The Double Man (Jack Widow Book 15)

by Scott Blade

  Bob Garret backed away with his hands up like he didn’t mean to offend her and a smile on his face. He turned to Widow and asked, “What about you? Can I take your coat?”

  Bob Garret took Keagan’s jacket and saw her SIG Sauer parked in its hip holster. He stepped back and said, “Oh! That’s a serious looking gun. Do you need me to take that too?”

  Keagan smiled and said, “No. I’ll keep that on me.”

  Bob Garret nodded and took her jacket and Widow’s coat. He walked over to a bench near the wall. There were boots underneath it. He draped the coats over the top.

  Widow saw the shoes and boots underneath. He saw a pair of girl’s shoes among them. They were pink and small. They were way too small for Bob Garret’s feet, which looked to be about a size twelve. The pink girl shoes underneath were a size six in girls.

  Bob Garret led them through an archway and into a living room, where they saw a large leather sofa and a love seat to match. There was a coffee table, a huge TV that hung above a fireplace, and two more chairs. The floor was Spanish tile. It was immaculately cleaned, like someone had mopped it not long ago. Maybe Garret, or maybe he had a maid service that came out, and they had recently been there. The walls were decorated in a Spanish rancher style. Keagan and Widow could see the kitchen to the west. It was opened up enough to see an island and all the appliances.

  One of the chairs in the living room was this worn, comfortable-looking rocking chair. It was heavy and cushioned. Sheriff Garret sat in it. This time, he wasn’t holding his Raging Bull hand cannon. It was nowhere to be seen.

  Keagan introduced herself and Widow without saying that Widow was not technically a member of the CGIS or a federal officer. He smiled at her and greeted them both warmly. He was like a completely different man.

  Bob Garret came into the living room behind them and asked them both to sit on the sofa. Keagan sat first and Widow followed. He dumped himself down on the sofa. His weight caused Keagan to slide a little toward him. She adjusted herself and recentered herself to the middle of the soda, far enough away from Widow not to sink into the leather.

  Sheriff Garret sat in what Widow guessed was his favorite chair. Even though he didn’t have the hand cannon on him and was in his late seventies, he was still an intimidating man. He was tall and thick. Despite the smile on his face, there was a roughness to him like a mountain man. He looked more like he was related to Widow than Bob.

  Garret wore the same jeans and flannel shirt Widow saw him in earlier. He had no shoes on. He was in his socks.

  The expression of confusion they saw earlier wasn’t there. His face looked more nervous, like he didn’t know why he was being visited by federal agents, maybe.

  Bob sat in the chair next to his father’s. His back was to the front door. He kept his eyes on Keagan. He asked, “So what is this all about?”

  Keagan glanced at Widow, who was staring at the shoes at the door. She looked back at Bob and smiled. She explained the whole story. She told them they were from Kodiak Island, about the dead guy, about his phone records, and how there were calls to and from Bob’s father’s house. The whole process took a while to explain.

  Widow sat straight up the whole time, his back straight, and his hands flat on his legs, like he was ready to jump up at any moment.

  Bob kept his hands in his vest pockets the whole time. Sheriff Garret occasionally would ask who they were. Bob would remind him, and then he would ask who Bob was. Bob reminded him of that too.

  Keagan asked, “So, do you know anything about a guy named Gary Kloss?”

  Bob Garret said, “I’m afraid I never heard of him. And my father forgets things, as you can see. I want to get him a live-in nurse, but he keeps refusing.”

  Sheriff Garret just sat and stared.

  Keagan asked, “Maybe he knew Kloss from an old case he worked?”

  Bob Garret said, “I doubt it. This is a small town. Not much goes on here.”

  Bob Garret turned to his father and said, “Pop, do you recognize the name Kloss?”

  Sheriff Garret turned and stared at Bob like he didn’t recognize his own son. Both Keagan and Widow could see that.

  Bob Garret said, “My dad is always calling random numbers. Must be a mistake. Maybe this Kloss guy was just returning the phone call? You know, like a game of phone tag. My dad called him by mistake, and then he’d call back, and then my dad wouldn’t answer because he doesn’t recognize the number, and then he’d forget and later see the missed call and call him back. And round and round they went. That makes sense, right?”

