Death Comes to Main Street (The Paul Monroe Mysteries Book 3)

by Felice Stevens

  Paul strained to hear the conversation, but as they were talking low, he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He did snap several photos of the men with his phone for witness identification.

  Frustrated, he decided to show his hand and walked into the backyard. “Afternoon, Wilbur, Travis.”

  The circle broke apart, the men shooting each other uneasy looks.

  “You got a search warrant, Officer?” Travis sneered.

  “I’m not searching for anything except the answers to some questions. We’re here to talk to you, that’s all.”

  “Well, we’re busy. I got guests.”

  Flicking his gaze over each man, Paul committed their faces to memory. “I hope I don’t ruin your dinner party. It won’t take long. And your friends can answer the questions too.” He paused. “If they want to.”

  “I got nothing to hide,” the man he thought was Wellie answered.

  “Me neither,” the others chorused.

  “Good.” Rob flashed them a smile and directed his question to the tall, bearded man. “Your name?”

  “Curtis Wellington.”

  Paul transcribed his observations while Rob questioned Wellie, taking note of all the tattoos covering his arms and hands, including each finger.

  “Where were you the night of the fire at the Wild Orchid, Mr. Wellington?”

  “Home, watching the ball game.”

  With a sinking heart, Paul had a feeling their answers would be coordinated, and after Rob asked the other two the same question and received the exact same answer, he was angry to be proved correct.

  “Were you all alone? None of you had anyone else with you?”

  “Nope,” Curtis answered with a grin.

  The short, bald man nicknamed Bear, whose name was really Arnie, picked his teeth with his fingernail, spit on the ground, and said, “Naw. Just me, myself, and I.”

  Paul flipped through his notes, back to the interview with the Rothsteins. “Mr. Wellington, were you ever at the Twenty-Four Karat jewelry store?”

  The cocky smile faded from his lips. “I dunno. Maybe.”

  “Did you try to sell them a watch and get into a disagreement with one of the salespeople there?”

  His squinty eyes narrowed further. “What if I did? Is that against the law now?”

  “No, but dealing in counterfeit goods is, as is using hate language.”

  “What the hell is he talking about?” Bear blustered.

  “Well, Curtis? What do you have to say?”

  “I know my watch is real. He’s just tryin’ to Jew me down like all them people do to get it on the cheap. I ain’t no fool.”

  Disgusted by what he was hearing, Paul pressed on. “Where were you the night of July fifteenth?”

  Curtis Wellington screwed up his face. “How the fuck should I know? That was almost two weeks ago.”

  “We can wait for you to remember.”

  Curtis’s gaze shifted back and forth, and Paul’s heart kicked up.

  “He was with me,” Travis said. “We were here, hanging out.” He pointed to the others. “They were too. We were grilling, and then we watched the game.”

  “Again.”

  “Yeah,” Travis said pugnaciously. “Again. It’s the season, Officer. You know?” His lips curled. “But you probably don’t play sports. I’m guessing you like the ballet.”

  A surge of anger made him take a step forward, but Rob intercepted him.

  “No. That would be me. My wife and I go whenever we get the chance.”

  Travis clamped his jaw shut. “Whatever. So you can run along now, back to your little boy toy. We’ve all got alibis.”

  “Oh, Travis, you don’t think that’s going to solve your problems, do you?” Paul said softly. “See, we have cameras that capture every angle of Main Street, and we’re busy going over the footage, enlarging every detail. We have pictures of people on the street at the time of the robberies and the fire. So don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.”

  He tramped his way through the ankle-high mixture of weeds and grass and stopped. At the far end of the grass were two cutout cardboard figures, one in a police uniform and one in a plain collared shirt. Leaving everyone behind, Paul traipsed across the grass to them, his stomach churning as he grew close. The figures were riddled with bullet holes.

  “What the hell is this?” he muttered.

  Behind him, he heard Rob’s quick inhale. “Jesus.”

  “Oh, that’s nothing, Officer,” Travis called out. His confidence regained, Travis chuckled. “Just doing a little target practice, you know? Keeping myself sharp.”

