Jack Ryder Mystery Series: Vol 4-6

by Willow Rose

  "True," I said. "But why kill the daughter too?"

  "Affect," Weasel said. "Rage. He was angry with all of them. Blamed them for his loneliness. Or maybe the girl surprised him and then he had to kill her too not to get caught."

  "In my opinion, the killings didn't exactly look like they were done in affect," I said. "They seemed calculated. Planned out. Using the bags and tying them up and everything. It wasn't a sudden thing. He didn't accidentally kill them."

  "Jack's got a point," Joe Hall said.

  "He does," Weasel said. "But let's grill the dad some more before we decide who's right, okay? Give him all you've got this afternoon."

  "Will do," I said.

  "Did he have an alibi?" Weasel added.

  Mike Wagner shook his head. "Not a bulletproof one. They were killed in the morning, right before they were about to leave for school and work. At that time, Jim—that's the dad—was getting ready for work himself. He works as a security guard for KDL."

  "Check the GPS in his phone for his whereabouts on that morning," Weasel said.

  "He could have left the phone at home," I argued.

  "Still, if it places him at the scene, then we have something to go by," Weasel said. "Now the boy, Parker. What do we know about him?"

  "He's still fighting for his life," I said. "I spoke to the hospital this morning, and there has been no improvement. We know that he goes to Cocoa Beach Jr./Sr. High, where he just started tenth grade. The teachers there love him, and all say he's a great kid. They don't know of any family problems at home or with the dad."

  "All right," she said. "Did he suffer any abuse before he ran into the street?"

  I shook my head. "It's hard to tell, but the doctors don't think so. He might have seen what happened and then just run away."

  "So, no bruises on wrists or arms where the killer might have tried to hold him?" Weasel asked.

  "Not according to the doctors, no," I said. "My guess is the killer never got to him."

  "Okay, so maybe the killer doesn’t know that he saw what happened, if we assume he did."

  "That was my next point," I said. "I think we need to put a guard up at the hospital in case the killer finds out he survived. He might want to get rid of him."

  Weasel nodded. "Good thinking. I'll have that done right away. All right, people. We need to get back to work. I need a volunteer to attend “Coffee with the Mayor” tonight. You know, just to make sure no crazy person decides to attack him because of the red tide in the rivers or anything. Moods around here are quite agitated lately."

  "I'll do it," Marty said. He had been very quiet through it all, and that was unusual for Marty during briefings. He was usually a jokester and a funny guy, but I guess this case had taken its toll on him as well. I couldn't blame him. He was an excellent choice for the “Coffee with the Mayor” event. It was usually a very nice event where the citizens of Cocoa Beach could come and ask the mayor about anything concerning the town, but lately, the meetings had become quite agitated due to the dirty water in our canals and rivers. I couldn't blame people for being angry, but I wasn't sure our poor Mayor Campbell could do much about it. This was an issue all over Florida, not just Cocoa Beach.

  The door opened, and someone poked her head in. It was Cassandra, the new face at the front desk.

  "Detective Ryder, Mr. Reynolds is here for you."

  I looked at my watch. "He's early. I'll be there in one sec."

  I rose to my feet, looked at Joe hall, then asked him to come with me. It wasn't until I walked out the door that I remembered I had forgotten to call Shannon back. I decided it had to wait.

  Chapter 20

  Cocoa Beach 2008

  The chickens brought the boy great joy for a very long time. Even more so when they grew up, and he realized Isabella was a boy chicken and the boy renamed him Hector. Soon, Victoria started producing eggs, and the boy would give them to his momma with the result that she would smile at him. There really was nothing like making Momma smile.

  Every morning, the boy ran outside and gathered the eggs from the enclosure, then rushed back to his momma and handed them to her, waiting for that particular smile and the recognition in the shape of a Thank you from her lips. Those two words would seem small to many, but to the boy, they meant the world because they were so rare. Even her looking at him, seeing him was so rare it would leave him exhilarated once he received it. And he did that every morning, at least for a little while.

