That Way Lies Madness: A Florida Action Adventure Novel (Scott Jarvis Private Investigator Book 8)

by Scott Cook

  In my case, of course, a bad guy or a shady character bent on mischief appeals to me. It was therefore a constant battle for me to distinguish between what was really there and what my mind was programmed to see.

  I picked up speed and rounded the corner, skidding to a halt between the cars parked facing the building on one side and those facing the wall on the other. A single parking light cast a pallid and ineffective glow over this section of the lot. I saw nothing and held my breath. I heard nothing. I began to move along the building between it and the cars.

  I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, and couldn’t have seen it without my night vision monocular regardless. There was a few feet of space between the parking bricks and the rear wall of the club. With the exception of the fire door near my corner and the electrical service, the wall was pretty much blank.

  Something did seem odd, though… I moved closer to the electrical service and tried to figure out what was sounding my internal alarm. It was a typical setup, several conduits running from the ground to the roof and through a series of four meters. A gray box was mounted to the wall beneath these and…

  The door had been forced. The little metal and plastic lock that the electric company used to keep the access panel closed had been broken. The access door, about a foot wide by two feet tall, was partially pried open.

  “What the Christ…” I muttered.

  I actually had my hand on the door before I stopped myself and slowly drew my hand back. All I knew about Shade was that he… I’d think of Shade as he unless I found out differently… had used a bomb. What if he’d done that here? No doubt my pulling the door open would trigger some kind of booby trap.

  Or nothing would happen… but I figure it’s better to be paranoid than sploded.

  A rather useful pragmatism, that was. Might have to have a couple of magnetic advertising signs made up with that tagline on them.

  Need a dick? Then Call Scott Jarvis… cuz’ it’s better to be paranoid than sploded.

  A rasping sound from behind caught my ear. I whirled around and crouched low behind the hood of an old Dodge and scanned the parking area with my night vision. At first I saw nothing, but then I heard the sound again, coming from my left.

  “Don’t move!” I shouted, using the hood to aim my weapon in the direction of the noise. “Come out and keep your hands where I can see them!”

  Nothing.

  He was out there. I could sense it. A person was hiding behind a vehicle six or seven cars away. I’d heard their shoes on the asphalt. I was sure of it.

  I low walked toward the rear of the dusty gray sedan and peered around the trunk to where I thought my quarry was hiding. In another moment, I’d dart across the lot and move between the cars there and the wall. I’d only be exposed for a second or two…

  There was a loud crack from behind me followed by the unmistakable sound of electrical circuits arcing and sputtering. I looked behind me to see that the door to the service box was gone and smoke was pouring from the breakers. The steady hum that had been there before, an indication of power usage, was now gone. Someone had set off a small explosive. Possibly one of those big firecrackers like an M80 or M100. Just enough to short-circuit the power.

  When I turned back to try and find my hidden opponent, I saw a figure dressed in black disappear over the wall not fifty feet from me.

  “Shit!” I cursed aloud.

  I had two choices. Figure out why the power had been cut and what was next, or go after the figure. I cursed again and ran for the wall.

  It was eight feet high, as mentioned. But with a running start, a man could leap up and get his hands on the top edge. Then by using his upper body to heave and his legs to push, he could boost himself up enough to get a purchase on the rampart of the wall and pull himself up.

  I did this and paused, perched on top of the eight inch wide crown of the dividing wall. Below and before me was a trailer park, its array of mobile homes laid out in a regular rank and file arrangement. I did not see my foe, however.

  No doubt he or she was hiding behind one of the trailers. Probably the one that was three down from me to the left. Well, only one thing for it.

  Just before I leapt down, a chorus of barks and growls erupted seemingly everywhere in the large park at once. As if every Doberman, Rottweiler and Pitbull… what else would live there… was instantly alerted and letting each other know that a baddie was about.

  That included several large and menacing pooches that suddenly appeared in the backyards of the three trailers closest to me. Four… no five dogs all looked up at me with bared teeth and snarls in their throats.