  Bile rose in Paul’s throat, and his hands itched to fasten around Travis’s throat.

  “Easy, brother,” Rob murmured. “Not worth it.”

  His fury contained, Paul huffed out a breath. “I know, I know.” He turned on his heel and returned to the group of men now lounging around. Paul sensed they believed they’d outsmarted him, but he had no intention of letting any lead go without investigating every angle.

  “We’ll be in touch.”

  Paul stomped out to the car, waiting for Rob to catch up. He leaned against the hood, lifting his face to the late-afternoon sun filtering through the trees.

  “You don’t believe them,” Rob stated when he joined him.

  Paul snorted. “That’s obvious. Convenient that they all have an alibi for each other or the same exact alibi. Bunch of bullshit is what I say. We need to comb through all our sources and see who was around Main Street at that time, plus the pawnshop. I’m sure the fire and the break-ins are connected.”

  “I agree, and we have our list of sources and shops. We’d already started going through it, but then the fire happened. Plenty to start with.”

  “Yeah,” Paul said, his attention diverted to his house across the street. Cliff had pulled into the driveway and now stood waiting outside by his car. Paul was anxious to be with him. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Rob opened the car door. “Bright and early. I have a feeling it’s going to be a busy day. Have a good night.” He waved at Cliff, who raised a hand in acknowledgment.

  “What else is new? See you.” Eyes fixed on Cliff, he walked across the street. “Hi. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled at Paul. “And better now. I didn’t think I’d see you so early.”

  Paul’s glance flickered involuntarily to the side. “I had some business close to home.”

  “Travis?” Cliff peered over his shoulder.

  “Not out here. We have enough people commenting on our personal life.”

  With his hand resting on Cliff’s back, they walked up the path and into the house. As had become their routine, Paul divested himself of his gun and badge and locked them up. He changed into sweats and a T-shirt, and barefoot, returned to the kitchen to see Cliff had a whiskey and soda waiting for him and had poured himself a large glass of white wine. He waited while Cliff changed out of his suit to jeans and a T-shirt and returned to the living room.

  On the couch they sipped their drinks, Cliff’s thigh pressed against his.

  “Is it bad?” Cliff asked.

  The amber depths of his drink held no answers, and Paul grimaced. “It’s not good.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  There was little Cliff could offer Paul except support and a listening ear. That, and keep his drink filled.

  “More than ever now, I’m convinced Travis is involved in some way with the robberies.”

  In no way was he surprised, but Cliff was interested in the reasoning. “Can you talk about it?”

  “Not really. But I can’t stress enough the importance for you to be careful. I’m serious, Cliff.” Paul set his drink on the coffee table and pulled him close. “There’s something dangerous going on, and I don’t know how coordinated an effort it is, but it’s all tied in somehow.”

  A chill ran through Cliff. “Are you in danger? And does this involve the Wild Orchid?” His drink joined Paul’s
.

  A struggle played out over Paul’s face, but in the end all he said was, “I don’t know.”

  It had been a day filled with so much heightened emotion, Cliff needed to reconnect with Paul, and so without a second thought, he pulled Paul’s shirt off and tugged his sweats down, past his hips, knees, and feet until he lay clad only in his boxers, the thrust of his rapidly hardening dick pushing up through the thin fabric.

  “Let’s forget about today.”

  Paul said nothing but reached up to cup his face, and their mouths pressed together hungrily, tongues searching and licking. Cliff buried his face in the crook of Paul’s neck, breathing in his heat and the lingering scent of his aftershave. His pulse beat madly, and Cliff ran the tip of his tongue along the jumping point.

  Paul smoothed both hands over his ass, and Cliff straddled Paul and pushed him flat on the couch. “I want to make you feel good.” He pulled off Paul’s boxers and tossed them to the floor.

  “You don’t have to do anything but be here with me.”