  Until one morning when baby sister suddenly decided to let go of the table and begin to walk on her own. The boy was standing in the kitchen, holding the eggs out to Mother when it happened. Mother's face changed, and suddenly she didn't look at the boy anymore. She rose to her feet with a gasp and walked to the baby, who was staggering across the floor all by herself. Now, the boy knew this was a big development since Momma had been very worried about baby sister and why she hadn't started to walk or talk yet, given she would soon turn two years old, and the boy had heard Momma and Daddy talk about it very loudly in the kitchen when they thought the boy was asleep. So, the boy understood that this was a great moment for baby sister, and he accepted the fact that Momma wasn't going to give him a smile and a Thank you, on this particular morning, and he went on about his day not worrying about it anymore. Not until the next morning when he went to gather the eggs and rushed to Momma in the kitchen only to find that she wasn't there. He heard a noise from the living room, then rushed in there and found baby sister staggering around, her arms stretched in the air, while Momma was sitting on the floor, clapping her hands at every move the child made. She didn't look at him when he entered.

  "Momma?" he said.

  She didn't react. The boy held out the eggs. They were still warm between his hands.

  "I have your eggs?"

  But his mother didn't even turn to look. Instead, she laughed and clapped as baby sister took a series of steps across the tiles with a joyful shriek, then tumbled and fell flat on her face.

  "Momma?" the boy said as she rushed to the baby who let out an ear-piercing scream. "I have your eggs. Aren't you gonna take them, Momma? Please? Momma? MOMMA?"

  The boy didn't even realize he had yelled it out, nor did he notice that one of the eggs had rolled out of his hand and onto the floor where it had smashed onto the carpet.

  "Not now, boy," she hissed at him. "Can't you see that your sister needs me?" She grabbed baby sister into her arms and comforted her, then approached him. She didn't even look at him but spotted the smashed egg in the carpet with a deep exhale. It was followed by a quick yet painful slap across the boy's face.

  "Now, look what you've done! As if I haven't enough to do around here as it is."

  His mother left the living room, and as the boy stood there—his cheek burning from the slap—staring at the yellow yolk in the carpet, he clenched his fist around the other egg so hard it splattered inside of his palm and dripped onto the carpet.

  He never brought his mother eggs again.

  Chapter 21

  August 2018

  "How many times do I have to say the same thing over and over again?"

  Jim Reynolds looked at me, annoyed. He was a big man, especially when he stood up. Not only was he tall, around six feet seven or eight would be my guess. He was also very muscular, which I guessed served him well working as a security guard.

  "I was getting ready for work. I had to be at my post at nine, and I was. Just ask my boss."

  "We did, and he confirmed," I said.

  "So, why am I here? This was my family that was attacked. I’m the one who lost someone."

  "You were at your post at nine o'clock, but that still gives you plenty of time to drive to Cocoa Beach and back," Joe Hall said.

  "You clearly don't know much about morning traffic then," Jim said. "It takes at least forty-five minutes to get from Palm Bay to Cocoa Beach."

  "You could have spent the night in Cocoa Beach," I said. "Or maybe driven very early, surprised them, and wa
ited in their house till they woke up."

  He leaned back in his chair with a deep sigh.

  "Whatever."

  I realized I was thirsty, so I drank some water from my cup. Jim hadn't touched his coffee that I had served him when he got there, trying to break the ice. It hadn't worked. The guy had all his defenses up from the beginning of the interview. It made it a lot harder to get anything out of him that we could use.

  "The thing is, Jim. You have a motive. You were angry at your ex, at Amber for keeping the kids from you, am I right?"

  "Who wouldn't be?" he said. "She wouldn't let me see them. I miss them, you know? But she didn't give me a chance."

  "Ever think about hurting her?" I asked.

  He answered with a tsk and an eye roll, reminding me of Emily. Everything about his behavior struck me as being a little childish.

