The Killing Pit : The start of an adrenaline pumping new crime series for 2021 from the author of One Last Prayer for the Rays (A Jake Pettman Thriller)

by Wes Markin

  “I just want to talk to you, Ayden,” Jake said, walking quickly to keep up.

  They were on Main Street and drawing up alongside Rogers General Store.

  “I’ve nothing to say to you. Stay away from me.”

  It was late, and no one was about. Jake kept pace until they hit a series of busted streetlights then used the sudden patch of darkness to duck and swoop in. His shoulder met Ayden’s, and he crashed side-on into the brick wall with a sharp exhalation.

  “I asked nicely,” Jake said.

  “Fuck off―”

  Jake delivered a blow to Ayden’s abdomen.

  He doubled over and went to his knees.

  Jake stepped backward and prepared for the young man’s rise, but he stayed down.

  Ayden looked up and took a few gulps of air before asking, “What do you want?”

  “I’ve made it very clear to you and your father already.”

  Ayden shook his head. “We cannot give you what we don’t have.”

  “So I keep hearing. Tell me who you really are, Ayden.”

  “What kind of fucked-up question is that?”

  “A serious one.” Jake proffered his hand.

  Ayden shook his head then reached up to take Jake’s hand.

  As Jake helped him to his feet, he said, “You’re not the same as your father. You’re not even the same as the people he employs.”

  Ayden leaned against the brick wall and shook his head. “You don’t know me.”

  “People speak highly of you, Ayden.”

  “Who?” he said with a sneer.

  “They say you’re different to your father.”

  He chortled. “Don’t listen to rumors. I’ve done awful things. I’m no different.”

  “Bollocks. If I’d just floored your father, I’d be a dead man walking.”

  Ayden eyed him. “Who’s to say you’re not?”

  Jake smiled. “No offense, Ayden, but I’m not feeling threatened by you right now.”

  Ayden snorted. “So, I’m weaker than my father. Any more compliments?”

  “You’re not weaker. You’re different. Better, like I said before. You care whether a fifteen-year-old girl lives or dies.”

  Ayden lowered his head.

  Up until now, Jake had been very confident the MacLeoids had taken Maddie; now, after witnessing the young man’s sullen reaction, he was completely certain they had. “Your father doesn’t love you.”

  Ayden looked up and glared at him. “How could you possibly know that?”

  “Because a man who takes pleasure in beating his own son doesn’t have any room left inside himself for love.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “What’s it like then, Ayden?”

  “He … He …”

  “Go on.”

  “He’s trying.”

  “To …?”

  “Help me.”

  “Was he trying to help you when he gave you that black eye and swollen cheek?”

  “He just wants me to be stronger, that’s all. His father did the same to him.”

  “He’s going to kill you. One day, he’ll go too far, and he’ll kill you.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “Believe it, Ayden. I’m a police officer. I’ve seen it time and time again. People who live with this, who accept that this is the order of things, they suffer the consequences and, sometimes, pay the ultimate price.”

  Ayden shook his head. “What do you think I can do for you?”

  “You can do the right thing. You can tell me where Maddie Thompson is, and you can help get her back to her parents.”

  “Even if I knew where she was and even if I could betray him, I wouldn’t.”

  “Why? Because you’re scared of him?”

  “No. But it’s not just about me.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  Ayden narrowed his eyes. “If I betray him, what’ll happen to my mother?”

  The bassist of Blues in the Falls was warming up. A steady plucking vibrated the air, but it didn’t drown out the sound of Piper’s heart thumping the wall of her chest.

  Marissa Thompson kissed Cole. Passionately. She gripped the back of his head with her bony hands to keep their lips forced together.

  “Go, boy!” Justin shouted, drumming his hands on the table.

  “Save some for the rest of us!” Isaac said.

  All ten patrons in the Taps watched, but no one was about to get involved.

  Piper turned to Lillian, who stood beside her in front of the bar. “We have to stop this.”

  “No argument from me there, but let me call for backup first.”

  “Your colleagues would just join in!”

  “I wasn’t talking about them. I was thinking about our mutual friend.”

