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Blood Brothers: A Jarvis Mann Detective Novel

Page 24

by R Weir


  With a wry smile, he turned and opened the back door, and out stepped Kellie Toro, dressed in fashion blue jeans, black boots and sheer tan blouse open enough to see some chest skin. In her gloved hands at her side she held a small sub-nosed .38 we had been practicing with earlier in the day, a few more windows shot out from the abandoned building behind us. She moved forward to within a few feet of Alexander, raised the gun with both hands like I taught her and sighted down the barrel.

  “What are you doing, Kellie?” stated a shocked Alexander.

  “This is for our son, to prevent him from becoming a monster like you,” she said calmly.

  She squeezed the trigger, slowly and precisely six times, aiming center mass, the sound of each shot filling the air. The bullets hit their mark, one after another. He was likely dead after the third one, but she used them all. His dead body, lying there motionless. I confirmed it when I checked his neck for a pulse. Kellie stood there looking at the bloody corpse before her, neither happy nor sad. She handed me the gun, then peeled off the gloves, tossing them to me as well.

  “Feel better?” I asked.

  “Not yet, but I’m getting there,” she replied. “My happiness will be complete when I get back to the jet and hug my son.”

  She turned and headed back to the limo. Rocky stepped over to open the door for her, a bigger smile spread across his face, giving her a high five before closing it behind her.

  “You’ll take care of this,” I said, while throwing the gun and her gloves on the body.

  “Yes, I will,” replied Max. “He died of a heart attack will be the official reason for his death.”

  “Not far from the truth. I believe he had one right when he knew it was her who was going to kill him. Never in a million years would he have foretold this ending.”

  I turned and walked back to the limo, Rocky still standing outside, his arms crossed, hair blowing in the wind and rain which was coming down a little harder now. He put out his fist and I bumped it with mine.

  “Feeling better?” he asked.

  “Not yet, but I’m getting there,” I replied, echoing Kellie’s earlier words. “When we get back to hug Helen and Jolene and tell them the ordeal is over, my happiness will be complete.”

  I pulled out the burner cell phone to use it for the last time, and once I got a signal called to let them know I was coming home again.

  Chapter 54

  It’s always good to be home.

  I’d been back in Denver about ten days now. Home had always been Des Moines growing up, but now my home was at the base of the Rocky Mountains. Home was where the heart is, but I truly didn’t feel at home until I was in the Mile High City. It was a relief to be finally free of the confrontation with an evil man. A price was paid in the loss of my brother, which I would never forget, the sight of him sitting in his chair dead, a person so alive and cocksure days before. It was an ache I would relive till my final days.

  We had returned back to the airfield, with the jet waiting for us, Helen and Jolene, along with Brandon and his pilot. The ladies were relieved when they heard from me, even more so when they saw me and got the good news. Max would make good on his promises. Their money was gradually returned, along with that of the other investors on the list. The two brothers were now broke and out of work, the Feds investigating them on various fronts. Max would pull the plug on the funnel of money from Alexander’s organization, breaking all connections, moving it to other places to launder. I personally didn’t care where this was. I could only worry about my little corner of the world. Crime and violence would always march merrily along, no matter what I did.

  Now I was indebted to Brandon more than ever. I cringed at the possibly of what it could lead to. For now, it didn’t matter, as I required his resources to accomplish my mission. He even had a smile when it was over, since he had formed a new alliance with Max which could pay off. He would be a mentor of sorts and possible associate in business, some of it even legitimate. And he’d found a new partner in Roni, investing in her restaurant and maybe even a little bit of monkey business too with my sexually liberated former girlfriend. Deep down, I was happy she had found her calling in life.

  I was sitting outside my home/office, contemplating the events, waiting on a delivery. A call had come from a freight company saying they had a large package for me, which I needed to be there to sign for. I sat on the hood of my car wondering what it could be, enjoying the Colorado summer, without the humidity. Damn I loved the dry heat. A semi-truck with short trailer pulled down the alleyway and parked, blocking the road. The driver and his partner popped out and came to me with paperwork.

  “Jarvis Mann,” the larger and taller of the two asked.

  “You’ve got him,” I answered after flashing ID. “What do you have for me?”

  “There is an envelope for you to open and read. We’ll put the item onto the lift gate and bring it over.”

  I opened the seal and found the letter, a title, and a set of keys. It was from Helen and Jolene.