  Joe rustled some papers, then said:

  "Amber applied to have a restraining order put on you three months ago. Care to explain that? She told the officer, and I quote, that ‘she was afraid of you and you had hit her on several occasions.’ Now, the request was denied by the court since she had no proof of the abuse, no pictures or current bruises, and she had never contacted the police for assistance, but it does paint quite the picture, doesn’t it?"

  Jim shook his head. "I didn't kill her, though."

  "You only beat her?" I asked, repulsed. I hated wife-beaters more than anything.

  "As I said, I didn't kill her. If you want to ask me more questions, I think I'll need to have a lawyer present."

  I looked at Joe, then back at Jim. "I think we're done here for now anyway."

  I closed the file shut. "But stay around. We might need to have another chat with you again later."

  Jim leaned forward in his seat.

  "I wouldn't even think about leaving. Parker is in the hospital fighting for his life. I’m all he has left. What kind of a man do you take me for?"

  Chapter 22

  August 2018

  I picked up Tyler from the church's daycare and brought him with me to the hospital. I had been visiting Parker every day since the accident, just to remind me why it was important that this case was solved. I was doing this for him, for his sake. If he ever woke up, I wanted to be here to tell him that we had managed to get justice for his family. The murders of his mother and sister were so brutal that I needed to catch this monster to be able to believe in the good of this world again. I had rarely faced such an evil crime scene, such evil in every way the murderer had acted toward this family. And I couldn't let evil win. Not if I was to believe that I was raising my kids into a better world. I wanted my kids to grow up knowing that justice prevailed, that evil never won.

  I entered Parker Reynolds' room and left Tyler with the officer that Weasel had placed outside the room. His name was Chris and had been transferred to the Cocoa Beach department two years ago. He knew Tyler well, and the two of them had a chat while I went to look at Parker.

  I pulled up a chair next to him and sat down. Parker didn't make a noise; all that told me he was still alive was the machine breathing for him. The tubes and the beeping monitors made the entire scene so incredibly creepy.

  "Spoke to your dad today," I said. "I wouldn't say he was a nice guy, but then again, these types of interviews and situations tend to bring out the worst in people. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt, I guess. As of now, he's my only suspect, but I’m not sure I believe he killed your mom and your sister. I do, however, think she had her reasons for kicking him out, and I am terribly sorry that he is your only family left once you get out of here. And you will get out of here, Parker. You hear me? You'll beat this. And once you do, I will have caught this bastard. Mark my words."

  I sighed and looked out the window at the river. This had to be the hospital with the best views in the world. It was placed with river water on three sides of it, and if you were in one of the top floors—like Parker was since I had pulled some strings with a few contacts I had in the hospital—you could actually see the ocean too. It was just so sad that Parker wouldn't be able to enjoy it.

  I could hear Tyler squealing in the hall outside and looked at my watch. It was getting late, and my mom had dinner ready for us. It was Friday, and I was looking forward to a much-needed weekend ahead. All I wanted was to hang out on the beach with my kiddos and maybe go surfing if there were still waves. But as I said goodbye to Parker and returned to Officer Chris, I saw him hold a hand to Tyler's forehead, and I knew those plans were already spoiled.

  "I think he might have a fever," Chris said.

  I sighed deeply. "Oh, how great."

  I grabbed Tyler in my arms and felt him myself. Yup. That was a fever all right.

  I said goodbye to Chris, then returned to my car and drove to my parents’ place, where I put Tyler in front of the TV and served him some mashed potatoes that he didn't eat. I watched TV with him for a few minutes till he fell asleep and I walked outside to be with my parents and all the other kids for a little while.

  "Still no Emily?" my mom asked as she served me some fried chicken and mashed potatoes.

  I shook my head and grabbed the beer my dad handed me. The kids all threw themselves at the food.