  “Okay then,” I stated. “Guess a foot chase is out of the question… wonder if any of these friendly pups got my mystery man?”

  I waited, perched like a magpie on a telephone line. Yet besides the barking and the variety of residents who were entreating their dogs to shut the fuck up, I neither heard nor saw a single sign. I decided that it was time to go before somebody inquired as to exactly why I was doing my impersonation of Humpty Dumpty and would I like them to break my sorry ass in pieces, too.

  I dropped back to the Venus parking lot and headed toward the entrance. Whether I liked it or not, guess ole Scotty was gonna see him some titties.

  “Hey, what the fuck!”

  This came from the now open back door. In it stood Pauli Franco. What I was coming to think of as his personal body guard stood just outside, holding something black in his right hand. The man was at least six foot six with long lank hair and a boney frame. I’d seen him with Paul before and he did cut an odd but impressive figure. When the giant caught sight of me moving between two cars, he held the weapon in my direction.

  “What the frig…” Franco was saying. His angry exclamation trailed off as he must have recognized me. “Is that… Jarvis?”

  “Get your ass over here,” The giant said in his rasping low rumble.

  I strolled over and stopped a few feet away, “Evenin’ gents.”

  “It’s that fuckin’ private dick,” The rocket scientist turned bodyguard informed Franco.

  “Did you do this?” Franco asked me, pointing back into the Smokey interior.

  “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific, Paul,” I said. “Did I do what, exactly?”

  “You fuckin’ know what, punk!” the gangling goon snarled. “Somebody cut the power inside and everybody’s flippin’ the fuck out.”

  I looked at Paul.

  “He’s right,” Franco said. “We’re on backup power, but most of the main is down. You know anything about this, Jarvis?”

  “Yeah, I do,” I said. “It’s a bit of a story. But no, Lurch, it wasn’t me that cut the power. Somebody planted a small EED in your power box. I went to chase the cat and he jumped over the fence back there. All that yapping you hear is the result… and why I didn’t extend my pursuit.”

  “Maybe we don’t believe ya, snooper,” The bodyguard menaced, advancing a step toward me.

  “Take it easy, Shorty,” Franco stated.

  Another man pushed his way out. He looked like he’d been meant for an XXL body but had been poured into one a size or two below it. He was about six feet and puffy, with close cropped black hair and horn rimmed glasses that set off a heavy black stash you could’ve used as an industrial push broom. He wore black slacks and a black polo shirt that struggled to contain a set of breasts that must be the envy of every dancer in the joint.

  “Steve, check the electrical box,” Franco ordered.

  Steve went over and inspected it. After a moment of checking things out with a flash, he turned to his boss, “Somethin’ went off in here. Breakers are all melted and I can’t get em’ back on.”

  Franco sighed, “Christ… okay, Steve, call Al Pratt and have him come and take a look. Tell him it’s an emergency and there’s a grand bonus in it for him if he gets this shit sorted out in the next couple of hours.”

  “Okay, boss,” Steve said. “What should
I do about the guests?”

  Franco sighed wearily, “You’re the friggin’ manager, Steve! You figure it out! Give em’ a round of free drinks and get the girls dancing’ again.”

  The fat man ambled back inside, wiping his palms on his pants as he did. Franco sighed and turned back to me.

  “Want a drink?” he asked. “Maybe you can explain this?”

  I shrugged, “Sure, Paul… I’d rather do it in private anyway. Is Herman here invited, too?”

  “Hey, fuck y—“ The giant exclaimed.

  “Okay, okay!” Paul said in exasperation. “The bodayiz… Shorty, go back inside and help Steve. Jarvis, you come with me.”

  “Yes sir!” I quipped.

  Franco actually had the good grace to smirk a little, “Well, you do work for me, right?”

  Interesting…

  I followed Franco into the dimly lit corridor. Dimly lit by a single blue emergency light. I was instantly enveloped in a fog of cigarette smoke. Even down the hallway off the main areas of the club it was thick. As bad as a casino floor.