  Piper nodded.

  While Lillian used her cell to summon Jake to the bar, Piper approached the stomach-churning show. As she neared, Marissa pulled away from Cole, swung her head toward Isaac and kissed him instead.

  The bass player slapped his bass harder.

  Piper felt the thumping in her chest intensify. “Stop this!”

  The bass player stopped slapping, and Justin stopped drumming. If not for Isaac’s groans under the pressure of Marissa’s lips, the place would have fallen silent.

  “Marissa, stop kissing Isaac!” Piper said.

  She ignored the request.

  Justin smiled in Piper’s direction. “Here comes the fun police.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Justin stood. “What gives you the right to talk to me like that?”

  Piper ignored him. Lillian came up alongside her and whispered, “Jake’s on his way back. Shouldn’t be more than a minute or two. He said he was onto something with Ayden.”

  Marissa broke away from Isaac, leaving his mouth red with her lipstick. The lipstick was worse on Cole; it was spread across his cheeks. Marissa stood, leaned forward and put an arm around each of their shoulders. “So, which of you two lovely young men will tell me where my Maddie is?”

  Cole and Isaac stared at one other.

  Piper wondered if they were speechless over their sexual experience with Marissa or over the suggestion that they were responsible for Maddie’s disappearance. She suspected it was a little bit of both.

  “Cole,” Marissa said, “for years, you stopped by ours for dinner after school while your mother was working. Do you remember? Could you tell me where my Maddie is?”

  “We don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cole said.

  Marissa looked at Isaac. “Is that the same for you, Isaac, dear? Isn’t your sister good friends with Maddie? Surely, you can find it in your heart to tell me where my daughter’s body is.”

  Piper steadied herself against Lillian. Body … no … no.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Thompson,” Isaac said. “I don’t know―”

  Piper stepped forward. “Please, Marissa, come into the back with me.” She eyed Justin, expecting another wisecrack, but he looked rather stunned himself. Maybe he knew nothing about Maddie. After all, he didn’t work for Jotham MacLeoid. No need to, really, when you were the son of the richest man in town.

  Marissa nodded. “Okay, Piper, dear. I’ll come. I don’t blame these two boys anyway.” Rather than turn and walk toward Piper and Lillian, Marissa sidestepped to her right and marched around the far side of the table. “No. The responsibility lies with Blue Falls, with the corruption.” She drew alongside Justin. “The cancerous filth.”

  Justin watched Marissa as she passed him but didn’t respond, nor did he turn to follow her.

  “Marissa, please,” Piper said.

  “A man like Jotham shouldn’t be allowed to do what he does. The problem is bigger than him.” Marissa stopped behind Justin, reached behind herself and appeared to be fiddling with the belt on her skirt. There was a glint―

  Piper lurched forward. “Marissa!”

  Marissa raised a kitchen knife and slammed it into Justin’s upper
back.

  Piper managed to get her arms around Marissa from behind. She offered no resistance, and Piper managed to pull her backward. They were forced to a stop at the next table along.

  Justin leaned forward with his hands on the table. The knife was stuck deep between his shoulder blades. He was groaning.

  Cole and Isaac were on their feet and coming around either side of the table to assist.

  “Jus!” Isaac shouted.

  “Jesus,” Cole said, taking hold of Justin’s arm. He turned to Lillian. “Call an ambulance!”

  Lillian was already dialling.

  Justin brushed away Cole’s hand and stumbled to the side.

  “Easy, Jus,” Isaac said.

  “Get off me,” Justin gurgled. “Both of you.”

  They were seated near the entrance, so Justin staggered forward, clearly intending to leave.

  Piper eased Marissa into a chair. Her face was blank, and her eyes stared off into space. “Wait here, Marissa.”

  Justin was still staggering toward the doors, his friends alongside him.

  “You’re hurt, Jus. You need to stop,” Isaac said.

  Cole reached again from the other side, and again, Justin brushed away his hand.

  “I’m okay. I just need some fucking air,” Justin said with a strained voice.

  Piper started after the three men. “Justin, wait.”