  Cliff enjoyed mapping a path across Paul’s muscled torso with his lips until he reached the reddened crown of Paul’s straining erection. He licked the glistening tip before taking the full thick length of Paul’s shaft down his throat. A groan escaped Paul, and Cliff increased his pace, sucking hard until he was drowning in the riches of Paul’s body.

  “Cliff, Cliff.”

  Dimly aware of Paul calling his name, Cliff released him and sat on his knees, panting.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Paul’s deep chuckle rumbled through him, and his blue eyes blazed so hot, Cliff lost his breath for a moment. “I want inside you.” He tugged at Cliff’s pants. “Here. Now.”

  While Cliff wriggled out of his pants and briefs, Paul pulled out the lube from the side-table drawer. He coated his fingers and pressed through the tightness of his hole to stretch him. As the pleasure ripped through him, Cliff thought hazily that there was little better in life than having Paul’s hands on his skin and playing so tenderly inside him.

  “Oh God, yeah,” he gasped, and rose up on his heels. Paul’s shaft glistened with lube, and Cliff bit his lip and took Paul’s full rigid length all the way up into him. Paul held his hips and rolled his pelvis up, thrusting deep, piercing to his very core. Cliff tightened around Paul’s cock and leaned forward to capture his lips and suck his tongue. Desire sang through his blood and bones, and the room spun. Cliff closed his eyes, falling into the rhythm, moving quicker as Paul snapped his hips up, sharp and hard. Paul wrapped a large, warm palm around his cock and began a lazy up-and-down stroke, swirling his thumb over the smooth head, and Cliff shuddered as the familiar rush of orgasm swept through him.

  “Ahh.” He tensed and came, flooding Paul’s hand with come, but Paul continued to pump him through his climax. The touch on his overly sensitized skin was almost unbearable, and Cliff twitched and jerked on Paul’s stiff cock.

  “That’s it,” Paul muttered and drove into him one last time before he swelled and filled him with heat. He pulled Cliff on top of him, and they lay together in a sweaty, sticky mess.

  Never so content, Cliff sighed, resting his head on Paul’s chest, loving the thunderous sound of Paul’s heartbeat resonating in his ear. “That was nice.”

  Paul smacked his ass lightly. “Nice? That’s all you have to say?”

  Cliff pressed his lips together to keep from laughing out loud. “How about…incredible? Mind-altering? Incomparable?”

  Paul smoothed his hand along the curve of Cliff’s spine. “That’s better. Let’s take a shower and have dinner. Then we’ll talk.”

  An hour later, freshly showered and changed, Cliff slid a plate of grilled salmon and asparagus across the island to Paul and sat next to him with his own food. He didn’t know which he enjoyed more: his perfectly seasoned food, or Paul in a T-shirt and gym shorts, flushed from the shower with his hair still wet.

  “So what happened today? That you can tell me, of course.”

  Paul chewed for a moment, then sipped his water. “There’s been a spate of break-ins, as you know. Separately they’d be troubling, but if you look at it all together…” His face hardened. “Something’s ugly.”

  His food forgotten, Cliff leaned forward. “And you found a commonality to all of them?”

  “Maybe. We think so, but it’s too early to say anything definite.” Paul toyed with his food, finally pushing it aside. He set the fork on the plate. “Have you seen anyone with a tattoo of an Iron Cross with a skull in the center?”

  Thinking hard, Cliff shook his head. “No. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

  “Travis has one. As did someone who had an altercation with Joshua at his store, who is friends with Travis. In fact, our charming neighbor has a group of buddies who all seem to follow the same disgusting credo. So Rob and I are going to have to do a lot of investigating and cross-matching with everything going on.”

  They sat quietly, finishing their dinner, and Cliff didn’t bring it up again until after he’d loaded the dishwasher and Paul put away the leftovers.

  “You really think Travis is involved in all this? The fire at the Wild Orchid too?” While Cliff knew Travis was mean-spirited and a bully, it was hard to imagine him taking a step further to cause such destruction and potential death.

