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

by Scott Cook

  Maybe Scott was right, he was definitely rubbing off on me. Hmmm…

  Rocky only looked over and licked his chops. I’m not sure what he was thinking, but I’ll bet that it revolved around me being right. He almost always thinks I’m right.

  I figured that Marie was probably going to see her husband. Maybe hang out and have a nice refreshing beverage while they watched naked mud wrestling or some shit. Jesus… I’m no prude, but I’ve never been into the whole stripper thing. I know some girls think its fun, but I just think it’s stupid.

  Not that anybody asked, or anything…

  I was just pondering how I’d at least get to see Scott in a few minutes when the world went crazy. Just before we reached the OBT entrance to the Florida Mall, a big black pickup came flying out of a parking lot. And I mean big, too! One of those jacked up jobs with the lights on the roof and a big-ass roll bar in front. A Cracker Caddy we used to call them in Miami.

  The big black truck… a lot of black vehicles tonight. Black sedan, black truck and Marie’s Lexus was black also… the pickup came roaring out onto the street almost right in front of me and slammed into the sedan with a huge bang! I screamed and yanked my wheel to the right, just managing to swerve around the big truck and miss adding myself to the pile up. As I passed, I saw the car roll over and land on its roof in the median. The big truck, which hadn’t seemed to suffer much, turned and accelerated toward me. I braced myself, not having time to do anything and waited for the jarring crash.

  But nothing happened…

  I think I closed my eyes for a second, because the next thing I knew, the truck sped past me and turned into the entrance to the mall.

  “Holy shit!” I called out. “You okay, Rocky?”

  My four-year-old white and brown Pitbull mix had lurched sideways and hit the passenger door when I jerked the wheel. He was upright again and looking around calmly.

  What the hell do I do now? Should I pursue the truck that had caused the accident? Something told me that was no accident. There’s no way a vehicle would come flying out of a parking lot at fifty miles an hour and accidently hit another car at this time of night. Traffic was pretty light.

  Then the guy hauls ass after rolling another vehicle? No fucking way…

  “Shit… shit…” I said, trying to calm my nerves. I found I was shaking a little. “WWJD… What would Jarvis do? Probably make a wise crack, light up a cigar and chase down the bad guys while simultaneously checking on the victims…”

  I pulled into the next median turn lane and called him. He’d either have a suggestion or could possibly help. Either way, I had to check on the car, those guys could be hurt or worse. The truck would just have to get away. Dammit!

  “Thank you for calling 1-800-holy sweet Jesus, what was that noise under my bed? Sorry we’re not in to take your call, but our entire staff is attending the international casserole expo at the Convention Center.”

  I chuckled in spite of everything, “Scott, something’s happened.”

  He got serious real quick, “What? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine…” I related what had just happened as I turned around and went back to the wreck. “I’m gonna pull over and check on that car. But that damned truck got away…”

  “Okay, just be careful, huh? I’m on the way. How’s Marie?”

  “I don’t think she even noticed. The sedan was a hundred feet behind her or so. Traffic is light so they were playing it cool, I guess… who would’ve done this?”

  Scott sighed, “My guess would be Shade. I had a run in with him not long ago… at least I think it was him. I’m on the way.”

  Could this Shade guy have done this too? If he’d been at the strip joint not long ago, how could he have come after Marie… or maybe he’d come after her bodyguards, since that was the car he’d targeted. But how could he know to wait here?

  I parked in another turn lane and got out, making sure rocky stayed in the car. I rolled the windows halfway down for him. The black sedan, which was a Caddy after all, was almost directly in the middle of the four lane road, lying on its roof on top of the concrete divider. I couldn’t tell if anybody was moving inside as the windows were tinted.

  “Miss, you okay?” Somebody called from behind me.

  I turned to see a dude climbing out of a white mid-sized pickup truck in the parking lot on the west side of the road. He looked middle-aged and a bit overweight. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. He seemed harmless enough.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, but these guys might not be,” I said, pointing to the car.

  “What happened?” The guy asked as he fast-walked across the street.

