Copyright 2014 Varun Vashist
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This is a work of fiction and Author's imagination. Any resemblance to any person or event or locales is purely coincidental
Table of Content
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Afterword
Otherbooks
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A WEDDING AND A THIRTY YEAR OLD GRUDGE
When Kiara invited Jake to a family wedding, he had not thought that it will be different from any other wedding. However, he started sensing something wrong with everyone in the wedding party. Kiara shrugged it off as Jake being paranoid, but Jake persisted.
Is Jake going to find out anything or is it a mere hunch? Or Kiara's fear of Jake creating a trouble in the marriage will come true?
Sign up for author's New release mailing list and get a free copy of latest novella - Wrong One - The Davenport Mysteries
Chapter 1
Blood flushed Kiara Davenport’s face as she was about to fire the last round. All the previous shots had hit the middle of the target and if this one hits the center, she would be able to create a new record. Actually, she will be matching the record set by her partner, Jake Carter. That reminded her. “Where the hell is Jake?” She glanced at her watch. It was five to seven.
She did not have much time to think. She had one shot and five minutes left before her private time at the range ended. With that thought, she lifted her pistol and aimed at the target. Her finger moved towards the trigger, but stopped midway.
“Why the hell he is not here?” she murmured, though it was more of a yell under the earmuffs. “He won’t believe I’ve matched his record.”
She looked at the watch again: she had only one minute left. She closed her eyes for a moment and then looked at the target.
As the sound of the shot echoed across the range, so did her loud grunt. She missed the record by a whisker. More than her missing the target, she was angry with Jake. She removed her earmuffs and then her earplugs. She was about to throw them on the floor when the door opened.
“Hey Davenport, where is your loser partner?” Bob smirked while forcing himself through the door. She always wondered how he was able to keep his job with that 250-pound frame of his. Every time he said something, she would be looking at the way his belly juggled. Today was no different either.
“What?” That’s all she could say. Bob shook his head and walked towards the other end.
She walked towards her bag and pulled out her phone. Her hands were still trembling from the rush of blood shooting had brought to them. She was about to dial Jake’s number when she felt Bob’s eyes on her. He pointed at his pistol and then at his earmuffs.
“All right, I am leaving,” she said in angst and barged out of the door.
She walked towards the shower room still thinking about Jake. She called him, but there was no response from the other side. This infuriated her. She dialed one more time but again the same result. Now she was at her wits end. “Where the hell is he?”
Jake and Kiara had been partners for the last two years. Though they were not answerable to each other, Tuesdays were different. They never missed their shooting practice. It was the only way to channel the frustration of the gag order put on them by their boss for getting too liberal with their bullet quota. Without firing bullets at the suspects for a whole week, they felt as if their hands had been put on a leash. Tuesday evening was the only time of the week when they could actually feel the adrenaline rush that would keep them going for the remainder of the week.
Half an hour later, she was driving to her apartment still thinking about Jake. She thought of calling him one more time, but he had not called back and that made her even angrier. She tossed the phone towards the back seat.
“Don’t even think about that,” Jake roared at the thug choking under his grip who was trying to reach out to the iron rod lying a few feet away. There was not a single soul in the vicinity. Garbage trucks were lined up at the far corner, blocking any view of the main street. Streetlights covered the turn where he had parked his motorcycle. Jake tried, but could not avoid glancing at it. He hated dogs and one was checking the rear tire now. Jake resisted, but as the dog lifted his leg and was about to take aim, he could not stop himself and took a can lying nearby, throwing it towards the dog.
This distraction was enough for the thug. With his arm free, he punched Jake right at his nose. There was a momentarily darkness followed by the sound of footsteps. By the time Jake came to his senses the thug had already crossed his motorcycle and was running towards the garbage trucks.
Jake jumped on the iron rod and with all the precision he aimed at his legs. There was a groan followed by a large thud. Not only did Jake hurt his leg, the thug hit his head on the loading hopper. Jake jumped in exhilaration, as if he had shot a three pointer.
“That’s the shooting practice for today,” he said while walking towards his target. His nose was bleeding but right now his concentration was about breaking the thug’s bones.
“I don’t know anything,” the thug pleaded as Jake dragged him towards the streetlight.
“Not for very long, my friend. You will remember everything in a moment,” he said while bringing the cuffs out of his pocket.
“I just run a small gift shop,” he pleaded further, his breathing ragged with fear. “I don’t know who left the box of antiques outside my shop.”
“Two rounds around the block will be a jog down memory lane,” Jake said while cuffing him to the rear seat step. “I got this specially installed for folks like you.”
A chill ran down the thug’s spine and his face got covered with cold sweat. “You … you are not doing right. This is illegal.”