  “I don’t rule anyone out until I can. Simple as that. And he’s involved in something for sure. Whether it’s the robberies, shooting out our window, or something more,” Paul said grimly, his face so hard and dark, a shiver rolled through Cliff. “I intend to find out.”

  They watched the news, and Cliff switched off the set when his phone lit up. Paul frowned.

  “Who’s calling now?”

  “It’s Ry.” He hit Accept. “Hey, how’re you doing?”

  “Truthfully? Pretty shit.”

  Cliff returned to the couch. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

  “Sorry to be calling so late, but I was busy running around after I saw you, and then I crashed earlier.”

  “No need to explain.”

  “Well, I don’t want Paul to get annoyed that I’m calling so late.”

  “Paul would never care about that. You’re my—our friend.”

  Paul gave him a thumbs-up and dropped a kiss on his head. “I’ll get ready for bed.” They held hands for a moment, as if realizing how lucky they were to be there for each other, and then Cliff refocused on his conversation.

  “You’re at Shelby’s sister’s?”

  “Yeah, she’s a sweet kid. Really torn up about his death. We’ve been sitting around all evening, talking about him. She wanted to know about his last few weeks.”

  “I’m glad you have this time to catch up on his life.”

  All completely inadequate words, but what would satisfy at this point? A senseless death could never be justified.

  “Surprisingly, she found out her grandmother accepted Shelby. Brianna told me they spoke, and Grandma June said she hoped Shelby found someone who loved him and was there for him in the end. She told her about me, and tomorrow morning I’m meeting her.”

  “That’s great. I hope it goes well.”

  “How’s the investigation going? Any leads?”

  Cliff heard Paul moving about in the bedroom. “Paul and Rob are working their asses off to find out what’s going on, but it’s more complicated than they first thought.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not sure myself. Honest, Ry, I’m not holding back. Paul doesn’t talk to me in depth about his cases. I’ve told you that. But something’s going on in Thornwood Park, and Paul suspects the robberies and what happened at the Wild Orchid are all interconnected. He doesn’t have enough concrete evidence yet, but it’s getting there.”

  “Here’s hoping he finds out before anyone else gets hurt.”

  “I agree.”

  “I’m gonna hit the sack. After I meet Shelby’s grandmother, I’m heading home, so I’ll check
in.”

  “Please. And stop by if you can.”

  “I’ll try. Thanks, Cliff. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  “Well, lucky you, you’ll never have to know, since you’re stuck with me.” Cliff badly wanted to know if Ryan had spoken to Joshua but didn’t want to come right out and ask. “Have you spoken to anyone else? Your parents…”

  “Smooth, Cliffie.” Ryan chuckled. “Yes, I talked to Joshua. He called me, and we talked. He’s having a rough time too. I think he’s going to see a counselor too.”

  “And here I thought I was so subtle.”

  “Dude, you are so not. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Night.”

  Paul, already in bed, set his notepad aside when he entered the room. “Everything okay? How’s he holding up?”

  Cliff sat on the edge of Paul’s side of the bed. “Do you know how lucky we are? So many days I wake up and still can’t believe you’re here with me. And you may worry about me getting hurt, but you have to know I worry the same for you. You’re the one in danger every day.”

  Paul shifted over to make more space for him. “What brought this on? Ryan okay?”

  “He’s getting by. Shelby’s grandmother wants to meet him, even if the parents don’t.”

  Paul sighed. “You know what I’ve learned since we’ve been together? The people you least expect will surprise you the most.”

  From the wistful expression on Paul’s face, Cliff could guess. “You’re talking about your father, right?”

  “Yeah. I’m glad we had a chance to see him before he died.”

  They’d gone down at Christmastime for a visit, and while it had been awkward at first, Paul’s father had warmed up once Cliff had taken him out golfing and they’d discovered a shared love of murder mysteries. When they received the call from his girlfriend, Vicki, that he’d had a serious stroke, they’d rushed to be by his side, and though he’d lost his ability to speak, his eyes brightened when they entered his hospital room. Cliff would never forget taking his hand and receiving the slightest squeeze in return. It was all he’d needed to feel accepted.