Final Target

by Jack Young

  Joe smiled at Darcy. She was more optimistic than he was about the case. He also smiled because she knew how to keep him balanced between work and home. When Joe first became a detective, he had difficulties keeping the things he saw on the job from intruding on his homelife. He had restless nights, moments of intense reactions to the kids’ behaviors, and even trouble performing in bed with Darcy. The department offered psychiatric services, but Joe didn’t want to see the “head shrinker” as everyone called the doctor. Darcy made a deal with him that he could tell her everything and it would all be off the record unless he initiated an “interview.” He took her up on her offer and it helped. Not all the time, but things were much better than how they were.

  Everyone was finished with their breakfast and finishing their morning routines before leaving for school and work when Joe’s cell phone buzzed. It was Jacobs. “Papa Bear. What’s up?”

  “You on your way to the station?”

  “Two minutes and I’m out the door. Why?”

  “A guy I know found Gordon.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I’m at that shitty hotel downtown, the Starlight Inn.”

  Joe looked at his kids gathering to say goodbye for the day. “Give me a few minutes to see the kids off to school and I’ll be down there.”

  “Okay. There’s no hurry. This guy’s not going anywhere any time soon.”

  Joe didn’t like the sound of that. He ended the call and turned to his children and hugged them each individually and kissed them on the tops of their heads. “Be good, learn a lot, and have fun at school.” Beth giggled and the boys grumbled and went out to Darcy’s car. She was next for her goodbye kiss. “Doesn’t sound good, babe.”

  “No. It doesn’t.”

  She nodded. “You just be careful. I love you.”

  Joe smiled and repeated one of his favorite movie lines, “I know.”

  The Starlight Inn was one of several no-tell motels in town. This wasn’t the first time Joe had to go there to conduct official police business and when he arrived, two squad cars were parked near the office; Jacobs’ car was between the two. He was trying to think of the last time he’d been summoned to this hotel and the only thing he could think of was about two years before. That was for a double overdose situation which was determined an accident and not a homicide. It was just after eight and less than twenty-four hours since the shooting in the Heights. Not only did Joe have a restless night, he could tell his day was going to be long and busy.

  Jacobs was talking to who Joe assumed was the desk manager in the office. The woman behind the desk looked a little older than Joe, but one could never really tell sometimes. She could’ve been ten years younger than him for all he knew. She was neither white nor black and if Joe had to guess she was Native American which made sense because there were two reservations within an hour of town. When Joe entered the office, both Jacobs and the woman looked at him. Jacobs pointed to Joe. “This is my partner, Detective Thompson.”

  The woman nodded once in Joe’s direction and he returned the nod. He looked around the office and noticed it was fairly neat which surprised him because the other times he’d been there it wasn’t. Nothing seemed out of order and the woman didn’t seem the least bit upset about anything.

  Joe stood back while Jacobs thanked the woman for her time. He waved Joe outside and Joe followed. Jacobs had both hands on his hips and leaned back stretching his body. Joe could hear bones cracking as his partner let out a deep breath. “Lady says someone from the room called her.”

  “Someone inside the room?”

  “What she said.”

  “Man? Woman?”

  “She said it was a man who called asking for more towels and when she got to the room the door was half-opened.”

  “I take it she went inside.”

  “Yes and no. She said she just knocked before announcing herself and then opened the door all the way. The body was right there in front of the bed, between that and the TV.”

  “That’s when she called 911?”

  “Yeah. I called you as soon as I arrived and did the once over on the room. Checked the vic’s ID.”

  “Curtis Gordon?”

  “Yep.”

  Joe nodded and pointed towards the room indicating for his partner to lead.

  The Starlight Inn was a motel in which all the rooms were entered from the outside via the parking lot. The room with the victim was Number 18 and two uniformed cops stood outside of it. One of the officers was one who had been on the force longer than Joe and the other a female officer who was actually his uniform replacement when he was promoted to detective. Both nodded as the two detectives arrived at the room. The female officer opened the door for them to enter.

  Except for the body on the floor, nothing about the room indicated anyone was even staying in there. Joe noticed there wasn’t luggage anywhere as he pointed around the room. “The lady at the desk say anything about who paid for the room?”

  “She wasn’t on duty when the room was paid for. The receipt said the room was paid for in cash, too. We might have to talk to whoever was working then.”

  “So, there are still hotels that just take cash.” Joe laughed a little to himself.

  “Yeah. Hell, this place has rooms for rent at an hourly rate for when a person needs a little boom boom without breaking the bank.”

  Joe nodded and then shook his head laughing a little more. “I see. Was this room one of those?”

  “No. Those rooms are on the backside where a passerby coming down the street can’t see. This room was paid for an entire night under the name ‘Joseph Kerr.’”

  Joe chuckled. “Really? They actually used that name?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “You ever read comic books growing up?”

  “I did, but obviously not as much as you. Why?”

  “I saw that name appear a few times reading Batman comics.”

  Jacobs nodded as it began to set in. “I think I get it now. Joseph Kerr. Joe Kerr.”

  “Yep.”

  “Joker.”

  “Yep.”