His words fuelled Jake’s anger. He took the keys out of his pocket and started the ignition. The thug closed his eyes and started murmuring a prayer.
Jake looked at him and grinned. “There’s still time before we go on the drive.”
“I … I really don’t know anything,” he cried, the words barely coming out of his mouth.
“Then, you have not left me with any choice,” Jake said in mocking tone while giving the throttle.
“I’ve had enough of both of you,” Special Agent in Charge Carlson roared.
“But, I wasn’t with him,” Kiara reasoned.
Her words made no difference to him. He kept walking across the room frantically.
“Where is he?” he asked while looking at the door. “You too are beyond any reasoning. No rules apply to you.”
“Again, I was not with him,” Kiara said firmly.
“Shut up,” Carlson snarled.
“But—” She did not get the hint.
“Don’t test my patience,” he said, cutting her off. His eyes were burning with anger.
Their concentration was broken by the knock at the door. Jake entered and stepped up to Carlson’s desk. He glanced at Kiara, who looked back with a hint of anger. He ignored her and clutched his hands behind his back.
Carlson moved opposite to him. “Look at you. What is the difference between you and the criminals?” He said while pointing at the bandage across Jake’s nose. Jake heard a little chuckle from Kiara.
“Sir, I was doing my job,” Jake said firmly. There was not an ounce of remorse in his voice, and that irked Carlson further.
“What job?!” he shouted with all the energy his fifty-year-old self had. “You gave the poor guy head trauma. He will not recover from it for the rest of his life.”
“But, he wasn’t telling anything.” Jake was not into taking hints either.
“About what?” Carlson looked at both. Kiara looked down, evading the question. Carlson’s eyes moved towards Jake. “Carter, I’m asking you.”
Carlson rarely called people by their last name. Kiara knew Jake was in big trouble. She hoped he would take the hint and apologize.
“The package of antiques,” Jake replied. Kiara closed her eyes in exasperation.
“Where did you find the package?!” Carlson shouted. Jake understood where the conversation was going, but it was too late to take the hint now. Nevertheless, he kept quiet.
“I asked, where did you find the package!” he shouted again.
“Outside his shop,” Jake replied softly. Again a chuckle came from Kiara.
“Was the shop open at that time?” he asked further.
“No, but …” Jake tried to reason.
“Does this give you the right to beat him to pulp?” Carlson asked.
There was a momentary silence. Carlson kept looking at both and then crashed on his chair.
“I can’t cover for you two anymore,” he said in frustration.
Jake looked at Kiara. She tried to avoid him, but he urged her. She heaved a sigh and turned towards Carlson, who was looking down.
“Sir, this won’t happen again. I guarantee for Jake,” she said, pretending to be guilty.
Carlson shook his head. “No … no. You have tested my patience enough.”
With that, he turned towards Jake. “You need a break. That’s the only way I can handle the pressure from the top. Even I am answerable to higher authorities.”
“What?” Jake said immediately. “Are you sending me on leave?”
“Yes, it will help you assess what you have done to the department’s reputation.” Carlson was not going to budge. “And, it will give me some breathing space.”
Jake was stunned and so was Kiara. All the chuckles had evaporated from her face. They did not know how to digest this. But Carlson was not finished yet.
“And you … Davenport … you also need to cool your heels,” he said firmly, addressing Kiara by her last name. “I am transferring you to a desk job. You’re going to help Bob with all the information he needs for his cases.”
Now it was Jake’s time to chuckle. He had forgotten about his punishment.
“Sir … Please send me on leave too, but don’t clip my wing … please,” she pleaded for real this time.
“You can leave your guns at the front desk,” he said and then walked towards the window.
“Sir …” Kiara tried one more time.
“Dismissed,” came a dry reply. “Meet me in a month’s time.”
They stood there for a moment, but when Carlson did not turn, they knew there was nothing much that could be done. Jake shook his head and came out. Kiara looked at Carlson for one last time before following him.
Kiara sat on her chair, her face buried in her palms. Jake was sitting at the table opposite to her.
“It’s not that bad, partner,” Jake mocked her.
“Don’t call me partner,” she retorted. “Don’t you have any shame for what you have done to me?”
“What?” he said. “You know very well that had I called you, you would have been with me too.”
Kiara nodded, knowing that Jake was right. She would have been more than happy breaking a few bones too. Her anger left her for a moment.
“So, what’s next?” she asked. “What are you planning to do?”
There was a momentary silence. Jake had in fact not thought about it. He used to spend most of his days at his desk or in the field. His one-room apartment was a mere excuse for getting six hours of sleep. He had no other interests. What was he going to do for a whole month? He turned towards Kiara.
“What next? What should I do?” he said tersely.
