Jake Caldwell Thrillers

by Weaver, James

  “Thanks for coming out,” she said as they gathered in front of Bear’s Suburban. Blue jeans clung to her long legs and dropped over tan boots splashed with mud. They would be going off the beaten path. “Jake and Bear, this is Deputy Billy Blevins. He found your surprise.”

  After exchanging handshakes, Blevins took a long pull from the cup and pointed at the trailer. “Got a call early this morning someone found a body by Ashrow Creek, which is just down the hill from the trailer.”

  “Who made the call?” Jake asked.

  Blevins shrugged. “Beats me. They gave the information and hung up. My first thought was fishermen, but there are other alternatives.”

  “Such as?”

  “Moonshiners,” Katrina said. “They set up stills in the backwoods. Either way, the guy by the creek is still dead.”

  Bear ticked his head toward the creek. “Is the dead guy our surprise?”

  Katrina raised her thin eyebrows. “Yeah. Let me show you.”

  She led the way around the mobile home and split the brush covering a narrow footpath at the top of a hill. Bear regaled her with his wondrous impression of her uncle’s breakfast fare as they stepped over branches and rocks imbedded in the dirt path.

  Jake followed Katrina’s pointing finger to several instances where crimson stained the stone or wood. “Somebody was bleeding like a stuck pig,” he said. “Let me guess—our guy was killed up there and dragged here.”

  “That’s what we’re thinking,” Blevins said, moving along the path with surprising dexterity. Jake guessed he liked to hunt. “We were getting ready to canvass the clearing when you guys pulled up.”

  “Who is it?” Bear’s heavy feet pounded the terrain.

  “I don’t want to spoil the surprise.” Katrina stopped at the edge of a rippling creek, the water rushing between banks set five feet apart. She pointed ten feet, to a body lying with its feet pointed to the sky. “See if you can guess.”

  Jake stepped as wide of the body as the creek and the brush on the bank would allow. Heavy work boots, blue jeans, a flannel shirt and the reason why Katrina suggested they skip breakfast.

  The head was a bloody mess of tissue and bone, beaten unrecognizable. The man’s nose lay at an unnatural angle, and his eyes bulged to a garish degree, reminding Jake of a cartoon character spotting a hot girl. He squatted and studied what he could make out from the mess but came up snake eyes.

  “Any guesses?” Katrina asked from behind him.

  Bear groaned. “Aw shit, don’t tell me it’s Delbert.”

  “Nope.”

  Jake scanned from the long, blood-matted hair, along the man’s tattooed arms, and to the dirt-crusted hand reaching for the clear waters of the creek. He noticed the blue ink across the fingers spelling the name “Rose.”

  Jake clucked his tongue. “This is Grady Harlan, Shane’s cellmate.”

  Blevins whistled. “Give the man a cigar. How’d you know? We just got the fingerprint match right before Hurricane called you.”

  “Who?”

  Blevins blushed. “Sorry, I meant before Katrina called you.”

  “The name tattooed on the knuckles,” Jake said, ticking his head to the body. “Assistant Warden in Jeff City said Harlan tattooed his dead wife’s name on his fingers after he killed her.”

  Bear snapped his fingers. “Son of a bitch. That’s right. You know, you might make a good cop one of these days, Caldwell.”

  “You should try it sometime.”

  “Asshole.”

  Jake popped a mint in his mouth to fight the smell rising from the body. He had no doubts Shane killed Grady, and a shiver of revulsion rattled his frame as he envisioned Maggie on the ground instead of Grady. He forced the image from his brain and focused. Shane went from Jeff City, a hundred miles west to Clinton and now a hundred and forty miles south to Branson. Almost a triangle if he headed back toward Warsaw. But what in the hell was he doing down here?

  Katrina stepped around the body toward the clearing. “You ready for surprise number two?”

  Jake considered the question. “Is it worse than this one?”

  “Depends on your perspective. Follow me.”