  Jacobs shook his head and smiled a little. “Whoever did this must think they’re pretty funny.”

  “Maybe. Got you to smile a bit.”

  “Yeah it did.”

  Joe took a step into the room. “Let me take a look at things.”

  Jacobs nodded and pointed to the inside of the room. Everything was as Jacobs mentioned a moment before. There was nothing in the room, but the body. No luggage. The TV remote sat next to the TV on the large dresser on the other side of the body. There was nothing suspect in the bathroom. In fact, the complimentary soap bars hadn’t been opened. The toilet paper still had the little fold that housekeeping did when cleaning the bathroom. Joe ventured back into the room and lifted the sheet covering the body. There was a middle-aged white man underneath. He had a single gunshot wound in the middle of his forehead. Joe pointed to the body. “You see what I don’t see?”

  “Yep. Tell me though.”

  Joe pointed to the body and around where the head was on the floor. “There’s no blood anywhere except right under the head and that’s probably from lying there at the moment.”

  “I saw that, too.”

  “He wasn’t killed here.”

  “That’s also correct.”

  “Any idea where?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Alright. We need to get the ball moving quicker on this shit before more dead bodies show up around town.”

  “Roger that, partner.”

  12.

  Davy blew on the hot cup of coffee while his mother fried some eggs and bacon on the stove. He couldn’t remember the last meal he’d had at his mother’s house. It had to have been around two years he figured. Life was the shits while he grew up there and he couldn’t wait to move out. So much so, that he moved out when he was seventeen and lived with a friend his senior year.

  School just wasn’t his thing either
after he killed his first man. He began getting small jobs from Big John here and there which paid well for only being a teenager. That money interested him more than school. The only reason he stuck it out and graduated was because he promised his grandmother. She made him promise he get his diploma in order for her to side with him convincing his mother (her daughter) to let him move out. So, he finished school. His grades weren’t the best, but that was more because he didn’t give a shit. He learned more from Big John.

  Davy’s mother, Dottie, scraped a heaping amount of eggs and bacon onto the plate in front of him. “You lurking around the house because you need something?” She topped off his cup of coffee as well.

  When she was finished, Davy began squeezing ketchup onto his eggs. “No. Not really. I thought Orrin had something of mine in his car, but I couldn’t find it. No biggie.”

  Dottie leaned against the counter next to the stove. She, too, was drinking a cup of coffee. “You seem in a hurry, David. You goin’ somewhere?”

  He washed some eggs down with his coffee and shook his head. “No. I mean, eventually probably, you know. I’ve been trying to leave this shithole of a town for years.”

  He shrugged and continued eating, Davy had many chances, actually, to leave over the years, but everytime he had thoughts of leaving something came up where he was needed to stick around. Usually, it was something to do with Orrin or their mother. Davy rarely kept most of the money he was paid for the jobs Big John gave him. Somehow, the majority of that money ended up on his mother’s doorstep. Usually in an envelope with several money orders or prepaid debit cards. Never too much, though, but just enough to help her with bills. He, himself, rarely splurged on any of the money he was paid anymore. Big John taught him that one of the biggest and best ways to keep the heat off of him was to never appear as if he was living above his means. Everyone in town knew Davy and knew he didn’t come from money, and to appear as if he had it would draw suspicion. It was another reason he worked at the store and lived where he did.

  In regards to his relationship with his mother, it wasn’t as if he didn’t get along with her. Davy just needed his space to be on his own. He had a hard time being around his mother and around home after the first time he killed someone. The man he killed was her boyfriend, Connor. To this day, she didn’t know it was Davy who killed him and if she did, she never let on that she knew.

  Davy didn’t mind Connor most of the time. In fact, he was kind of happy when his mother told him and Orrin she was marrying Connor. It was going to be nice having a man around as Davy began wondering about life and other things. He did have his friends from school who he could talk to, but they were young and he wasn’t sure he could talk to them about some things. Although, he did have one good friend he could count on, his friend, Alex.

  Alex’s parents seemed rich to Davy. They lived in a fancy neighborhood and in a big house. Alex’s father was some kind of businessman. Davy never found out what that business was until later. Davy spent a ton of time at Alex’s house. It was a place where he always felt welcomed and no one ever yelled or threw things at each other. In fact, he never saw Alex’s parents fight.

  When Davy was in the eighth grade and had just come back from a two-week break for Christmas, things began to get tense at home. Connor was pissed all the time and started yelling around at Dottie for no reason. He would apologize later saying it was just stuff from work. Davy never really knew where Connor worked, not that he would tell Davy anyway. Besides the yelling, Davy also didn’t like how Connor was treating his mother. He began talking down to her, bossing her around, and shoving her. This didn’t sit well with Davy.

  Dottie had her own problems making ends meet. Her job at the local K-Mart cut her hours a bit and she tried to find other work, but couldn’t find anyone in the evening willing to watch Orrin and Davy. Davy insisted he could take care of Orrin, but she didn’t like the idea of the two of them home alone. One night at dinner, she asked Connor if he could help with some of the bills seeing as how he stayed there most of the time and they were planning on getting married. “We’ll have a joint account then, so it would be nice to get a little help with my rent now.”