  Keagan said, “Yeah. I guess it could.”

  Widow looked at Sheriff Garret and said, “Tell us about your daughter.”

  Sheriff Garret looked up at Widow and stared. His eyes watered up. He started to say something, but Bob Garret spoke instead.

  “My pop doesn’t have a daughter. It’s just me. Right, Pop?” Bob Garret said, and he reached across a short gap between their chairs and patted his father’s forearm. Sheriff Garret said nothing for a long moment, and then he cleared his throat and spoke.

  He said, “Oh, that’s right. Yes. It’s just us.”

  Keagan looked at Widow like she was trying to think of another question. She was about to speak, but Widow interrupted her.

  Widow looked at Bob Garret, smiled, and asked, “Got any coffee?”

  Bob Garret furrowed his eyebrows. He asked, “Oh, do you think you guys will stay long enough for coffee?”

  Widow said, “Yes. We’ve got a lot more questions. That’s if it’s not a problem, of course.”

  Bob Garret glanced at his wristwatch like he had somewhere else to be. He said, “No. Of course, we are happy to help. Let me get some coffee for all of us.”

  Bob Garret stood up and pointed at Keagan, he asked, “Want coffee too?”

  She nodded.

  Bob Garret asked, “You guys both want milk and sugar?”

  Widow said, “Yes. Cream and sugar for us both, please.”

  Bob Garret turned to his father and pointed a stern finger at him. He said, “I already know how you want yours. I’ll be right back. Now don’t say anything without me present, Dad. You never know. They might suspect you of murder, and you don’t want to incriminate yourself.”

  Keagan asked, “Oh, are you a lawyer?”

  Bob Garret smiled, lowered his stern finger, and said, “Guilty! But not here. I practice in Colorado.”

  Widow stood up suddenly and asked, “Hey, where’s the bathroom?”

  “Dad, tell Mr. Widow where the bathroom is. I’m going to make the coffee for us,” Bob Garret said, and he headed off to the kitchen.

  Sheriff Garret pointed at a hallway in the other direction. Widow nodded and nodded at Keagan. He whispered to her, “Don’t drink whatever he gives you.”

  She said nothing to that. He left her sitting there and headed to the mudroom. He stopped and took a glanced at the shoes again. There was a pair of girl’s boots and pink sneakers. He turned and vanished down the hallway. He found the bathroom and stepped in, switched on the light, and ran the water in the sink. He stepped back out into the hall and shut the door behind him. He hugged the wall to stay out of the Garrets’ line of sight and headed to one of three closed doors.

  He opened one and found a bedroom with a made bed. The room had personal items in it. It could’ve been a girl's. The closet door was open. Widow saw clothes that could’ve belonged to a girl. He saw no shoes on the ground. He skimmed over the rest of it quickly because he didn’t have much time. He found nothing of interest and stepped back out. The second door was a hall closet. He didn’t even search it. He closed the door and went straight to the third door.

  This one led to the master bedroom, or Sheriff Garret’s bedroom. The room was pretty large. The bed was unmade. There were dog toys all over the floor. The bedroom had typical bedroom furniture. There was an open closet. He saw clothes hanging neatly. They all looked like the sheriff’s style. There were no shoes on the floor
, like the other bedroom. Inside the room, there was a chest of drawers, pictures hung on the walls, the bed was king-sized, and the floor was carpet. There were two nightstands, one on each side of the bed. Widow went right for the nightstand that was on the slept-in side of the bed. It had a large white cowboy hat on it. He checked the drawers. He hoped to find a gun, or the Raging Bull, but he found nothing but a box of the bullets. But then he looked at the cowboy hat. He lifted it up, and right there underneath was the Taurus 444 Raging Bull revolver. He tossed the hat onto the bed and lifted the gun. It was heavy. He checked it. It was loaded with forty-four Magnum rounds, six of them. It was in good working order and ready to fire, ready to kill.

  Widow left the bedroom and returned to the bathroom and flushed the toilet and turned off the running water in case anyone had been listening. He headed back down the hall and walked into the living room. He saw that Sheriff Garret was still in the same chair. His look of confusion had turned to one of worry. Keagan was on the sofa, same place, and Bob Garret was standing over his chair, his hands in his pockets again. He waited for Widow to sit.

