Jack Ryder Mystery Series: Vol 1-3

by Willow Rose

  Chapter Eighty-One

  March 2015

  The house was empty. I was secondary, since I was operating on British soil, so I wasn’t let inside before the Bahamian Police had been inside to make sure it was safe. I walked inside and went through all the ten or more bedrooms, but there were no signs of any of the sisters.

  I should’ve known. They’re not that stupid.

  I walked through what I believed was the master bedroom and onto the balcony, where I could see the Bahamian officers walking through the yard, searching every corner. I felt so tired. I had been so sure that this was the place…that I would find them here. But it was yet another dead end.

  I walked back into the bedroom looked inside the closets and found many dresses, shoes, and suitcases, but there was no telling if that was something new or it was just here so the sisters didn’t have to bring much when they arrived. I found jewelry on the dresser and a hairdryer in the bathroom, along with several toothbrushes. It looked like someone was living here, but I couldn’t be sure that it was recently. I was about to leave, when I saw something on the floor. I picked it up and looked at it. A tag from a dress. I turned it and looked at the name on the back.

  “I’m afraid we don’t find them here,” the commissioner said, as he walked in. I showed him the tag.

  “I know that place,” he said. “It’s in downtown Nassau.” He rubbed his fingertips against each other on one hand. “Pricey place.”

  “Take me there,” I said.

  The commissioner told his officers they were done at the house, then drove all of us back to Nassau. We found the small store in the middle of town and I walked in, flanked by two officers. I showed the woman behind the counter the picture of the four sisters and she pointed at one of them, Natalie Monahan.

  “This one. She was in here yesterday. Bought three dresses.”

  “Did she say anything about where she was going?” I asked, almost overflowing with excitement. Finally, I had found her trail. I hadn’t been wrong about this. She was here. Somewhere.

  The woman shook her head. “No.”

  I was about to leave when the woman stopped me. “But she did say she wanted to dress nicely for a man.”

  I stopped and looked at her. “A man?”

  “Yes, a man,” she said with her strong island accent.

  “Do you know anything about this man?”

  The lady shook her head. “I just sold her some new dresses.”

  Once again, I was disillusioned. It was getting late and the sun was about to set. The commissioner drove me to my hotel and I checked in. I lay on the bed of the room, watching the local news and dozing off, when the story of a famous American baseball player named Todd Quentin came on. Apparently, he lived in The Bahamas now, since he had retired, but recently he had been involved in a scandal. Apparently, his ex-wife accused him of having locked their son in the basement because he told his dad he was gay.

  “According to the ex-wife, Todd Quentin wouldn’t let the son come out again until he admitted he wasn’t gay and said that he had just been joking. The ex-wife was out of town when the incident happened, but divorced him as soon as she learned what he had done, and today, she decided to drag him to court and demand full custody of their son,” said the reporter in her story filmed outside of a building I recognized as the one marking the entrance of the Lyford Cay community.

  I stared at the screen and turned off the sound, while trying to straighten out my thoughts.

  Could it be? Could it really be?

  I grabbed my phone and called the commissioner.

  “I need to get back into Lyford Cay,” I said. “Yes it has to be right now. It’s a matter of life and death.”

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  March 2015

  Natalie Monahan was enjoying her evening with Todd Quentin. Not because of the celebrity company, but more because she was so excited about finally being able to wipe that smirk off of his face. She had been dating him on and off for months now, whenever she visited the island and stayed in her sister’s house. It wasn’t his money she was after. Lord, no. She had enough for herself. After their parents died, they had all inherited enough money for them to never have to work again. No, just like her job as a school psychologist, this was her charity work; this was her passion; this was her helping out where society had failed.

  “More champagne?” Todd asked with his handsome smile.

  He was older than her, by fifteen years, give or take. But he liked his women young, she had learned.

  Natalie had played it all out with him. Ever since she had heard the story about him and his son. She had approached him at the golf course and he had asked if she wanted a drink in the bar afterwards. Then, she had let him fuck her in the bathroom, just to make sure she had him on the hook. Now he was caressing her hand and it gave Natalie chills all over her back, especially since she knew what was on his mind. His little sex games had become worse and worse, but she had played along…until now, that was. Tonight, she was going to give him what he deserved.

  “Yes, please,” she said and thought of the nine mm in her purse. She couldn’t wait to see his face when she pulled it out. The question was, how far she was willing to let him go?

  “I do enjoy these small meetings,” he said and looked into her eyes. He had served her dinner on the balcony overlooking the ocean. It was gorgeous with all the lights in the yard beneath them.

  She forced a smile. “Me too.”

  He grabbed her hand and yanked her forward so hard she hurt herself on the table. “Have you been a bad girl, huh?”

  She tried not to show she was hurt. She smiled. “So bad.”

  “Tell me how bad. You’ve been playing with yourself, huh?”

  Natalie felt sick to her stomach. She hated these little games he played. It was terrible, so cliché. And then there was the sex. How this sick bastard could ever have thought any woman would find that pleasing was beyond her understanding. No, this world, and especially the women of this world, would be happy that she removed him from the surface of the earth. It was in everyone’s best interest.

