Jake's Burn

by Randy Rawls

  Her smile hid the true meaning of the words as I felt smaller and smaller.

  When she left the room, I stood, poured a cup of coffee and took a sweet roll. Why not? It was Jake’s dime.

  In my most nonchalant manner, I sat back down, sipping and nibbling.

  Jake glared at me. I thought I could hear his Rolex ticking. With what they cost, I always assumed they were silent. But then, the closest I’d ever been to one was on Jake’s wrist. What did I know?

  Tick-tock, tick-tock. The antique grandfather clock along the wall recorded every second. The office was as quiet as a church mouse as I stared at Jake. Church mouse. You ever wondered where that expression comes from. In my experience, all mice are quiet. Otherwise, they are dead. I figure there’s a great book title there, patterned after Louis L’Amour’s The Quick and the Dead. It’d be a western about mice and I’d call it The Quiet and the Dead. Obviously, a cat would be the hero.

  I wasn’t going to move until Jake did. I found myself wondering if this was one of those battles of wills we hear about. Beats me, but I decided to wait for Jake to make the play.

  I stared at him as he stared at me. A classic case of who blinks first. Tick tock, tick tock. Jake blinked. “Okay, Arty, I’ll answer your question. Yeah, I had a PI on Sheila. Hell, she and that man-hating lawyer took me for a bundle of cash and my home. I wanted to know how she spent it.”

  “Nice try, Jake. Very nice. Now, here’s the sixty-four dollar lifetime question. Where were you the night Sheila was killed?”

  “You’re bugging me, Ace. I don’t have to answer to you.”

  “Only if you want me to find whoever torched your house. Or maybe I already know. Maybe you torched your own house after you killed Sheila and the lawyer. Maybe the sheriff would love to have that as a theory—if he hasn’t settled on it already.”

  “Okay, I get your drift.” Jake relaxed and settled into his chair again. “Look, I don’t want to tell you where I was when the house was burned—trust me, it’s best you don’t know. All you need to know is I’m innocent, and have an ironclad alibi.”

  I was less than impressed. “Try me. I’ll let you know if I agree.”

  “Don’t force me to tell you. Trust me, okay?”

  I couldn’t figure what he was trying to pull, but I wasn’t about to back off. “No, you tell me. If I believe you, I’ll stay away from the sheriff.”

  “Suppose I fire you. Will you quit then?”

  “You've already tried that. You know better. I want to know what happened. My dad always said there’s a bulldog in our family tree. Once an Edwards locks onto something, he doesn’t turn loose until he wins. That’s me, Jake.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Ace, it’s not that I don’t want to tell you, but if I do, you must promise the story will stop with you. Do you understand?”

  I noticed he’d quit calling me Arty but decided not to bring it up. Instead, I said, “Tell me. I’ll make my own decision on what to do with it. No promises.”

  “Damn you, Arty.”

  So much for his not using my obnoxious nickname.

  “Let me try again?” Jake said. “For reasons I don’t want to get into, my reputation is on the line here. If the word gets out before I’m ready, I’ll be a laughingstock. I need your support, and I need to know I can trust you.”

  I leaned back and studied my fingernails. My intent was to show Jake how unimpressed I was with his plea. Don’t know if it worked, but I noticed my fingernails needed cleaning. In my most detached voice, I said, “It’s getting late, Jake. I’ve got better things to do than sit here listening to your crap. Tell me where you were and who you were with. Otherwise, I’m getting out of this body-swallowing chair and driving straight to the sheriff’s office. Your choice now, my friend. I’ve made mine.”

  I was glad I wore my lead skivvies. Jake’s stare would have burned through anything less. He glared at me for what seemed like an hour and a half, probably the longest thirty seconds I’ve ever endured.

  He sighed, and I knew I'd won. “I was with a woman, Ace, a lovely, vulnerable woman. We were together from early in the evening until I left her in my bed after the phone call from the Eastland county cop. I hope you’re pleased you dragged that out of me.”