  He smiled and said, “Mr. Widow, there’s a coffee for you. Cream and sugar, like you said.”

  On the coffee table was a mug of piping hot coffee in a mug on a saucer. It was not the way he liked it, but he wasn’t planning on drinking it anyway. Keagan held hers in her hands. It was also in a mug on a saucer. Widow imagined that Bob Garret handed it to her that way on purpose to keep her hands full and in plain view since she obviously had a firearm in a holster.

  Widow thanked Bob Garret and sat down on the sofa. He didn’t touch the coffee.

  Widow noticed that Bob’s chair was slightly different. It was angled and pointed directly at them both. It hadn’t been that way before.

  Widow suspected the coffees were drugged, or not. Either way, he saw no reason to keep up the charade. So why wait?

  Fast, Widow heaved his hips forward, lifted his butt up off the sofa, and reached back like he was going to scratch, but instead, he came out with the Raging Bull. The hand cannon looked huge in Sheriff Garret’s hands, but it looked like it was the proper fit for Widow’s. He shoved the gun out and pointed it directly at Bob Garret.

  Bob Garret’s face lit up a pale white, like he was shocked, but it started to die down fast when Widow asked his question.

  Widow stared at him and asked, “Who are you really?”

  Bob Garret said, “Whoa! What’s with the gun?”

  Widow thumbed the hammer back, and aimed it at Bob’s center mass. He didn’t ask again.

  Bob Garret kept his hands in his pockets. His smile faded away, and he said, “I’m Bob. This is my father. I told you that.”

  Keagan said, “Widow, what are you doing?”

  Widow said, “You were good, Bob. But not good enough. You shouldn’t have denied having a sister so quickly. I looked in both bedrooms and you know what I noticed?”

  Bob Garret said nothing.

  Widow said, “Look at the Sheriff’s feet. He’s not wearing shoes. He’s wearing his socks. Look at these floors. They’re pretty clean. And both bedrooms back there don’t have any shoes in the closets. You know why that is?”

  Bob Garret said nothing.

  Widow said, “Because the Sheriff doesn’t want people wearing shoes in his house. Ain’t that right, Sheriff?”

  Widow kept his eyes on Bob Garret. He kept the Raging Bull aimed at his center mass. He didn’t move his eyes away. He didn’t flutter. He didn’t blink.

  Widow asked, “This your son, Garret?”

  Sheriff Garret said, “He killed my dog.”

  That was all Widow needed to hear. He was poised and ready to pull the trigger. But before he could, Babbitt squeezed the trigger to the SIG Sauer P365 that was in his pocket and pointed at Widow.

  Before he squeezed that trigger, Widow watched him. He saw Babbitt’s eyes. The look in them switched to a killer’s eyes. Widow saw Babbitt’s shoulder flinch.

  Widow exploded to action. He dodged to his right, slamming into Keagan, pushing her down, and getting between her and any gunfire that came their way.

  Babbitt squeezed the trigger, and gunshots exploded a hole through his fluffy vest. The sofa cushions behind Widow exploded from the bullet impacts. Once! Twice!

  Widow returned fire, but he only shot once. That was all it took. Babbitt sat in that extra chair, awkwardly facing Widow and Keagan, where he shot at them twice through his fluffy vest.

  A cushion exploded behind Widow, and he fired the Raging Bull. It boomed in the close quarters of the living room. It took fifty percent of Babbitt’s face clean off. The bullet struck his head to the left of his nose. His eye burst, and brain and skull fragments exploded up and out. Some of it was on the ceiling. Most of it was all over the floor, dramatically changing the color of the Spanish tiles to a deep-red mush color.

  There was a red mist left in the air. Smoke billowed out of the Raging Bull’s muzzle.

  Keagan screamed under Widow’s weight. He got off her and she leapt up. She stopped screaming and stared at the mess. She pulled her weapon, not that she needed it out, and she went over to Babbitt’s corpse. He was sprawled back on the floor. The chair had gone back with him. Most of him was still sitting in it.

  Keagan said, “Oh my God! You killed him!”

  Widow said, “Damn. I was aiming at his shoulder.”