  Pauli led me into his office where somebody had lit half a dozen candles. It gave the familiar room a yellowish tinge that seemed out of place in the modern paneled office with its filing cabinet, big oak desk and half a dozen chairs. It was here that I’d first met Gregorio Santino more than a year before.

  “Have a seat,” Franco stated, moving behind his desk. “What can I getcha?”

  “A beer would be fine,” I said, “if the taps still work.”

  Franco picked up a smart phone, tapped it a few times and set it down, “Okay, so let’s get down to brass tacks, hah?”

  “What did you mean about me working for you?”

  He grinned, “I know that Marie came to see yiz this morning. She’s worried about this Shade thing.”

  “Maybe with good reason,” I stated.

  Franco leaned back in his chair and pulled a pack of smokes from the first drawer of his desk. He torched a cancer stick and puffed casually, “Maybe. What do you know about it?”

  I shrugged, “I’ve been casing the place for about an hour. Saw something in the back parking lot maybe ten minutes ago. Can’t quite say. A figure, maybe.”

  “But not a customer,” Franco said. “Something that made you think you should take a closer look.”

  The office door opened and a very tall redhead wearing Daisy Dukes, four inch heels and a black Venus polo that was cut off just above her navel stepped in. She set a drink in front of Franco.

  “Thanks, Crystal,” he said.

  The woman, who in her heels was easily over six feet tall turned to me, her auburn tresses swinging almost to her backside, “And your beer, cutie.”

  “Thanks, Crystal,” I said with a charming smile.

  “I’ve never seen you before,” Crystal purred.

  “He ain’t a customer, honey,” Franco said with a chuckle. “He’s… a friend of mine. He ain’t really into the whole scene here.”

  “Oh no?” Crystal asked me with a smile. “You gay or somethin’?”

  Franco burst out laughing, “Oh, that’s rich! Nah, honey… you should see his girlfriend! Nah, he just thinks strippers is a waste of his time!”

  Crystal winked at me, “Maybe not a waste of your time, handsome. You come back sometime and see me. I tend bar mostly… but I dance too.”

  “Good to know,” I said and tapped my temple.

  The attractive redhead swished out into the hall and closed the door behind her.

  “Christ…” I mumbled derisively.

  “Maybe yiz are gay, Jarvis,” Franco tittered. “She don’t go in for most guys. That’s why she tends bar. She only does private dances for a select few clients. And believe me… it’s worth the extra bread.”

  “Yeah, great,” I said. “So I’m on the short list of douche bags who objectify her and treat her like trash. No thanks, Paul.”

  Paul scoffed and rolled his eyes.

  ”Anyway, I went to check out what I’d seen. When I came around the corner, I couldn’t see anybody. I did notice the electrical box was tampered with, though.”

  “With that eyepiece you got?” Franco asked, pointing to the monocular I held in my lap.

  I sipped the blessedly cold beer and nodded, “Yeah. Then I hear a sound. I go to investigate and the box blows. I turned back around and saw a guy going over the wall. When I went to chase him, it was friggin’ pooch city over there.”

  Franco snorted, “Yeah, typical trailer trash. So you don’t know who it was. Think it was this Shade?”

  I shrugged, “You got me. If you tripled what I know about this Shade it’d still fit nice and comfy up a gnat’s ass. What about you? I heard about that credit card receipt. You worried? Marie seems to think you don’t give a rat’s ass.”

  Franco puffed languidly for a moment before saying: “Jarvis… I know we had our differences…”

  I snorted, “You mean like trying to kill me? That tiny little misunderstanding?”

  He chuckled, “Hey, you started it. But yeah… and I hope we’ve got past it. Gregorio thinks it’s important… and I think he’s right, especially now.”

  I waited, somewhat impressed by his introspection.

  “Thing is,” Franco continued, “I am worried. Worried about Marie, at least. I’m kinda glad she’s got you and your girlfriend watchin’ out. I got a couple of guys on her, too. That’s hows come I know about her comin’ to see you today.”

  “Couple of guys in a black sedan?” I inquired.