  I stared back, trying to burn through his outer layer. “Bullshit, Jake. Why should I believe you? That’s no reason for you to play coy with me. A woman, hell, I'd be shocked if you ever slept alone. You have to do better.”

  I could see Jake’s thought processes as they crisscrossed his face. His Adam’s apple jitterbugged up and down his throat. Again, we played our stare game, eyes locked, intense looks on our faces. I almost smiled when I realized we probably looked like my cats when they do their stare-down routine.

  “Arty, if we weren’t old friends, I’d come over there and kick the shit out of you. You always were too damn big for your britches. I’ve said all I plan to tell you. If it’s not enough, get out of here. We won’t need to talk again.”

  We sat there glaring at one another like two fifth graders, each afraid the other would make a move. I’m an expert at this game. I play it with the cats all the time.

  Jake caved. “Trust me, Arty, trust me. I need your help to find who torched my house and killed Sheila. Believe me when I tell you it wasn’t me. Like I said, I was with a woman. I can’t tell you anymore. If you’ll think, you’ll figure out why.”

  I studied his face. The last time I’d seen him that serious was when he’d announced he was proposing to Sheila. I had to accept what he said. “Okay, Jake. I’ll buy it for now, but hear me and hear me good. If I don’t find somebody with a better reason for wasting Sheila, I’ll be back, and you and I will pick up where we’re leaving off.” I hit the word will hard.

  “Okay, you’ve made your threats. Now if you don’t have anything else, I have work to do.”

  I squirmed out of the chair and started toward the door, then turned back toward the coffee service, and refilled my cup. “Great coffee, Jake.” I’d decided to hell with his work schedule. I might never get another chance to stick it to him.

  “I do have more.” I dropped back into the body-swallowing chair. “I’m here until I get a few answers to some questions. What do you have on Madeline Millener, the lawyer who represented Sheila? I’m sure you’ve heard she was the second body in the house.”

  “Yeah, I heard. No great loss there.” Jake’s look was sour. “What makes you think I have anything on her?”

  “Just a guess, Jake. Just a guess.”

  He leaned back and appeared to think for a moment. “I don’t know much about her. She’s from a small firm here in Fort Worth. Give me a minute, and I’ll dig out what little I have.”

  “You rang, Mr. Adams.”

  I turned toward the entrance to his office where his secretary, Kathy, stood in the doorway. I guessed he had a hidden call button connected to her desk.

  “Check the records and get me any info we have on the lawyer who represented Sheila at our divorce,” Jake told her. “Mr. Edwards will need it. Run a print-out.”

  “Yes sir, Mr. Adams.” She left the room.

  As soon as the door closed behind her, I looked at Jake. “I’m impressed. Do you think my little one-man shop can afford someone like her?”

  Jake relaxed and chuckled. “Hell, on what I’m paying you alone. One problem though. There’s only one Kathy. She’s good, the best.” He stopped and frowned. “But a guy’ll come along. She’ll fall in love, and I’ll lose her to a maternity ward. Happens every time.” I sat straighter. My feet came close to the floor. “Do you mean she’s single and available?”

  “Not for you. She’s got better taste, and if she doesn’t, I’ll fire her. With my luck she’d fall for you, marry you, and then double-cross me by not having babies. Then, I’d have you snooping around my office all the time.”

  We were friends again as we both laughed at his joke. There was a discreet knock on the door, a hesitation, and it ope
ned. “I have the information you wanted, Mr. Adams. We don’t have much.”

  “Give it to Arty.”

  I scowled at him as Kathy leaned over and handed me a one-page printout. I wanted to grab it and read, but my eyes wouldn’t shift from her cleavage.

  She stood and I scanned the report, but before I finished the first paragraph, Jake interrupted.

  “Ace, I don’t mean to be a prick but I do have work to do. Your sitting there is costing me double—what I’m paying you and what I’m losing by not getting my work done. Do you have anything else for me?”

  I laughed. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you concerned about money. Are you turning human in your old age?”

  “No, I’m just tired of looking at your ugly mug. Now, get out of here and earn your pay,” he replied, chuckling.

  The chair released me again. “The lawyer, her name was Millener? That can’t be real.”