  “A truck T-boned them and took off,” I said, moving to the driver’s side and trying to open the door. It moved a little, but didn’t open.

  “What’s with the gun?” The guy asked as he drew up close.

  I had my Glock 43 in my right hand, “Just in case. Can you help me get the doors open?”

  “I called the cops,” the man said. “If we can’t get in they should be able to. Lemme give er’ a try…”

  He pulled the door open the two inches or so that it would go and got both hands inside and pulled. It moved a bit, but still wouldn’t open. The guy was big, maybe Scott’s height with another thirty pounds on him. Although overweight, he did seem strong, but the door wouldn’t budge.

  “Hey! You okay in there?” he shouted.

  Nobody answered. By now, several more cars had stopped in the parking lots to either side of us and maybe a dozen people were looking on.

  Great, next the traffic would stop. Like that’d help anything…

  I heard an engine decelerating and turned around to see Scott’s jeep turn into the shopping center where the white truck was parked and pull into the space beside it. Scott jumped out with his own gun in his hand and jogged across the street.

  “You okay?” he asked me after kissing and hugging me. “Who’s your friend?”

  The older man stuck out a fist, “Name’s Will. Thought I could give the young lady a hand, but the door is pretty jammed… damn, son, you two kids gun nuts, or what?”

  Scott stuck his giant Colt 1911 pistil in the waistband at the small of his back, “Private investigators. Scott Jarvis, Lisa Gonzalez. Nice to meet you, Will. Why don’t we both try it?”

  Scott and Will both got their hands in the gap and pulled. There was a shriek and the driver’s door came open. There were two men inside, both still seat belted. They hung there, upside down and partially crumpled against the headliner. Scott bent down and touched the driver’s neck.

  “He’s got a pulse… still breathing, too,” He reported. He then wiggled in a little and did the same to the passenger. “Same on this guy… they’re alive, that’s something.”

  “You really a P.I.?” Will asked.

  “Yeah…” Scott said, backing out. “We both are.”

  “Well, sort of,” I said. “I’m apprenticing with him… should we get them out?”

  Scott frowned, “Not sure… they could have serious internal injuries or broken vertebrae. Moving them might be a bad idea, or it might be the right thing, it’s hard to tell…”

  Sirens wailed from up OBT. From the patterns, it sounded like a couple of cop cars and an ambulance.

  “I think EMTs are on the way,’ I stated. “Maybe we should wait?”

  Scott exchanged a glance with me and then with Will, “Yeah, let’s let the professionals handle it. Thanks for your help, Will. Sorry you’re about to have to give a statement.”

  Will grinned, “That’s awright. I couldn’t just drive by and ignore this.”

  He looked to the other side of the street at the small crowd of onlookers and frowned, “Or just watch.”

  Two cop cars pulled up in front and behind the overturned Caddy, taking up the inner southbound lane. The ambulance pulled up next to us and the three of us moved away and onto the median in front of the caddy.

  A young cop got out of the car behin
d and an older and tough-looking cop got out of the car we were closest to. He had iron gray hair cut into a crew and a mustache to match. The guy was short and swarthy looking. Scott frowned when he saw him.

  “Well, if it ain’t Scott Jarvis,” The older cop said, hitching his belt up. “Right next to trouble as usual.”

  Scott sighed, “Lisa, this is Sergeant Steve Kelso. He and I used to work together… and used to be friends until I evidently personally offended and betrayed him by leaving the force.”

  Scott sounded bitter. The name seemed familiar to me, too. The younger cop walked up and he also seemed to recognize Scott.

  “Jarvis?” he asked with a smile. “Stu Davage. We met a few years ago at Tito’s bar downtown. Me and Wayne were called in to break up a bar fight.”

  Scott snorted, “Isn’t this my lucky night…”

  The EMTs had already begun working on getting the two men out of the car. Kelso sighed and stepped closer.

  “Scott…” He said a little hesitantly. “You were right the last time we talked at that engineer’s house… I don’t know why I was mad and that was no way to talk to a friend. I was wrong, so… no hard feelings, huh?”