  Garret said, “He’s not my son! He would’ve killed all of us!”

  Keagan turned to him. She kept her gun out. She asked, “Are there any others?”

  Garret said, “No. He was the only one.”

  Keagan went over to him and stared at the mess. She holstered her gun and went into Babbitt’s vest pocket where his hand was. She jerked his hand out, and the SIG Sauer P365 that was in it. The fingers were still locked around the gun. She tried to pry it free but couldn’t.

  Widow stood up, and said, “Cold dead hands and all.”

  Keagan said, “This isn’t funny. We’ve killed a man.”

  Widow said, “It was self-defense. He probably poisoned our coffees.”

  Keagan searched the rest of the body without touching any of the messier parts. She searched the pockets and came up with nothing other than the keys to the Mercedes. She left them in his pocket. There was nothing else. No cash. No identification. Nothing to help them discover who he was or who sent him.

  Keagan said, “He doesn’t even have a cell phone on him.”

  Widow said, “It’s probably in the car. It’ll be locked anyway.”

  Keagan said, “Maybe we can open it with his face. They have facial recognition now.”

  Widow said, “I doubt this guy had that feature enabled. He probably used a passcode. We won’t get in.”

  Keagan said, “But we need to know who he is. Don’t you want to put an end to this?”

  Garret said, “You don’t need to know who he is. I can tell you who they are.”

  He struggled to stand up. It was a slight ordeal, but he made it. He was old and a little slow. He pushed himself up with his hands. He walked over to Keagan and put his hand on her shoulder.

  There was a single tear in his eye. He said, “He killed my dog.”

  Keagan stopped inspecting the body and turned to him. There was nothing in her training manuals about dealing with dead dogs. But there was a section on dealing with families who’ve lost a loved one. She recalled what to do. She hugged him. He hugged her back.

  She stopped and stepped away, and Garret looked at both of them and said, “He killed my dog. He was a good dog.”

  Widow said, “I’m sorry. I like dogs.”

  Garret nodded, and said, “You ain’t got nothing to be sorry for. He killed my dog.”

  Widow said, “I’m afraid we may have led him here.”

  Garret said, “It don’t matter. He would’ve found me anyway. I’m surprised no one’s come for me after all these years till now.”

  Garret stepped over to Widow and reached down
and took the gun away. He moved Widow out of the way and told Keagan and him to both move aside. Which they did. He plopped himself down on the sofa, where Widow had sat. He raised the Raging Bull and aimed it toward the front door, over the flipped chair and the heap of dead mess that used to be Babbitt, and he said, “Cover your ears.”

  Widow and Keagan covered their ears.

  Garret fired the gun again. The gun kicked and boomed again. The second bullet exploded a hole in the wall to the front of the house. Now they could see outside.

  Keagan asked, “Why did you do that?”

  Garret said, “Soon as you all leave, I’m gonna call the police and tell them that I shot an intruder. I need to have gun residue on me. They will check. I was an officer of the law, but that was a million years ago. These young guys don’t know me. They only think of me as an old good-for-nothing who forgets things. They’ll run tests on me to make sure I’m telling the truth.”

  Keagan asked, “You remember better than you let on?”

  Garret nodded.

  Widow looked at Garret and said, “You sure about this?”

  Garret said, “It’s best that no one know you were here.”

  Keagan said, “The waitress at the diner knows we came by. But she saw us after you kicked us out earlier.”

  Garret said, “Don’t go back there. Once you leave here, just keep driving.”

  Garret motioned them to take a seat. Keagan move as far as she could from the heap and sat on the love seat. Widow took up Garret’s favorite chair. He said, “You should pour out those coffees. Don’t let them stay out when you call the cops.”

  Garret said, “I won’t.”

  Widow said, “Where’s your dog?”

  Garret looked at the back door and said, “I’ll deal with him.”

  “You sure you don’t want help burying him?” Widow asked.

  “No. He’s my responsibility,” Garret said.

  Keagan asked, “Do you know Kloss?”

  Garret said, “I don’t know him. But I know why you’re here. Before I go any further, you should know you’re dealing with a lowdown horror show of a man.”

  Keagan said, “We read that Ruffalo killed two FBI agents, but we don’t know any of the details.”