  “Yes, it was. She was a partner in Millener, Millener and Millener—her mother, her sister and her. That’s a law firm, not a hat shop. The three of them were partners and the only lawyers.”

  We parted company much friendlier than we’d been when I arrived. If we had been playing a game, I’d have had to score one for Jake.

  In the lobby of Jake’s building, I used a pay phone and called one of my contacts in Dallas. I asked him to find out everything he could about a Fort Worth lawyer named Madeline Millener.

  FIFTEEN

  I was about halfway to Cisco, trying to make a picture out of the few pieces of the puzzle I had when my pager went off. I checked the number and smiled—Terri’s number at school. I shoved the case to the back of my mind and thought of her.

  I pulled over and took out my cell phone. People who drive with one hand while holding a phone in the other scare me. I called Terri’s school.

  “Hello, this is Ace Edwards… No. Ace, A-C-E… Yes, Ace.” This was one of those times when I wished my dad had called me Tom, John, Bob or anything in common usage. “I’d like to get in touch with Ms. Hart. Can you tell me when her next break is?... Thank you. Please give her a message that I’ll try to contact her then.” I broke the connection and stared at the highway, hoping she wasn’t calling to break our date.

  I think I counted the minutes until twelve-thirty when Terri would be free to take a call. Finally it arrived, and I heard her incredible voice say, “Ace, I’m glad you returned my page. I want so much to talk with you.”

  My heart skipped enough beats to get thrown out of a musician’s union. “I’m glad you paged. What is it? Is something wrong?”

  “No, nothing is wrong—I mean, nothing unless you’re tied up this afternoon after school.”

  “Nothing except putting a few felons in jail, but they can wait. No matter how many I incarcerate, a new one pops up to take his place.” I hoped she’d hear my attempt at humor, not the anticipation in my voice.

  “Good, I’ll come by the motel about four-thirty. I’ll call you from the office. I want to see you up close, but I don’t trust myself in your room again. You know what would happen.” Her voice had a huskiness that sent my emotions soaring.

  “Anything wrong with that?”

  “No, nothing at all. But we need to save it. Anticipation makes the feat so much sweeter.”

  All I could muster was a shaky, “I’ll be waiting.”

  She rang off.

  I sat, remembering the previous day.

  * * * *

  Although I tingled with anticipation about seeing Terri, I still had time to kill and a case to solve. I remembered what Sam said about Sheila and the lawyer being naked. Like Sam, I couldn’t think of anything to explain it. Only the killer knew for sure. Rape was the one possibility I came up with. Maybe the county mounties had developed better answers. If so, I needed to convince them to share with me.

  I drove to the sheriff’s office and parked, noting that older model cars were still parked in the reserved spaces. When I went into the station, Sergeant Jones was once again on duty. “Good morning,” I said in my most gracious voice. “It’s good to see you again. I’m—”

  “I know who you are, Edwards. Hell, everybody in Eastland County knows you. Everybody knows you’re sticking your nose into police business. Now, whaddaya want?”

  It seemed Sergeant Jones and I would never be close friends. I wondered what he’d do if I invited him to the Down Home for a Killian’s. “Thank you, yes, I’m feeling fine. How nice of you to ask. I see by your attitude that you’re feeling snarly again. I’d like to see the sheriff. Would you be good enough to ring him?”

  I don’t know if my sarcasm was lost on him or not, but his response didn’t make me warm and fuzzy.

  “Edwards, you’re gonna overstep your bounds one of these days and I’ll love it when they bring your ass in, dead or alive.” He rose and started around the desk. “In fact, I might—”

  “Ace Edwards. Good to see you again. What brings you by?”

  I turned and saw Sheriff Yardley coming toward me. I relaxed from my fighter’s stance and Jones settled back behind his high desk. “Sheriff,” I said, sticking out my hand in greeting. “I’m glad you’re in. I have news I want to pass on to you. Do you have a minute?”

  He shook my hand as he looked toward Sergeant Jones. “Sure, come on back.” He slapped me on the back shoving me up the hallway.

