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

by Scott Cook

  “What happened, Lauren?” Lisa asked, seeing the shock that must be plastered across my face.

  “Hey lis… well… the cops said that somebody reported a big boom a couple of hours ago… there was a fire. So hot the firefighters couldn’t even get close. The marina people managed to move a few boats until the fire boat came… the cops said that by the time they put the fire out and went aboard… there was hardly anything left. The boat burnt down to the waterline.”

  Wayne looked at me and took a deep breath, “Hey, kid… so how do they know it was him?“

  “Oh, hey, Wayne…” Lauren said glumly. “I heard about Sheila… I’m so sorry… well, there were… remains. Not much, but dental records came back positive. Guess the cops have that stuff on file… it was Bill.”

  “Oh, Christ…” I muttered. “How’s Sam?”

  Lauren sighed, “She’s a wreck… I know they split up not long ago… but I don’t think she expected this. I’m gonna go over and sit with her. Probably stay with her tonight.”

  “No way,” I said harshly. ‘No fuckin way! You stay at the house with mom and dad, ya’ hear me?”

  “Scott—“

  “I mean it!” I exclaimed. “You’re safe there and the cops are watching the house. Have Sam come and stay with you guys. It’s probably better that way anyways, huh?”

  “Okay… you gonna be okay?”

  I snorted, “Yeah, fuckin’ great. I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow. Love you.”

  I hung up, slid my plate out of the way and laid my head on my folded arms. I felt bone weary, numb all over and defeated. Lisa wrapped an arm around me.

  “This shit’s gotta stop, man,” Wayne said in a cold tone.

  “I know,” I mumbled. “I’m open to suggestions.”

  “We need to do something!” Lisa blurted. “Dammit… can’t we… I don’t know…”

  “That’s the problem,” I said, dragging myself upright again. “Shade is a mystery and can do whatever he wants whenever he wants. All we can do is react. I hate that.”

  “No… he can’t do anything he wants,” Lisa opined thoughtfully. “He’s still one person… he can’t be in two places at once, for one thing.”

  “Which means that he probably couldn’t have been sitting near my house at eleven in the morning and then… then do what he did in Warwick at five or six o’clock, could he?” Sharon asked.

  “That’s six or seven hours,” Wayne pointed out. “Plenty of time to catch a three hour flight.”

  “Yeah, but not enough time to set everything up,” Sharon insisted.

  “Could we check the outgoing flights from Orlando to Providence and maybe… find him?” Juan asked.

  Wayne frowned, “We can check them… but without a description, it’s kind of pointless.”

  “There’s something else, too,” Sharon continued. “He had that biker dude who was killed last week deliver a note to you at Hamburger Mary’s.”

  “That’s right,” Lisa said. “Shade couldn’t have done that himself, obviously.”

  “But why that dude?” Sharon asked. “What made Shade pick him?”

  “Yeah…” I pondered. “Then there’s Soares… a coincidence that they’re both from Rhode Island? I doubt it. So Shade hires Soares, too. Soares either screwed the pooch on Wayne’s car… sorry, man, but—“

  “It’s okay,” Wayne said softly. “I can’t ignore it. It’s part of the investigation.”

  I took in a breath, “So Soares screws up the job on Wayne’s car… or does it on his own for some reason. Shade takes him out just like that biker dude, whatever his name was.”

  “Darren West,” Juan said.

  “Dead men tell no tales,” Sharon pointed out.

  “Hmm…” I drummed my fingers on the table. This mystery and the mental energy it was taking to try and resolve the seemingly discordant bits of information into a pattern was distracting. It was keeping me from thinking about my friend of nearly twenty years being burned to death. I was grateful for Lisa for that.

  “I can hear the gears grinding,” Sharon teased.

  “Why Soares and why West?” I asked no one in particular. “Can’t be random, can it? Certainly not Soares. Prison guard from Rhodey… and Shade being from Rhodey, too…? No way. West, though… just some random guy Shade gives a hundred bucks to deliver an envelope or something? Then Shade goes out and murders the guy in his house? How would he even know the cat’s address? No… no, there’s something there, somewhere…”

  “Then let’s go find out what it is, baby!” Lisa enthused, rising to her feet.