  Justin stopped.

  Even in this moment, she held some sway over him.

  The door to the Taps swung open. Jake marched in and halted when he realized Justin obscured his path. Jake looked around, clearly trying to comprehend what was happening, before Justin slumped forward into his arms. “What―”

  “He’s got a knife in his back, Jake,” Lillian said. “Be careful how you lay him down.”

  Justin slipped down Jake’s front.

  “Bloody hell.” Jake lowered him onto his side.

  “The ambulance is coming, Jake,” Lillian said.

  Jake knelt and put his fingers to Justin’s neck then shook his head at Lillian and Piper.

  15

  OUTSIDE THE BUILDING, Jotham waited in the front seat of his pickup. Bo stood on the passenger seat. Many vehicles surrounded him. The nights when a MacLeoid dog fought were always the busiest.

  “And rightly so,” Jotham said, allowing Bo to nuzzle him and lick his face. “Everyone wants to watch a champion.”

  At this stage, minutes before the fight, Jotham should be building Bo’s aggression, or at least sustaining the bloodlust they’d spent the day developing with rabbits. But Jotham trusted his dog. She was a fighter, like her owner, and he had no doubt she would deliver success.

  “We do this for Kayla. Then, when she’s back, I’ll give you to her, Bo. You’ve been my most loyal dog, and there is no better reward than being taken care of by that precious princess.”

  He climbed from his pickup and led Bo to her final fight.

  When the door to the Blue Falls Taps opened, Jake looked up, expecting to see a paramedic rather than two barrels of a sawed-off shotgun.

  Devin Thompson.

  Jake rose from Justin’s body and stepped backward.

  Devin glanced down at the victim. “What happened here?”

  “Your mother happened,” Cole said.

  “Shit!” The shotgun shook in Devin’s hands as he moved it from person to person.

  The scattered patrons, including the musician, had their hands in the air.

  “Calm down,” Jake said.

  “Shit … Shit!” Devin panned the shaking shotgun from target to target.

  It was Russian Roulette, and Jake’s blood ran cold.

  “Mom. Come with me!” Devin’s pale face twitched. “Now!”

  Jake was not inexperienced with people on the edge before; it was clear to see that Devin was about to fall. Jake couldn’t hear movement behind him, so he glanced back.

  Marissa remained in the chair, slumped over. Her hair hung limply over her face, framing her empty eyes. She made no effort to move.

  Jake turned back to Devin. “How did you know she was here?”

  “Dad called me.”

  “It was me,” Piper said. “I contacted Blake Thompson when Marissa first arrived here.”

  “Mom, you need to come with me now, or we’re dead,” Devin said.

  “You’re all dead anyway,” Isaac said.

  Jake glared at Isaac. Stupid, stupid boy.

  Devin came quickly and struck Isaac across the face with the butt.

  Isaac staggered backward. A table stopped him falling. He stared up at his assailant, clutching his cheek.

  Devin stepped forward and put the shotgun barrels against the idiot’s forehead. “Well, if that’s the case, I’m not going down alone.”

  “Please … okay … sorry …” Blood dribbled from the corner of Isaac’s mouth.

  Devin stepped away from Isaac and headed toward Piper, pointing the shotgun at her.

  “Devin …” Jake said.

  “Shut the fuck up!” Devin glared at Jake. “You’ve caused enough trouble.”

  Jake felt a wave of nausea as Devin neared Piper.

  “Go and get my mother, Piper,” Devin said.

  “Your mother isn’t well―”

  “Get my mother!”

  Jesus, Piper, just do what he says! Jake thought.

  “Okay, I’ll ask her―”

  “Quickly! They’ll be here soon. And then I’ll start shooting.”

  Piper darted to Marissa, knelt, took her hands and peered into those sad eyes. “Devin wants you to go with him now.”

  Marissa didn’t respond.

  “I don’t think he’ll harm you. I think he wants to protect you.”

  Still no response.

  “You need to stand―”

  “Hurry up!” Devin shouted.

  Piper glared at him. “This is your mother, Devin, and she’s terrified.”