  Natalie couldn’t help thinking about his son. She had met him at the house once. He was twelve and so vulnerable, and yet Todd had yelled at him and called him a fruitcake. He had even slapped him when he didn’t answer him correctly.

  She had fought the desire to kill the guy right then. She wanted to wait. It had to be done at the right time. And that time was now.

  “Oh, yes. A lot.”

  Todd Quentin laughed loudly and let go of her hand. He continued to shovel down food with his fork. “I like that,” he said with his mouth full. He pointed at her with his fork. “I really like that. You sure are something. You’re nothing like all those boring housewife bitches you see around here with all their money, charities, and hats. Oh, how I loathe those hats they all wear.”

  “Well, I’m nothing like that,” she said chuckling. “You’re right about that.”

  He stared at her with lust in his eyes and shook his head. “No, lady. You’re fine. You are so fine and so damn sexy. I could ride you all night long.”

  “I bet you could.”

  Chapter Eighty-Three

  March 2015

  We had just parked the van in front of Todd Quentin’s mansion when we heard the gunshots. Two shots were fired right after one another.

  “Break my heart again and I’ll put two bullets in yours,” I said and looked at the commissioner.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s a song. It means we’re too late.”

  I rushed up the driveway, and secondary or not, I ran inside of the house. The commissioner and his officers were right behind me.

  “It sounded like it came from upstairs,” I yelled and ran up the carpeted stairs. I found myself, seconds later, on the balcony, where I stopped. Right there on the tiles, next to a table with food and champagne in a bucket, stood the famous baseball player Todd Quentin, holding a nine mm
gun in his hand. He was naked from the waist down. In front of him lay Natalie Monahan on the floor. She was completely naked, her dress on the floor behind the chair, her panties next to it. She was holding a hand to her stomach, where the blood was streaming out from a big wound.

  Todd Quentin looked at me. He was crying. “I…I…she was about to shoot me. She pulled this thing out of her purse while we were…I thought it was a toy. I thought she was playing a game. But then she said she wanted to kill me. She asked me if I knew what it was like to be hated by your own dad, to be abused by the one person who was supposed to love you and protect you. I had no idea what she was talking about. Then, she cocked it and lifted it to pull the trigger. I had to move fast. So, I did. I grabbed the barrel of the gun from her hand and…I got it and turned it at her, told her to not come closer. But she was screaming and yelling, and then she…she leapt towards me and I…I pulled the trigger. I had to.”

  Three Bahamian officers were soon all over him and got the gun out of his hand. He was cuffed and taken away. I knelt next to Natalie Monahan. She was still conscious, but only barely.

  “Natalie. Can you hear me?” I asked. “Stay with me. Okay? We have ambulances coming.”

  Natalie looked at me. I could tell she was holding on to her life with everything she had, all the strength she could find. I felt so desperate.

  “Don’t go, Natalie. We need you.”

  I heard ambulances wailing in the distance. They didn’t sound like the ones I was used to, but I knew it was them.

  “Just hold on for a little while longer. I know everything, Natalie. I know your entire story. I know how your father abused you. I know how one of you was pregnant and gave the child away. I know how the child died. I know that you and your sisters made a pact. I need you to tell me the rest, Natalie. I need you.”

  Natalie opened her mouth, as if she wanted to say something to me, but no words left her lips. I could tell she was struggling to find the strength. Finally, a word managed to come out of her. A small still word I could barely hear through all the noise coming from down the stairs.

  “…sorry…”

  I looked directly into her eyes as she went into a cramp. Her eyes died first. Then her body gave in and became limp in my hands.

  “No!” I yelled, as a paramedic came rushing in and took her out of my hands. But it didn’t matter. There was nothing they could do. She was gone.

  Chapter Eighty-Four

  March 2015

  I came home three days later and threw myself on the couch with a loud sigh. I was finished in the Bahamas, where I had gone through all the belongings found in The Millmans’ big house, and together with the police there, finished the Bahamian side to the case. Todd Quentin was, once again, facing a media frenzy, since everyone was talking about him, both in the Bahamas and back here in the U.S. Finally, it seemed like they had forgotten about Shannon. At least for a little while. I hoped that gave her the peace and quiet she needed. I had noticed the reporters and photographers were all gone from the entrance to our building, so that was a start. I knew my mother had been taking care of all the children, even Angela, for as long as I was gone, but I had no idea how Shannon had been doing. I feared the worst, to be honest.

  The case against the Monahan sisters wasn’t closed, and it wasn’t solved either. I was told Sarah Millman had been released on bail, and now it was up to me to build the case against her. Stanley Bradley had identified her as one of the two keeping him hostage, so that was at least a beginning. We were going for charging her with the murders of her husband and Roy Miller. The two other sisters would be charged with assisting her and the fourth sister, Natalie, in planning her shootings, but it was like they had like sunken into the ground. Their pictures had been shown everywhere, but still there was no trace of them. I hadn’t given up on finding them, but prepared myself for the fact that it would take a long time before we did. They would mess up eventually. They all did.