Both were stumped. Kiara answered, “You can’t hang out at the office. He’ll fire you if you showed your face here.”
“I could go undercover and collect information,” he proposed.
“The way you collect information, they will come to know immediately and you may end up behind bars with your suspects,” Kiara said firmly.
Jake knew she was right. Carlson meant every word when he said: he had to go on leave. Any wrong step and he could lose his job.
“But I can’t just coop up in my apartment and keep reading about the crime in the papers,” he rued. “It will kill me.”
There was silence for a moment. “Why don’t you go to your parent’s cabin for some time?”
Jake looked at her in disbelief. She nodded and urged him to think it over. He took the chair opposite the desk and opened a folder in his computer. It had the images of the cabin. He practically felt the cool breeze hitting his face, remembering the summer vacation he had there once.
His father was not a rich man, but he wanted to be one—or pretended like one. Once, during summer vacation, he had taken the three of them to a surprise holiday. His mother was against his extravagant nature, always worrying about their future. And that seemed to be her fear during the whole ride to the lakefront cabin. Throughout the weekend she kept asking him about the owner of the cabin and how he could afford to pay the rent, but he kept telling her not to worry.
Jake was oblivious to their fighting. He had liked the view of the mountains adorning the lake so much that he spent the whole time walking around the lake. Suddenly, on Sunday afternoon, his mother barged out of the cabin with her bags. His father followed her and tried to convince her, but she was inconsolable. The next thing he remembered was getting dragged to the car. He was too scared to ask anything. He kept looking at the cabin till they entered the mountain pass and the lake went out of his sight.
They must have gone a few miles ahead when all of sudden, his father stopped the car and told Jake to step out. Both kept fighting and finally, his father slapped his mother to end the discussion. Once everything went quiet, he started the car, forgetting about Jake. Suddenly, he remembered that he had left his son behind and looked back. The momentary lapse of concentration made him lose the control of the car and it skid off the turn, plummeting a hundred feet. Jake did what an eight-year-old could do, but there was nothing left to be saved.
His father had made no will. There was actually nothing to be willed to him except the cabin. He had put all his life’s savings in it.
Since then, he hated the cabin and the idea of visiting it. He lived with Aunt Mary till he was capable of making a livelihood. It was only then that he thought of going back to the cabin. After all it was the only remembrance of his parents left with him. The first visit was very painful. He spent an hour sitting at the point from where they had fallen. He vowed never to return, but once he entered the driveway to the cabin, the pain subsided a bit. The lake and mountain made him remember the most beautiful two days of his life. However, the face of his mother looking at him from the rear mirror kept haunting him.
It had been a year since then, but he still could not muster the courage to go back. However, now he did not have much choice. He could not stay in the city without breaking some thug’s bones. Aunt Mary was not alive
either. Going to the lake was a tough call, but maybe this was a chance for him to make peace with the fact that the cabin was not responsible for his parent’s death.
“Okay, I will go,” he declared, bringing Kiara back from her thoughts.
“What?” she asked with surprise.
“I will give the cabin one last shot,” he said. “If it still brings the bad memories back, I will sell it off this time.”
“Good for you,” Kiara said with a smile. Suddenly, the smile evaporated from her face.
“What happened? Missing me already?” he teased her.
She looked at him dryly. “I’m stuck here with these files, and you’re going on your fling spree.”
Jake walked to her, took her head in his palms. “You have Bob.”
She pushed him and punched in his shoulder. This made Jake laugh even louder. Bob noticed that and walked towards them. Kiara gave a disgusted look to Jake, who walked aside.
“Well, well … Davenport. So you’re going to work under me?” he mocked her and looked towards Jake, who gave a thumbs-up. Bob winked back.
“With you, not under you!” Kiara said angrily.
“We shall see,” Bob said and winked again. This angered her further. She got up and left at once.
“I’m leaving now. It’ll be a month before we meet again!” Jake shouted from behind.
She did not turn around, just waved over her shoulder. “Go to hell.”
Driving through the mountain pass pained Jake’s heart, but he noticed that it was much less painful than the last time. That’s a good first sign. The only thing that bothered him more than visiting the cabin was letting the antiques case slip out of his hand. Anyway, he was not able to make any headway either, he thought.
He stopped after the turn from where the lake became visible. It was dusk time and the golden hue covered the corners of the lake, giving it a divine look. He looked around. Most of the cabins had their lights turned on. Only his cabin looked like a sore thumb with darkness engulfing it. He had not visited the place in a year and there were many things that needed fixing. He knew his next two days were going to be spent cleaning up the mess. With that thought, he started again. It took him ten more minutes to reach his destination.
Mystery: Double Cross - The Davenport Mysteries (Suspense novel series of adventure mystery books and Crime mystery thrillers) Page 1