  Dear Jarvis,

  We can never say how much we appreciate all you did for us, including for Flynn. Nothing will ever clear the thoughts of his death, the horror we felt at losing him. But we will always be grateful for the extra mile you went to eliminate his killer and retrieve the money stolen from us. As a token of our gratitude, and knowing full well Flynn would want you to have it, we are giving you his Harley Davidson. Ride the wind in good health and fortune. We will always care deeply for you and hope it’s not another seven years before we see you again.

  Love, Helen and Jolene…

  The two men rolled the bike over to me, removing the vinyl, waterproof cover protecting it. The Harley Softail was perfectly clean, freshly polished and waxed. I thanked the men, took the keys and sat on it, starting her up, the loud full-throttled roar fulfilling in my ears, echoing down the alleyway. I would ride on in my brother’s name, on two wheels in his memory.

  Flynn was about twenty years old when he came home with his first motorcycle, showing it off to me and our parents. Mother looked worried but knew she couldn’t convince him otherwise. Dad studied it, examining the design, a thumbs up in appreciation. I would soon turn eighteen and would be leaving home to go to college a year later. Flynn looked so cool on the small Harley Sportster, black with glistening chrome, crimson gas tank and the famous Harley engine rumble. He was wearing black leather pants and jacket, his sunglasses giving him a slick look I never forgot. He smiled at me and revved the throttle.

  “I’m going to get lots of ladies with this baby,” he said proudly.

  I recall mother blushing at his words, my father silently proud of his ladies’ man son.

  “Can I ride on the back?” I asked.

  “Forget it. Chick’s only on the back with me. They’ll be holding on tight and I’ll be loving it. Whispering in my ear while we motor around town. There is this one sweet thing I hope to cajole in to riding with me. Her name is Helen and she is going to be Hell-On-Wheels.” He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “A sure fire guarantee I’ll get in her pants with this baby.”

  We both laughed and I knew some day I’d have a bike exactly like this one. But it never happened, as money was always too tight. The years had passed, my yellow and black Mustang being my chick magnet…

  The bike felt right. I knew how to ride, how to shift and brake, as Flynn had taught me way back when. I would be rusty and needed to get a motorcycle license. But I didn’t care. With the helmet, jacket and gloves also shipped with it, I filled the tank and took her for a spin on the back roads, getting myself up to speed. Twenty-five minutes of riding and I was off to Melissa’s for dinner. A date with her and a moment in time I’d been dreading.

  We had spent a few days together since I’d returned, a couple of passion-filled nights, yet guilt continued to haunt. Even though Roni felt it would do no good to tell Melissa of my indiscretion, I felt a burden which wore on me, and I could no longer hold back. When I pulled up, sh
e walked outside to see my new ride, a smile on her face.

  “Wow, a new toy?” she asked, standing there in shorts and a tank top.

  “A gift from Helen and Jolene,” I replied.

  “You look good on it. The leather jacket is extremely sexy.”

  I dismounted, placing the helmet on the seat. I came over and gave her a hug. I struggled with the words, what to say, how to put it. I needed to be honest, knowing full well the possibility of what the end result would be, another vacation to the islands in jeopardy, another relationship with a woman ending badly.

  “Melissa, I need to tell you something,” I said. “Something happened in Iowa, a moment in time I will always regret. I made a mistake with someone and broke the trust between us…”

  I admitted my transgression, the tears and anger began to flow, and our relationship was forever changed.

  Thanks for reading Blood Brothers. I hope you enjoyed it and would love if you would leave a review on Amazon to help an Indie Author.

  And be sure to check out my other Jarvis Mann Detective novels, Twice as Fatal and Tracking a Shadow. Plus the short story The Case of the Missing Bubble Gum Card; all Available on Amazon:

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00XTNTHWW

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MQHVKJA

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00JGEZNSU

  Jarvis will return soon in the Dead Man Code, where he searches for the killer of a computer geek and uncovers a financial conspiracy of massive proportions.

  If you want to reach out, please email me at:

  rweir720@gmail.com

  Follow R Weir and Jarvis Mann on these social sites. I appreciate hearing from those who’ve read my books:

  https://www.facebook.com/randy.weir.524

  https://www.facebook.com/JarvisMannPI

  https://plus.google.com/+RWeirAuthor

  https://plus.google.com/+JarvismannBlogspots

  http://jarvismann.blogspot.com/

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