  Beth was awake, Richard told me on the phone. She had gone through a severe skin transplant, but was much better now. She had been asking for me. I promised I would go see her the next day. And, Ron was back, Richard said. He was supposed to be on sick leave for at least three weeks, but he couldn’t stay away.

  “I think the old wife drove him nuts,” Richard said. “She is constantly terrified something is going to happen to him again. She wanted him to quit the force, can you imagine?”

  “No. I really can’t,” I said. “The force is his entire life.”

  It was the truth. He always said we were his second family. And if anyone loved his family, it was Ron. Both of them.

  I was sitting on my couch and had opened the windows to listen to the waves, when there was a knock on my door. I got up and opened it. Outside, stood Shannon. Her eyes were clearer, even though she looked very sad.

  “I’m so, so sorry,” she said.

  I smiled and sighed. “Come in.”

  “I can’t blame you for being angry with me. I don’t know what got into me. I feel awful, Jack. I really do.”

  “So, now you’re here to tell me you’re sober, is that it?” I asked.

  “I am sober. I have been for three days now.”

  I shrugged. “And how am I supposed to believe that? You said that last week too. So what if you’re sober now? You’ll drink next week or the week after that. This case isn’t over; they still haven’t found the gun. It will keep going; there will come more bad news, eventually, in the coming months; they’ll write bad things about you again. Then what? Then you’ll go back to drinking again?”

  Shannon shook her head. I saw a light in them I hadn’t seen in a long time. Maybe never.

  “I won’t, Jack. I really won’t.”

  I rubbed my eyes and leaned back in the couch. I really wanted to believe her, but how could I? I didn’t want to get hurt again. I didn’t want to stand and watch as she hurt herself and her daughter. I simply couldn’t.

  “Shannon…I…I don’t know if I can trust you again. I don’t want to live a life where I am constantly afraid you might slip again. I can’t watch you all hours of the day. You need to make the decision that you want to get better. You have to make the decision to not drink again.”

  She nodded. “I know,” she said. “And I have.”

  “So, how can I trust that you won’t drink again in, let’s say…in a month?”

  “Because I won’t. I really won’t, Jack. Not for the next nine months.”

  “You say that now, and then you…” I paused and looked at her. “Did you say nine months?”

  Shannon bit her lip and then she nodded. “I don’t know how this happened…”

  I got up from the couch and put both hands in my hair while staring at her, then took them out and sat down again. Seconds later, I got up again and walked back and forth while my thoughts settled. I turned and looked at her, then sat down again. My mouth was open, but no words left my lips. Shannon nodded. She seemed happy, yet anxious.

  “I’m terrified too, Jack, but…”

  “Terrified?” I finally managed to say. “I wouldn’t call it that.”

  “What would you call it?” she looked at me. “You do want it, don’t you?”

  “Are you kidding me? Look around. I love kids. The more the merrier, right?”

  Shannon chuckled. I put my arm around her and pulled her close. This changed everything. “And, you’re sure, right?”

  She nodded again. “I took four tests. Today, I went to the doctor and he told me I was six weeks pregnant.”

  I shook my head. “Wow,” I said. “That is really something.”

  “It sure is,” she said and leaned in against me.

  “So, what do you say we move in together?” I asked.

  She looked up at me, then kissed my lips. “I would like that. I would really love that, Jack.”

  I looked around the condo that had been my home for seven years, mine and the kids’ home. It had been a time of great happiness when the
twins were born and of great sadness when their mother left us. I had cried and laughed a lot in this place. I loved that it was right on the water, but now I was beginning to think it was time for a change.

  “Maybe we should get a house together,” I said. “One that is big enough for us and all of our children.”

  Shannon smiled again. “That sounds great. I saw that there was a lot for sale two blocks down. We would still be on the ocean and still in walking distance to your parents’ place. We could buy that.”

  “And build our own dream house. I like the sound of that,” I said. I had always wanted to build my own house. “But, there is no way I can afford that on my salary. A lot like that is close to a million, and then there’s the house…”

  “You might not be able to. But I could,” Shannon said.

  “Oh, Shannon, I couldn’t…”

  “Of course you can. We’re about to be parents. Last time I checked this is 2015. A woman can buy her family a house and provide for them.”

  I had a tickling sensation in my stomach. I leaned down and kissed Shannon again. I was just so happy to have her back to the woman I loved. Could we do this? Why not?

  “Guess I’m building you a house, then,” I said.

  She chuckled. “We’ll all live in the house that Jack built.”

  Epilogue

  HOP ON THE BUS

  Chapter Eighty-Five

  April 2015

  Katie looked out the window of the bus. Florida’s flat landscape raced by as she continued her way back home. At first, the police had asked her to stay until they were done with the investigation of Britney’s murder. They had asked all of them to stay, but let the others go a few days before they told Katie she could go back home.