  “All of us?” Wayne asked.

  “Oh, no!” Lisa said with equal ebullience. “You three need to get these dishes done.”

  I chuckled. Sharon chortled, “What? You guys go have an adventure and we clean up the kitchen.”

  “Yeah! Doesn’t that sound awesome?” Lisa declared cheerfully.

  Sharon rolled her eyes, “You’re corrupting her, Scott.”

  “He did refer to me as Twatson,” Lisa stated.

  Wayne, Juan and Sharon guffawed. It was good to see Wayne laugh.

  “Oh, that’s my new favorite word!” Sharon said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Holmes and Twatson, solving mysteries and gobblin’ each other’s junk.”

  “Oh my god…” I muttered. “Yeah, you three are definitely staying home.”

  “Wait…” Wayne asked with narrowed eyes. “Are you guys gonna do something illegal?”

  “Certainly not.” I said disdainfully.

  “What’re you a cop?” Lisa asked suspiciously.

  “Yeah… we’re all cops,” Sharon stated.

  “Then no,” Lisa said with a smile.

  “Oh, balls…” Sharon groaned.

  Juan put a hand on my shoulder, “Tell me what you need, hermano. Anything, and I’m ready.”

  “Even breaking the law?” Sharon teased her boyfriend.

  “Fuck the law,” Juan smiled but he nodded his head slightly, “There are things that go deeper, mi amore.”

  I patted him on the shoulder, “Thanks, Juan.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Sharon quipped as Lisa and I rose. “Tell me more about these things that go deeper…”

  Chapter 18

  From the case file of Gonzalez and what’s his name

  Lisa’s journal entry 4

  You can relax now, I’m back!

  I know, I know… you’re motoring through Scott’s chapters just so you can read mine, I get it. But don’t worry, his are okay too, lol.

  Seriously, though… I think this case is really starting to take its toll on Scott. Emotionally, I mean. It’s just one thing after another. First Wayne and Sheila and now his friend Bill. I’ve never actually met Bill, although Scott and his family talk about him all the time. We went up to Rhode Island at the end of last summer but I guess Bill was busy or out of town or something.

  With all that’s been going on, I kind of feel like I have to take care of him. Not that Scott can’t really handle things on his own… but if I can lend some support and be there for him, then maybe it takes some of the burden off those broad shoulders. He’s always taking care of me, after all.

  So I try to keep him thinking. I try to keep him laughing if I can… and later on, I’ll try and take his mind off his troubles and put all his thoughts and feelings on me.

  It’s a win-win when you think of it. He gets to lose himself in me and let go of his cares for a while… and I get to bang a super-hot guy who’s a friggin’ magician in the sack. I mean, he just has to… oh, better cut this off, lol.

  Honestly, I don’t know how he writes the sex scenes that have appeared in the last few books. I love sex, but writing it down… I don’t know, it just makes me feel…self-conscious! I know, weird right?

  Anyway, we left the children to clean up the kitchen. There wasn’t much, honestly. They’d be okay at Scott’s with the boys watching them. I just hope that Sharon and Juan didn’t make to
o much noise later. Poor Wayne has enough on his mind without being reminded of Sheila and what he’s lost.

  Poor guy…

  Scott drove his Jeep up Chickasaw and then turned left on Curry Ford Road and then right onto Goldenrod. I’d not only remembered the biker’s name but the address from the newscast as well. Why the hell they’d told the general public the guy lived at 5782 Garden Way in Ocoee I don’t know… but its information we could use.

  Once on the 408, we headed west where we’d take it all the way to the end and get off by the West Oaks Mall. Scott was mostly silent until we got on the toll road.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” I asked.

  He looked over at me and cocked an eyebrow, “That’s it? My thoughts are worth at least a nickel.”

  “I ain’t made of money.”

  He laughed, “Just driving myself nuts in my own noggin. Also thinking that I probably will have to fly up north in the next day or two.”