  They trekked back through the grass to the trailer, and Katrina led the way inside after they all applied boot covers and gloved up. Jake winced at the stale cigarette odor clinging to dingy trailer walls and the dusty remnants of white powder on a cable spool serving as a coffee table. She pointed to the back of the trailer, and Jake and Bear slid along the narrow hall.

  “Sweet Mary Mother Joseph,” Bear whispered.

  Jake edged closer, swallowing back the lump in his throat. The dead woman on the bed had been a looker. Long, midnight black hair lay against the dirty mattress. Sharp, angular cheekbones and ice blue eyes cast a lifeless gaze to the popcorn ceiling. Naked, she had the figure of an athlete, though the pale gray skin of a dead one. Dark, purple bruises crowded her neck.

  Bear angled his head, looking close at the bruises. “Who is she?”

  Katrina leaned against the doorjamb, eyes locked on the floor. “Beats me. We’re checking missing person’s reports, but no hits yet. Once the crime scene techs get here, we’ll get a picture and circulate. Don’t think she’s from here, though.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Check her right ankle.”

  Jake slipped to the side of the bed. A black ink tattoo with a strange string of letters in a vertical line inked the skin on the outside of her ankle. “What is it?”

  “Russian.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Took it in high school. The letters spell the word ‘loved.’”

  Bear blew out a breath. “Not by the guy who did this. Wonder if it was Shane or Grady?”

  “Hell, maybe both,” Blevins offered.

  Jake stepped backwards. “We should go roust Delbert at the hotel. If the body by the creek was Shane’s running mate, I’m going to guess he’s the one who bashed his head in like a melon and dragged the body down there. No telling which one of them killed the woman here. Given the circumstances, I don’t think it’s a coincidence Shane’s in this neck of the woods.”

  Bear scanned the room. “I don’t either. Let’s go talk to the guy.”

  Katrina and Blevins coordinated next steps as they made their way to their respective cars. Two additional squad cars pulled into the clearing. Blevins would stay with the body and work with the additional cops, and Katrina would go with Jake and Bear to the Eazy Breezy. Katrina gave the new guys a quick rundown and headed toward her truck while talking on her cell.

  “Follow me into town,” she said, slipping her phone into her pocket. “My guy at the hotel said Delbert hasn’t stirred and nobody’s come to the room.”

  Jake climbed into the passenger side of Bear’s Suburban and bent out the open window. “Hey, why’d he call you Hurricane?”

  She scolded Jake with smoldering eyes, reminding him of Maggie’s when Jake left the toilet seat up. “Don’t ask and don’t call me that.” She threw her truck in drive and spit gravel from the rear as she tore out of the clearing.

  Bear snickered as he followed her. “You old smoothie, Caldwell. You sure know how to talk to the ladies.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The Eazy Breezy lived up to Jake’s expectations of a rent-by-the-week motel. Sky blue doors adorned with gold numbers nailed above peepholes offset the blandness of the painted tan brick. A concrete stairway bordered by a chipped paint railing snaked to the second floor where a diminutive maid in a peach uniform pushed a cart stacked with towels and cleaning supplies. Katrina parked in a spot by the base of the stairs, and Bear pulled the Suburban adjacent. A rangy cop in an identical uniform strode toward them, sleep deprivation etched on his long face. The night watchman.

  Katrina squinted into the mid-morning sun, focusing on a door on the second floor above them. “Jake and Bear, this is Deputy Wallace. He’s still in there, right?”

  Wallace tipped his wide
-brimmed hat to Jake and Bear. “He swung through the Wendy’s drive through on the way home from work. Lights went out at eleven thirty. Nobody in, nobody out.”

  The war between Jake’s heart and head tore at his psyche. His heart longed to lunge up the stairs, pounce on Delbert and beat him bloody until he revealed what he knew about Shane’s whereabouts and plans. His head warned him that, if Delbert was a contact for Shane, busting him could sever the link and put the good guys that much farther away from catching Shane.

  Jake turned and scanned the parking lot and street, imagining Shane in a car or behind a tree, watching and waiting for the chance to make his move. Even the prospect of it quickened Jake’s pulse. He wanted this thing over and Shane six feet under, because every minute Shane ran around loose was a minute those Jake loved most were in danger. Keeping Maggie and Halle safe was all that mattered.