  Kelso stuck out his hand. Scott shrugged and shook it, “Fine by me, Steve.”

  Oh! This Kelso guy was the cop from Scott’s first book, Choices. He was in the first chapter where they arrested a college kid for stealing a car. Then he showed up again after Ravetti’s guys attacked Scott and an FBI agent at Charles Conklin’s house in Orlando. What a small world…

  “So can you tell us what happened here?” Davage asked Scott.

  Scott shook his head, “I only just arrived a few minutes ago. Lisa here saw the whole thing. And this fella, Will, tried to help out.”

  I told them what happened and Will told them how he’d been driving by and seen the car flipped over. Davage looked at the mall parking lot when I said that was where the truck had gone. At the end of my story, he frowned and went back to his car. He came back with a pair of binoculars.

  “What’s up, Stu?” Kelso asked.

  “I’m not sure…” Davage replied. “The mall’s closed… but there’s a vehicle parked in the lot maybe two hundred yards away… I think it’s a truck.”

  “Hang on,” Scott said, running to my Mercedes and coming back with my night vision monocular. He held it up to his eye and adjusted it, looking where Davage had been looking.

  “Yeah… black truck, jacked up with a roll bar?” Scott asked. “That’s what’s sitting there.”

  “I’m gonna go check it out,” Davage said.

  “Not alone,” Scott said sternly.

  Davage smirked, “I think I can handle it.”

  Scott stared at him, “It may be Shade’s truck.”

  Kelso and Stu seemed surprised by that. Kelso stepped forward.

  “You know about that?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Scott said. “I heard. And I have a client who got what amounts to a note from him.”

  “Damn…” Davage said quietly.

  “Who’s your client?” Kelso asked.

  Scott frowned at that. I knew he didn’t like disclosing that kind of information if he didn’t have to. Much of what private investigators did was confidential. People came to them… us…? Because they had a problem that they felt the cops couldn’t or wouldn’t handle. Or they wanted the problem solved quietly. The cops weren’t known for being quiet.

  “That’s not important right now,” Scott said. “Let’s go frisk that car, Stu. Might be worth getting your CSI people in on it, too.”

  “You know the client, Lisa?” Kelso asked me. He had a very intimidating air about him. I didn’t think he was even trying, but there was something about him. Maybe his build or manner or something.

  “I can’t say,” I said.

  “Oh, never mind…” Kelso stated and took a few steps closer to the wrecked car.

  The paramedics had gotten both men out and had them laid out on rolling stretchers. One medic was strapping them down and one was doing a quick examination.

  “I know at least one of these guys,” Kelso said, pointing at the one who’d been driving. “That’s Johnny Thumbs. One of Pauli Franco’s crew.”

  Well, that took care of that.

  “How are they, Trudy?” Kelso asked the heavyset middle-aged black woman who was doing the exam.

  “I think they’re okay,” Trudy replied. “Can’t be sure till we get em’ to ORMC, but I don’t think anything vital is broken. Concussions, maybe… could be some internal bruising, too. No indication of broken backs or necks, though. All extremities seem responsive.”

  “Okay,” Kelso said. “Keep me posted, huh? I’m gonna wanna talk to these two when they come around.”

  Kelso came back over to me, “So you guys are working for Pauli Franco, huh?”

  I didn’t like to give away Scott’s business. In spite of the fact that I was nearly fully qualified to get my P.I.’s license, I wasn’t quite there yet. And this was really Scott’s case. On the other hand, the cat seemed to be out of the bag.

  “His wife,” I said. “Paul got a credit card receipt at the titty bar signed by Shade.”

  Kelso grinned when I said titty bar.

  “His wife is worried,” I went on. “It’s kind of funny, really… I was following these two guys and they were following Marie. Keeping an eye on her, I guess. Don’t know why.”

  Kelso scoffed, “Probably because Franco is a typical jealous Guinea asshole.”

  Geez… nothing like being politically correct.