  “Check on the fam?” I asked.

  He nodded, “Yeah, and to speak with Sam and probably attend Bill’s service or something… and maybe do a little poking around. I want this guy, Lisa… I want him so bad I can taste it.”

  “I know,” I said softly. “You want me to come?”

  “Repeatedly,” We both said in unison and laughed. I was glad he could laugh still.

  “Do you think we can catch Shade?” I asked him.

  He glanced over and narrowed his eyes at me, “We? Who’s the detective here?”

  I grinned, “I’m letting you help. Gonzalez and… uhm… that guy… are hot on the trail! Zing!”

  He laughed out loud, “Anybody ever tell you that you’re loca?””

  “No… never. Well… I mean… nobody that ever wanted to get in my pants, anyway.”

  He shook his head, “We’ve been living together for a little over a week and already it starts.”

  “That’s right, love… you think and act exactly as I wish or you don’t get your hands on the goodies.”

  He groaned. I giggled and took his hand, “Seriously, though…”

  He sighed, “I believe we can get him. I think we will get him… it’s just a matter of how long it’s gonna take and how many people have to suffer before I… we… figure it out.”

  “I don’t think we’re far away,” I offered. “Think about how much we know now that we didn’t know when Marie Franco walked into the office last week. We know Shade is from Rhode Island, we have a partial physical description and we also know that he’s incredibly arrogant.”

  Scott nodded in thought, “Yeah… I’d say so. Remember on the phone? When I said that I knew he was from up north he said that he’d used certain expressions and stuff on purpose. That he meant for me to figure it out…”

  “But now you’re thinking that’s not so?” I asked.

  He shrugged, “No idea… but maybe. I’ve always had a hypothesis about stuff like this… well, a couple of them, actually.”

  “About how the more an opponent does… the more moves he or she makes… the more clues they leave?”

  “Exactly. That also goes for communication. ‘The stronger the tie of two-way communication, the more information flows to us.”

  “Makes sense,” I said.

  “We always start at a major disadvantage,” Scott continued. “On a new case, we know nothing or next to nothing. Yet as we go forward, our opponent, if there is one, starts to suffer from a disadvantage. The more he acts, the more we learn… the more we learn, the less he can act. Does that make sense?”

  I thought for a moment, “It’s like a set of scales. Slowly over time, our side gets heavier and his side gets lighter. Eventually we’re balanced out and it takes only a single thing to tip them.”

  Scott squeezed my hand and as Holmes he said: “Very good, Watson. I believe that this is more than a simple coincidence… I believe that when dealing with a criminal element, this scale balancing is a scientific process and even more… a cosmic force such as gravity, electro-magnetism or horniness… as you know, I’ve written a monograph on the subject.”

  I laughed, “Horniness? And you have not!”

  He sniffed, “Well… maybe I should. In truth, I probably should. I believe in this thing… we could call it Jarvis’ law. That in dealing with an active criminal opponent, it’s inevitable that their actions will lead to their downfall, no matter how careful they are. Maybe Sun Tzu put it better when he said, ‘The opportunity to secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own hands, but the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself.’”

  “I don’t doubt you,” I said. “It seems to have worked a lot.”

  “I’ve even written down my thoughts on this,” He said. “In Shadows, for example, I wrote down my musings about how I mostly solve cases through instinct and my knowledge of human nature rather than a pile of empirical evidence. Not that there isn’t any… but so often it’s my running around and trying to get in my opponent’s head that leads me to the solution. It’s more a matter of when it’ll happen, not if it’ll happen.”

  “That’s really interesting…” I said. “Maybe you should write something on it. I mean like a guide or a how to book or something.”

  He scoffed, “Who has time for that shit? Okay, we’re almost at the exit, where do I go?”

  I consulted my phone and gave him directions. We got off onto Highway Fifty near the West Oaks Mall and followed a few side streets and into West’s trailer park. His unit was still wrapped in police caution tape.

  “Oh no… plastic ribbon!” I gasped. “What do we do?”