  Bear read the tension in Jake’s face. “What’s up, partner? You okay?”

  Jake blew out a breath and nodded. “Just second guesses flying through my head about Delbert. I’d love to sit on him and see what happens, but I’d hate to burn more time and resources on the hopes Langston’s going to just show up at the motel.”

  “So you’re good?”

  “I’d really like to check his cell phone and see if old Delbert’s received any calls. Plus, maybe we’ll get lucky and find something in the room.”

  Katrina asked Wallace to stay on the ground before she climbed the stairs with Jake and Bear on her tail. At the top, she swung to the right and stopped at the third door. A half-inch gap in the curtains covering the window revealed nothing but darkness. Bear hung behind her as Jake took up a position on the opposite side of the door. He glanced at the maid with the cart but didn’t have to say a word. She grasped the situation and left her cart in the middle of the walkway, quick stepping around the corner.

  Katrina knocked on the door with her left hand and placed her right on the butt of the Glock on her hip. “Housekeeping.” When nobody answered, she repeated the process.

  A muffled voice dripping with dreams sounded through the door. “Go away. Don’t need nothin’.”

  Katrina rapped on the door again. “Housekeeping, please.”

  Something crashed to the floor, and a light splashed through the crack in the curtains. Seconds later, the door flew open and Delbert’s hand shielded his half-opened eyes against the glare of the mid-morning sunlight.

  Katrina pushed him back into the room, which reeked of stale smoke, fast food, and body odor. “Morning, Delbert. Mind if we come in?”

  “What the fuck is this?” Delbert asked, his eyes awake now as three strangers crowded into the room. A queen bed lay in shambles against a nightstand adorned with an overflowing ashtray and half-crumpled beer cans. Past a round table for two, an unused kitchenette led to a bathroom, and while Delbert threw a grungy wife beater t-shirt over his boxers, Jake checked the bathroom. Empty.

  “Taney County Sheriff’s Department, Delbert. We need to ask you a few questions.”

  Delbert plopped on the bed. “About what?”

  “Where’s Shane Langston?”

  Delbert scrubbed his face with his hands as if clearing the cobwebs. Judging from the beer cans and the empty whiskey bottle on the floor, Jake guessed either all his synapses weren’t firing at the moment or he was stalling. “Who?”

  “Your old cellmate at the JCCC, dumbass.” Bear grabbed a chair from the table and dropped so he and Delbert sat eye to eye.

  “Oh, him. Ain’t the crazy asshole still locked up?” Delbert lit a cigarette and settled back against the headboard.

  Katrina waved away the smoke. “Jesus, put that thing out. Don’t you watch the news?”

  Delbert took another drag and dropped the butt into an empty beer can. “I look like the kinda guy who watches the news?”

  Bear leaned forward; eyes narrowed. “You look like the kind of guy who’s gonna get his ass kicked if he don’t answer some questions.”

  Delbert shot his eyes at the three of them. “Don’t ya’ll need a warrant?”

  “You invited us in.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “We have three people who say otherwise.”

  As Delbert bantered with his partners, Jake scanned the closet and the pile of clothes on the floor between the bed and the wall. Nothing but dirty jeans, flannel shirts, shit-stained underwear and a leather vest. Jake slid to the side of the bed and prodded the pile of clothes with his foot, terrified some disease would crawl up his pant leg.

  “How about Barney Combs?” Bear asked. “Name ring a bell?”

  “He was a guard in our house.”

  “What do you mean was?”

  “Huh?”

  “You said he was a guard in your house meaning he’s not anymore.”

  Confusion clouded Delbert’s face. Jake wasn’t sure if it was because Delbert realized he shouldn’t know Combs was dead or if he was just an idiot.

  “Was a guard, is a guard, what difference does it make?”

  Katrina piped in. “Heard from him?”

  “Why in the fuck would I talk to him?”