  "I haven't seen her since yesterday. And that was just briefly when I got back from work. She hardly wants to speak to me. She stays in that room all night and all day. And she's not eating anything. When I ask her if she is, she says she ate something earlier, but I don't believe her."

  My mom sat down across from me, grabbed my hand in hers, and forced me to look her in the eyes, the way she used to when I was a child, and she had something important to discuss.

  "Jack. You need to do something about her. Soon."

  "Don't give me that look, Mom. I’m trying my best here. What do you want me to do, huh? I’ve tried everything. Nothing is working."

  My mom bit her lip, then said:

  "Spend time with her."

  "What do you mean spend time with her? I spend plenty of time with her, or I used to, but now she doesn’t even want to talk to me. She'll hardly even look at me when I come into her room."

  "What does every teenager ask themselves?" my mom said. "What's the one thing they ask themselves constantly?"

  I sighed and shrugged, then sipped my beer. "How am I supposed to know? Who knows how teenagers think?"

  "Am I loved?" my mom said. "That's what they want to know. That's what they are constantly searching for confirmation of. Children do that too, but it becomes especially pressing once they reach their teens. Does anyone love me? That's what they want to know. You need to let her feel that. You need to make her feel valuable. Like she matters to you."

  I leaned back in my patio chair and sipped my beer again. "But she knows that. Doesn't she?"

  "I’m not sure she does. You're not her birth father. You took her in because her mother was killed. When it was just her, then yes, I think she might have felt like she belonged, but since then, Emily has been putting herself aside for years while the twins were more important, while Tyler was. Even while Shannon and Betsy Sue became more important to you. It’s her turn now. The girl has no idea who she is. You need to help her. You’re her dad. You want to be her dad, right?"

  "Of course. It hurts me like crazy when she calls me Jack and not dad," I said. "I hate when she does it."

  "You don't become a dad just because someone calls you one, just as little as sitting in a garage makes you a car. It's time you act like one too. It's time you attend to her needs. As a dad, you know exactly what they are."

  "She needs to eat, and I’m always trying to feed her," I said. "But I can't force her."

  "I think it goes a little deeper than that, and I’m certain you know it does," my mom said and got up from her seat.

  I watched her walk to the kitchen and bring back a key lime pie, much to the children's joy. I studied them as they threw themselves at it while wondering how my mother had become so smart. I did know exactly wh
at Emily needed, and I had been putting it off for way too long.

  Chapter 23

  August 2018

  I woke up the next morning realizing I had once again forgotten to call Shannon. Actually, it wasn't until after I had served breakfast for all the kids and put Tyler down for a nap that I remembered. Tyler had been awake—and kept me awake—for most of the night, crying his little heart out. Once I saw him close his eyes and I snuck out, that was when it struck me. I was supposed to have called her back. There had just been so much.

  I looked at my watch, then Angela came toward me, crying. Immediately, I forgot my phone when I saw the scrape on her knee.

  "We were skateboarding outside on the pavement," she said, sobbing.

  "And then you fell," I said. "It happens. Come let me clean it up for you."

  We walked downstairs, and I found the first aid kit when the door slammed open, and Abigail came rushing inside, an angry look on her face.

  "Austin is an idiot," she said.

  "What have I told you about calling your brother names?" I asked.

  She looked up at me with her big blue eyes. She was going to be such a knockout once she reached those teenage years; I had already started to dread it.

  "To not to?" she said.

  Carefully, I cleansed Angela's wound, while she sniffed and wiped away tears. She moved her leg in pain.

  "Sit still, please," I said.

  "It's all his fault, you know," Abigail said and stared at Angela's wound with huge eyes.

  "This is Austin's fault?" I asked.

  Abigail nodded. "He didn't want to hold Angela's hand."

  "They were holding hands while on the skateboard?" I asked.

  "No, because Austin didn't want to," Abigail said. "Keep up, Dad."

  "If Austin doesn’t want to hold someone's hand, then he doesn’t have to," I said. "That doesn’t mean it was his fault Angela crashed."