked over finding an open bottle of Kentucky Bourbon. I poured a glass and handed it to him. He drank it all down. While I had been pouring, I pulled out my phone and, with a few taps and swipes, opened an app and held it in my other hand.
“Take your time,” I said. “Give me the details of how you killed Flynn.”
He looked at me. “No, it wasn’t Flynn I killed; it was Taylor Gaines, Casey’s ex-husband. I went to see him because he wouldn’t leave her alone. I wanted to punch his lights out, like I did your brother, but he got away from me and jumped in his car. I chased him, we both were speeding and I clipped his bumper and he spun out, hitting a light pole. I panicked and left the scene.”
“And how was it they determined he was drunk?”