  Connor was in the middle of chewing some of the meatloaf Dottie made for dinner, and turned to look at her. He washed the food down with a swallow from the can of beer he was drinking. “What’s this ‘joint account’ shit?”

  Dottie set her fork with food still on it down on her plate. “We’re getting married. Doesn’t that mean our incomes will be one?”

  “What’s this ‘our’ bullshit, too? I don’t see your name on my paychecks. I, not you, earned that money and I’ll use that money for what I want to use it on.”

  “But, we’ll be living together.”

  “I know. I’ll help whenever, but don’t you start thinking that my money is yours.”

  “My parents shared an account. I shared one with Craig.”

  Craig was Davy and Orrin’s father who was a truck driver. He died in a wreck during a severe snowstorm when Orrin was a baby. It took Dottie years to get over Craig’s death and when she did, Connor was the first and only man she dated. Davy’s uncle, Dan, told her she was just being clingy because she missed having a guy around and was too scared to be alone again. She was the one who pushed Connor into marriage by insisting on it everytime they slept together. He never forced himself on her to Davy’s knowledge, but he did hear Dottie tell a friend once that if he didn’t propose she wouldn’t sleep with him anymore.

  “Well, your dad was a jackass for sharing his money with a woman. Your deadass husband, too. A man’s hard-earned money belongs to him and no one else.”

  “But the boys and I are drowning here and we sure could use some help. So, please, as a favor to me, could you pay this month’s rent?”

  “How much is the rent?”

  “Five fifty.”

  Connor laughed and shook his head. “No fucking way. Naw, you’re gonna have to take care of that for yourself.”

  “But you stay here three, four times a week.”

  “And?”

  “You eat our food. Use our water…”

  “What’s your point?”

  “You practically live here. You should help. I’ve paid your rent a couple of times for you. You weren’t too goddamn proud of your money then. You’re just staying here like some kind of hobosexual.”

  Connor stood. “What did you call me?”

  “A hobosexual. It means getting into relationships and living off the woman until you get tired of them and then move on to the next one to mooch off of.”

  “Whatever, babe.”

  “Don’t ‘babe’ me.”

  “Babe…”

  “No! That’s it. I’m sick of how you just stay here and don’t help. Is this how it’s gonna be when we’re married? This place is good enough for you to stay at, but you won’t help? What about me? I have to deal with your moods and comments about my cooking, the house, how I look. You’re just using me. Using my house when you feel like it. Fucking me when you want to…”

  Connor backhanded Dottie across her face. “Shut up! Where do you get off talking to me that way? Huh?”

  Davy jumped out of his chair and went to his mother. The backhanded slap was enough to split both of her lips. He turned to Connor, but Connor was standing over him already. “What are you gonna do you little pissant motherfucker?”

  Davy began to stand, but Connor punched him square in the jaw. Davy lost consciousness. When he came to, the house was quiet save for the subtle whimpering he heard from his mother’s bedroom. Davy opened the door and saw his mother holding Orrin. “Mom?”

  Dottie had her back to him and turned to where he could see her face all beaten up. Davy felt his body heat rise. He started to turn and leave, but Orrin called to him. He turned and saw his five-year-old brother bleeding from his mouth and both of his eyes swollen shut. Davy went to Orrin. “Oh my god, Orrin. Did he do this to you?”

  Orrin starte
d crying louder. Davy looked at his mother. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know. He just now left.”

  “We need to call the police, Mom.”

  “No. He’ll just come back somehow and be even more angry.”

  “We have to do something.”

  “Leave it alone, David.”

  “He’ll be back tonight. I’m sure of it. He’ll want to finish what he started. We need to leave.”

  “Where? We don’t have any money for a hotel.”

  Davy thought about it a moment and picked up the phone next to his mother’s bed. He dialed a number and the call was answered immediately. “Hello?”

  “Alex. I need help.”

  Thirty minutes later, Alex arrived with his father in their Suburban. No one said a word climbing into the vehicle or on the ride to Alex’s house. Alex’s mother, Gayle, took Dottie and Orrin upstairs to a room and Alex’s father, Sean, led Davy outside to where the family pool was. “Is this the first time this has happened?”

  Davy nodded. “Yeah. I think so. At least in front of me.”

  “And you’re pissed about it?”

  “Shit yes. I am.”

  “I know Connor Jones. He’s a foreman at one of my warehouses on the south end of town. He’s a fuck up and has cost me money over the years.”

  “Why do you keep him around then?”

  “His dad saved my dad in ‘Nam and Dad hired him, so I felt obligated to keep him on. But, you know, Davy, he’ll just keep doing this. The law will only do so much.”

  “What do I do then?”

  Sean waved Davy over to a shed next to the pool’s changing room. Inside was an arsenal. There were various types of handguns, rifles, and machine guns. Sean pointed to them. “Pick one.”

  “Why?”

  “Pick one and take care of that bastard. I’d do it for you because you’ve been such a great friend to Alex, but this is your family and your business.”

  Davy stared at the walls adorned with weaponry. “What is it you do for a living Mr. Brady?”

  “I’m just a simple businessman, Davy.”