  He grinned, “Yeah. How’d you know?”

  “I’m a detective, sweetheart,” I Bogied.

  “Okay,” Franco chuckled. “I don’t know what it is, call it a hunch… but I’m increasing security. Especially after tonight.”

  “This could’ve been a prank,” I suggested. “Notfuhnuthin’, Paul… but in your business… and I don’t mean this club… I’m sure you’ve probably made a few enemies.”

  He waved that off and sipped from his drink, “Nah… nobody would pull this. Especially since I’m in an official position, y’know what I mean?”

  “For guys that know,” I suggested, “that might be true… but not everybody understands the lay of the land.”

  He shrugged, “Could be… but my gut says this Shade deal ain’t a coincidence. And I know how you feel about them, too. My question is… who is this guy? Why’s he got a hard-on for me… and why’d he try to blow up that cop?”

  “Good questions,” I admitted. “Seemingly unrelated, but I wonder… Bryce has a bit of an attitude problem. You ever run across him?”

  “Not personally… but a couple of my guys have. And yeah, he’s a prick. Still, how’s that relate to our mystery man?”

  I took a long pull from the beer, which was some kind of lager. I couldn’t tell but thought it might be a domestic, “Who knows? Maybe this guy has a vendetta against hoods and cops alike. No idea.”

  “How do you find out?”

  I chuckled, “Sadly the only thing I can do is keep tabs on you and your wife. We have to see what he does next, if he does something else. At this point, there’s nothing else anybody can do. Maybe the cops will come up with something. I understand you’ve got an inside line with them?”

  Franco made a dismissive gesture, “I hear things. You used to be a cop, though. So I bet you can get some news, too.”

  I nodded, drained my stein and rose, “Well, we’ll see. I left my pup in the car, though, so I’m off. I can hang out and keep an eye on things for a while, if you’d like.”

  He sighed, “Nah… we’re pretty safe here.”

  “I’d recommend closing down tonight,” I said.

  “It’s only ten-thirty,” Franco protested. “We still got four hours yet.”

  I frowned, “Paul… that guy didn’t cut the power for nothing. Maybe it was only to screw with you… but I don’t know. I suggest closing down and doing a thorough going over on the place. But that’s your lookout.”

 
; “I think we’re fine,” He insisted, “but if you want to keep an extra eye on Marie… my guys will to, but I don’t mind the help. She’s my girl, y’know?”

  I was surprised at that. Pauli Franco didn’t strike me as the sentimental type. I smiled and nodded and went out, pondering the complexity of life and marveling at how some folks could really surprise you.

  Chapter 5

  Drawn from the case file of Gonzalez and What’s his ass

  Lisa’s journal entry 1

  Ah, dear reader, here we are again, sharing the extremely crowded space inside my mind. As in the past, I’m adding my two cents to Scott’s story. And as in the past, I want to remind you that I’m no great novelist. Just a smart, funny, gorgeous… and humble… lady-type cruising the mean streets of O-town battling crime and looking cute.

  Okay, so after hanging up with Scott, I followed the sedan that was following Marie out of the neighborhood. I was kind of curious to see where she was going. It was a little after ten at night and all.

  I doubted she had a back door man, or that she’d be dumb enough to go see him on the very day she hired no less than two private dicks… hehehe, dicks… so where could she be going? There certainly were plenty of bars open in the greater Orlando metro area. Some restaurants, too, of course. She could also be going to see a friend… or even her hubby I supposed.

  I’ve never met this Pauli guy, but from what Scott has told me, he can be kind of a douche. He did have a couple of his goons shoot Scott last year and all. That seems unfriendly.

  Anyway, I and my fearless companion, Rocky the love pup were in hot pursuit of the black sedan. Marie turned out of her subdivision and right onto Town Center Boulevard and headed east. She drove for a while and then turned left onto Orange Blossom Trail.

  “Ha!” I said, giggling. “A left turn to head north on OBT, Rocky Raccoon! This clearly indicates dastardly intent!”