  Jake reached across the bed and smacked Delbert on the forehead. “Watch the language, dickhead, and answer the lady’s question.”

  Delbert narrowed his eyes at Jake. “Wait, you guys with the Sheriff’s Department, too?” When Jake grabbed Delbert by the collar and raised his clenched fist, Delbert shrank back against the bed and threw his hands up. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I haven’t talked to the guy since I got out.”

  Delbert’s eyes dipped for a microsecond as he made the statement. Jake played enough poker to recognize the tell and swallowed the urge to break Delbert’s face. “He’s lying.”

  Katrina folded her arms. “I saw it too. See, the thing is, Delbert, we found your cell number in Barney Combs’s house. Now, explain to me how that could happen.”

  Delbert chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes darting as he tried to generate enough of an electrical charge in his muddled brain to come up with a plausible answer. Surprisingly, he said the exact thing he should have said. “I got no idea and since you ain’t got no warrant, I think I’m gonna have to ask you to leave or I call my attorney.”

  Bear huffed. “The fuck you have an attorney.”

  “Sure do. Got him on retender.”

  “You mean retainer?”

  “Yeah, one of them.”

  Bear glowered like he’d reached the boiling point Jake already attained. As Jake moved toward the foot of the bed, the toe of his boot kicked something hard. He dropped to a knee and lifted the thin bed skirt, his chin high as he pulled out a .38 Special by the butt.

  Jake raised the gun between two fingers. “Ladies and gentlemen, lookee what we have here.”

  Bear patted Delbert on the shoulder. “I do believe this is what you call a parole violation.”

  “Ain’t mine,” Delbert groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. “Besides, this is what you call illegal search and seizure. I got rights.”

  Katrina slipped a pair of handcuffs from her belt. “You’re absolutely correct, Delbert. You do have rights. For starters, you have the right to remain silent.”

  They hauled a cuffed Delbert to the parking lot and shoved him in the back of Deputy Wallace’s patrol car. Jake, Bear, and Katrina huddled around the front of her truck as a bank of clouds swept across the morning sun, casting a shadow on the trio.

  Jake’s eyes swept the parking lot and narrowed at a blue sedan across the road and the figure inside. Though a couple hundred feet away, the person watched them. Jake’s hand drifted toward the gun on his hip, ready to sound the alarm and take off across the lot.

  A semi-truck on the road stopped for a moment in the heavy traffic, blocking Jake’s view, and a minute later when the truck cleared, the car was gone. Did he really see that?

  “Good catch on the gun, Jake,” Katrina said. “Maybe we can leverage the threat of going back to prison to get numb-nuts over the
re to let us check the incoming and outgoing calls. We probably have enough to get a warrant, but I’d rather have him give it up himself. Until then, we’ll seal up the room.”

  “Thanks,” Jake said, his hand settling back to his side. He tore his gaze from where the car had been. “By the way, you heard of the Blood Devils, Katrina?”

  “The biker gang? I’ve seen a handful around town. We have the Ozarks Nightriders. Had a brush-up with them on a case with a murdered girl a couple years ago. Why?”

  Jake ticked his head toward the room. “I spotted a leather vest from the Blood Devils on the side of the bed where I found the gun.”

  “They’re more out of our neck of the woods. Nasty group of shitheads.” Bear popped a dip in between his cheek and gum. “But you haven’t seen them around here?”

  She cocked her head. “Get a lot of different MCs rolling through here, but I don’t know of any chapter in the area. I’ll check around, though. You guys want to come back to the station and question Delbert with me?”

  Bear spit and checked his watch. “I would, but Jake and I should get back to home base. Delbert doesn’t look like the sharpest crayon in the box, but it might be a bit before he cracks, especially if there’s a Shane Langston threat hanging over his head and he’s lawyered up. We’ll head home and check out the Blood Devils angle and keep in touch.”

  “Sounds like a plan. It was nice working with you both. Don’t worry, we’ll get something out of Delbert one way or the other.”

  They watched her head back to the hotel and then climbed into the Suburban.