  Scott hung his head, “Give up, of course. I mean… there’s no way through that barrier.”

  “Yeah… we should just go home. I am freshly shaved, after all.”

  Scott shook his head, “That’s not helping.”

  I giggled and followed him up to the trailer’s front… er… side door. He pulled a small pouch from his pocket and opened it.

  “You and your little sack,” I teased, covering my mouth to stifle a laugh.

  “Oh, you’re just full of beans tonight, huh?” Scott whispered as he drew out a couple of small tools.

  “And look how tiny and cute your tool is!” I snickered, having to hold my hand hard on my mouth to keep from bursting out.

  “You know, you’re supposed to take this seriously,” Scott chided. “We’re like detectiveing n’junk. Not to mention breakin’ the law… breakin’ the law…”

  I had tears in my eyes now, “Oh, Judas Priest! Okay, okay… I’m good.”

  “Well one of us has to be… to make up for my tiny tool and miniature sack.”

  I buried my face in his chest and roared with laughter. When I recovered, Scott gave my butt a squeeze and turned to the door.

  “Oh man…” I breathed. “It’s so fun to be with you… and by the way, just to set the record straight, baby… if you came down two sizes you’d still be above average.”

  I grabbed one of his hard round cheeks and squeezed.

  He chuckled and went to work on the lock. It was pretty easy, I guess, it only took him a few seconds. He then cut the caution tape with a pocket knife and taped the broken ends to the side of the trailer with Scotch tape. Then we went inside.

  I really didn’t know what we were looking for. I guess you never do when breaking into somebody’s home illegally… or even legally. When I asked Scott, he simply shrugged and said anything that looks odd.

  Yeah… that’s a big help. I’ve never been in the dump before, so what the hell would seem odd to me?

  The place looked much like it must have when the Sheriff’s office showed up. The police had gone over it, but they’d left everything as it had been when West was shot. There were dirty dishes in the kitchen sink, a half empty can of beer on the coffee table in the living room and a pretty big mess in the master bedroom.

  “What do you think happened in here?” I whispered as we shined our flashlights around.

&nb
sp; “Somebody made a mess,” Scott said deadpan.

  “You know, you’re not as funny as you think you are.”

  “Yeah… I’m more funnier in truth.”

  I giggled, “More funnier?”

  “It’s a writing thing,” Scott commented as he carefully picked through the mess. “Not meant for you to worry your pretty lil’ girl brain over.”

  “I will kick your ass.”

  “Promise?” he asked with a grinning leer.

  Every drawer in the dresser had been pulled out and overturned. The nightstands, the bed clothes and even the cabinets and drawers in the small master bath had been ransacked.

  “This wasn’t the Sheriff’s guys, was it?” I asked.

  “No way,” Scott replied. “Cops aren’t all that worried about your personal shit if they’re searching your place… if the search is to find contraband or something. Yet they aren’t this destructive. No, this was the work of somebody pissed off.”

  “Shade.” It wasn’t really a question.

  He nodded, “That’d be my guess… Christ, what a mess… why don’t you keep looking around the rest of the joint. I’ll sift through this rubble… Man, does this blow an entire school of chipmunk.”

  I laughed, “Where do you come up with this stuff?”

  “It’s a gift,” He said. “Don’t be shy. Look under furniture, look for labels, shit taped under other shit… think like somebody trying to hide something.”

  So I did.

  I went out and started looking everywhere. I thought that what I should try first was to look in bizarre places, places you wouldn’t normally think of. Then I’d work my way to the obvious.

  My thinking was that the cops would have already checked the obvious, and if there had been anything, they’d have found it. I looked in the fridge and freezer, inside boxes and jars and containers.

  “Think Philip Marlowe,” Scott called out just loud enough for me to hear.

  I didn’t know what he meant for a second, and then I got an idea. In one of Chandler’s novels, The Lady in the Lake, Phil is searching a guy’s mountain cabin. The local constable already had, and Phil saw evidence of it. So he went deeper. In a box of confectioner’s sugar, I think it was, he found a tiny locket that went to an anklet.