  “I’ll go.” Marissa slipped a hand from Piper’s and placed her palm against her daughter’s friend’s face then smiled. She rose to her feet.

  “Come on, come on!” Devin said, tapping his foot.

  Marissa approached her son, and when she was close enough, Devin lurched out and grabbed her arm.

  He then coaxed her to the front door while keeping the sawed-off shotgun moving from person to person. “Stay back.” Devin pushed his mother through the door then followed after her. “Don’t come after us.”

  After the door closed, Isaac said, “We won’t have to, dickhead, someone else will.”

  Jake went to Piper and embraced her. He then looked at Lillian. “Are you okay?”

  Lillian nodded.

  From his corner of the ring, Jotham listened to the crowd chant Bo’s name. They weren’t doing this out of respect for Jotham, but out of adoration for Bo and her passionate, athletic displays. She’d become known as the “ultimate finisher.” In her last fight, she’d torn out Athena’s throat even after she’d broken her back and incapacitated her.

  Mercy was weakness, and Jotham believed he’d bred it out of all of his dogs, just like Boyd had bred it out of him—just as he’d tried so desperately to breed it out of Ayden …

  Bo and Nyx rolled.

  “Bo … Bo … Bo!” the crowd chanted.

  Earlier, the referee had introduced Nyx to her debut fight as the “Greek goddess of night and possessor of exceptional power.” At the time, Jotham had rolled his eyes. Now, watching the young bitch perform, he had to give credit where credit was due. She was holding her own against Bo and had even taken a small chunk from his bitch’s side.

  “Bo … Bo … Bo …”

  He was yet to hear anybody chant Nyx’s name. Hardly surprising. No one had seen Nyx or her breeder before. The fact that Jotham also didn’t recognize the breeder was unusual. Didn’t matter how far they traveled within Maine, or New England for that matter, Jotham always knew them.

  Nyx’s breeder was young and wiry with a shaved head. He also wor
e a suit, which was often the case with more affluent breeders. There was a steady supply of wealthy businessmen, for example, who simply did this as a hobby on the weekends while conquering the stock market on weekdays.

  Jotham listened to a yelp from Bo and felt a tingle run down his spine. For the first time in the longest time, he felt some concern. Bo looked to be flagging, and Nyx was coming again and again with savage intent. Lift your head, girl. You’ve got a lot more to give.

  The chanting intensified and fed the tiring Bo with a burst of energy. She evaded Nyx’s jaws with a deft maneuver, and the crowd exploded. “Fanged! Fanged! Fanged!”

  Nyx had split her own lip.

  In his younger years, Jotham would have expressed delight, but in recent years, he’d adopted decorum. He smiled. Well, some, anyway. He spied the well-dressed breeder. The bastard didn’t look concerned about his faltering dog. This disappointed Jotham. Maybe he should’ve cheered after all and antagonized him.

  Nyx staggered backward, dripping blood from her damaged mouth.

  No mercy, Bo, no mercy.

  His beautiful dog charged.

  Nyx swooped, rose up and sank her teeth into the side of the oncoming dog.

  Jotham straightened up, feeling the burn of the deep, bandaged wounds on his back. Impossible! That bitch had been finished!

  The animals rolled again, tearing at one another.

  “Bo! Bo! Bo!”

  The back and forth continued. Every time one of the dogs seemed to gain the upper hand, it was snatched back with renewed fervor from the other.

  Jotham checked his watch. This was the longest fight he’d ever seen. He knew Bo’s capabilities like the back of his hand and realized, with gnawing anxiety, she would soon tire.

  Bo stumbled. Unless Nyx too reached the end of the line, Bo was done for.

  Nyx darted in, bearing bloodstained teeth.

  Bo staggered backward, panting.

  “Bo,” Jotham said.

  She regarded her master, her eyes glassy.

  “You don’t give up, girl. You just don’t―”

  Nyx was on top of her, seemingly with as much energy as she’d started this fight with.

  Impossible. Jotham glared at the breeder again. The bastard looked contented. Jotham nodded at the referee. He wanted the fight stopped.