  I turned back toward Sergeant Jones. “Good to see you again, Sergeant. Have a nice day.”

  After we were in his office, and I was settled in a straight back wooden chair with a cup of bad coffee, the sheriff said, “Edwards, you’re going to piss Jones off too much one day, and he’s gonna snap your neck like a pretzel. The reason I stepped in out there is I don’t want him in trouble. He’s a good cop, so stay away from him.”

  “Sheriff, I assure you, that was the least of my intentions. Do you think he’s prejudiced against short, balding people? It seems—”

  “Enough of that crap. That’s what I mean. Now, you said you wanted to talk, so do it. I have a meeting in thirty minutes, and I like to get to the conference room early. Your time is limited. Talk straight and talk fast.”

  I sat up and put on my serious face. “Okay. Are you aware that both Sheila and the lawyer were naked?”

  “Yeah, so what and how did you find out? That’s privileged information. It hasn’t been released to the public.” His face flushed red. “Who told you? I’ll have his ass.”

  Before I could reply with a suitable lie, he blurted, “That dumb-shit fireman, right. The boys said you been spending a lot of time around the firehouse.”

  He had me, and he knew it. “Yeah, it was Sam Raleigh. Or, I should say he confirmed what I guessed. Remember, I was there when the bodies were found, and I noticed there was no evidence of clothing. When I confronted him with my supposition, he agreed.” Yeah, I know it was a lie but I owed Sam. He felt like an ally.

  “Yeah, right. He’s like you, loves to play cops and robbers. I’ll deal with him another time. Now, tell me everything you know. And for your own good, don’t leave anything out.”

  “Not much more to tell. Sam and I went over the house plans. Sheila’s body was in the study and the lawyer must have fallen from the second or third floor. Or maybe she was on the stairs when she died. Sam said the analysis of the ashes around the bodies showed no evidence of clothing.”

  Sheriff Yardley leaned back in his chair and hooked his thumbs under his suspenders. “Interesting, your theory about the body placements. When Raleigh told me, I figured he was overreaching.” He hesitated. “You buy that? It could throw a whole new light on things? What do you think?”

  I relaxed. Maybe, we could work together, and maybe I’d taken Sam down from the meat hook I had placed him on. “Right now, I don’t have anything definite. What comes to mind is rape and murder. I suppose it’s possible someone broke in, made them strip, then raped and killed them.”

  “Possible, possible. But, if that happened, why weren’t the bodies to
gether.”

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “Maybe one of them, the lawyer I’d guess, made a break for it. She might have been headed up the stairs when the killer caught up with her, and he killed her on the spot. Maybe he shot her as she climbed the stairway. Any evidence of bullet damage?”

  “No, the lab boys didn’t find any bones that had been struck by a bullet. Of course, it could have passed through without hitting a bone and we’d never know. You saw the condition of the bodies.”

  “Yeah, I did.” The picture jumped into my mind, making my stomach queasy.

  The sheriff leaned forward again. “You’re talking like you know there was only one killer. Why? Way I see it, two or more fits better. Maybe there were two, and one had Sheila downstairs while the other took the lawyer upstairs.”

  “Could be,” I said. “I’m not ruling out anything. Could have been one, two, or more. Like you said, two makes the separation between the bodies easier to understand.” I went back to my earlier question. “Cause of death? What killed them?”

  “We don’t know except both skulls were cracked, and that was enough to kill them. But it could have happened after they were dead. If rape happened, we’ll never know. The coroner says he can’t determine the exact reason or any flesh damage that might have occurred before death. They were burned too badly. This is one of those where the cause of death officially goes down as unknown.”

  He spoke so freely, I plowed on. “Any suspects? Anybody who might have a case against either or both of them?”

  “Nothing concrete. The lawyer was from Fort Worth and slammed enough ex-husbands to fill a ballroom to celebrate her passing. The Fort Worth police are working that. We talk a couple of times a week. They haven’t developed anything yet.”

  “Yeah, I get the same input. How about out here? I know she handled some cases out this way. Anybody in Eastland County that would want her dead?”