  “Sarg!” Stu called as he and Scott jogged back over to us.

  They waited for a few cars to go by and then came across the street and stood by us. Stu seemed excited but Scott had a worried look on his face.

  “What’d you find?” Kelso asked. “Hope you two didn’t queer the evidence for the crime scene folks.”

  “We didn’t touch anything,” Scott said.

  “We did find this, though,” Stu handed over a piece of paper to Kelso.

  The older cop looked at it and scowled. He sighed, “Jesus Christ… we got a live one on our hands. Scott… you got any idea what this is all about?”

  Scott sighed, “No… but this Shade is obviously an ego criminal.”

  “What’s it say?” I asked.

  Kelso chuffed, “’This one you’ll owe me for… and tell Pauli that I’m keeping an eye on her, too.’”

  “What’s that even mean?” Davage asked in confusion.

  “My guess is that you’re gonna find that one of those two goons the EMTs are packing up is wanted on something,” Scott said. “You’ll be able to link him up with some crime or other, at any rate. And the last part… that seems pretty clear.”

  “Why does this Shade guy have it in for the Francos?” I asked, feeling pretty confused myself.

  Scott looked off into the distance and sighed softly, “I’m not sure that he does, exactly. I’m sure this is just the appetizer. Whatever this Shade has in store, it’s going to be a smorgasbord.”

  “Yeah… and it’s gonna give us all a sour belly,” Kelso added harshly.

  “It does seem like this character is going after bad guys,” Davage put in.

  “Don’t forget Bryce,” Kelso said. “He’s a prick… but one of us, remember?”

  “Anything I can do?” Scott asked.

  Kelso shook his head, “It’s a police matter now, Scott. Sorry… but that’s how it goes.”

  Scott shrugged, “Okay, then Lisa and I will say good night.”

  I’m not sure, but I don’t think Scott was pleased about being turned down… although it wasn’t really a surprise. We were just a couple of civilians, after all.

  Chapter 6

  I woke up with Lisa snuggled up on my left side, her leg over mine, her arm across my chest and her head in the hollow of my shoulder. It was very pleasant but also surprising. Often after a while, this sort of entanglement leads to your hero losing the feeling in an
arm. We must’ve drifted off rather quickly the previous evening.

  I slowly and carefully wriggled from beneath her, foolishly believing that I could accomplish this complex task without disturbing her.

  “Mmm… where you going?” she mumbled in a voice that was more than half asleep.

  “The lads and I have to hit the head,” I said quietly as I extricated myself. “Go back to sleep.”

  “Okay…” She muttered, turning over. “Don’t forget to let the boys out to pee…”

  I chuckled softly as I slid on a pair of shorts and went out into the living room. Both dogs were staring at me reproachfully. As if I should’ve gotten up even earlier to allow them to make proper use of their version of the gentlemen’s convenience.

  The three of us went out into the backyard and Morgan led Rocky to the special evacuation area of the yard. This was located on the side of the house by the second and third bedrooms and between the fence. This ten foot wide space was never used for anything else. The boys’ willingness to make this their seat of ease left the rest of the yard clear of landmines. A consideration for which I was grateful.

  Dawn had broken, but the sun was still a half hour from showing over the houses behind me. It being sufficiently dark, I too moseyed over to the corner and answered nature’s call. Nobody was around, so what the hell?

  As I turned away from the fence, I saw both dogs looking at me. Again, I had the strong impression that I was being reproved.

  “What?” I asked as we walked along the back of the house. “It’s okay for you guys to tinkle in my yard… can’t I?”

  I left them to run around the yard for a bit and went inside to get the coffee going. After tossing a couple of balls to them for about fifteen minutes, I went inside, washed my hands and poured myself a cup. This I took out onto the back porch and settled into a wicker rocker.

  I sent Sharon a quick text. She was an early riser like me and would either be up getting ready for a run or workout, or she’d be on her way to work.

  “So how’s it hangin’, Dirk Gently?” Sharon quipped when I answered her call.

  “Astonishing… you just never run dry, do you?”