Deathnet : Bayview Beach Book 1

by P. S. Chandler

  "Um, excuse me? Detective Jacobs?"

  Lauren turned in her chair. "Oh. Hi. Can I help you with something? "The man wore a badly wrinkled suit with a yellow stain on the left leg of his trousers. She glanced at him quickly and tried not to show the shock on her face.

  "Hello?"

  He reached back behind him for the edge of the desk opposite Lauren's and perched himself upon it. One foot battered the floor with a frantic rhythm that immensely annoyed Lauren.

  "Hey, yeah, s-sorry. Are you Detective Jacobs?"

  Lauren stood immediately and almost knocked over her chair. "Yeah, sorry. I am. And who are you?" He took her hand and shook it once; his hands were clammy and cold.

  "I'm Zack. Zack Austin. I'm um, somebody called me this morning?"

  Lauren's heart fell. "Did-- did you know Lane Mason, Mr. Austin?"

  "Yeah, Yeah, he muttered with a shaky breath. I'm not technically next of kin, we're not blood, but Lane didn't have much family. I told the guy I talked to about that, but he sounded confused?" His voice went up at the end of his sentence, and his eyes darted around the room as Lauren attempted to make eye contact.

  Though she already knew the answer, Detective Jacobs asked, "How did you know Ms. Mason, Zack? "When he finally looked at her, Zack's wet dull eyes stared at Lauren. He paused.

  "I was going to marry her, Detective. Not that complicated, I guess. Lane changed her mind, that's all. And it kinda—ruined my life." Zack held his head in his hands and pressed his brow with the tips of his fingers. Then, he took two short breaths.

  "Hey, take your time, okay?" said Lauren.

  "No, I'm good. I'm fine. She, uh, she was kind about it. I mean, okay, she literally left me at the altar, in front of my whole family and all our friends, but—"

  Lauren cleared her throat, "How was she kind?"

  Mr. Austin shut his eyes. A few tears trickled down his cheeks. "She checked up on me afterward. I was a mess. I told her that, and she did seem to care, but it wasn't enough. I drove straight home from the ceremony and emptied the liquor cabinet. I'm serious; I took everything out and just started in, you know? I later woke up in the middle of the living room, covered in my own puke."

  He winced. "Not my proudest moment."

  Lauren nodded sympathetically. "Have you done anything like that since?"

  He threw up his hands. "Oh yeah," he scoffed bitterly. "At least once a week, if not more than that. I'm pretty good if I've got Jill there, but by myself, I can't seem to stop."

  "And Jill is?"

  "My daughter. If anything, she took what Lane did harder than me."

  Lauren opened her mouth to speak, but she was distracted by Ace, who strolled down

  the hall with an older man and woman. The man shouted and waved his arms over his head while the woman (presumably his wife) walked with her head bowed. Detective Stone held the man by his belt and pulled him along to avoid his swings. He looked like an exhausted father with an unruly toddler.

  "You can't do this to me, yelled the man! This is harassment! You can't touch me unless you have a warrant! I'll have your badge!"

  She caught Ace's eye as he led the couple towards the first interview room and grinned.

  "That your partner?" asked Zack.

  Such a small voice on a mountain of a man surprised Lauren. "Yeah, sorry about that. You were saying, about your daughter?"

  With a heavy sigh, he said, "Right from the moment Lane said she couldn't marry me, Jill vowed revenge. And it only got worse when I started drinking. My daughter blamed Lane entirely, was manic about it, frankly."

  "In what way?"

  Suddenly he looked uncomfortable. He drew himself inward and folded his arms tight across his chest. Zack rubbed his baseball-glove-sized hands on the back of his neck. Detective Jacobs told herself he couldn't hurt her, that it was ridiculous to be suddenly afraid— but something deep within her trembled, a little. Is he the killer, she thought.

  "Do you think Jill could have harmed Lane? Or would have, given a chance?"

  Zack balked, his deep brown eyes grew wide, "What? No way! Have you seen her? She's tiny! And yeah, she cares about me, she loves me and all that, but she's all talk! She wouldn't dare do anything for real! I-I mean, she gets her temper from her mom, sure, but all she was doing was looking out for me and making sure Lane didn't come around and mess me up again." He slumped in his seat. "It's kind of pitiful if you think about it. A guy as big as I am, and my daughter must fight off my problems for me. Don't you think?"

  "Well, Mr. Austin I think we're going to need to bring Jill in for questioning sooner rather than later, to cover all our bases, standard procedure. She did have a motive."

  "I see" he avoided Lauren's gaze and stared at the blue zig-zag pattern on the tiled floor. Mr. Austin wrung his hands, "I don't see how that's possible. Jill is out of the country. She's studying abroad in Tokyo, an international business major."

  "Tell you what, let's make a trade. If you tell me how I can reach Jill, just to talk, and ask a few questions, I'll give you—" she twisted in her chair and reached in the top drawer of her desk.

  Lauren handed the card to Zack and wondered would he yell or cry. He studied the card, flipped it over, and furrowed his brow. "Are you sending me to AA?"

  She nodded her head slowly. "Legally, I can't force you to go to meetings, but listen, your daughter can only do so much. You'll damage your relationship even further if you rely on her to bring you back. They are there to help, I promise. It sounds cheesy, but the meetings help people change their lives and find happiness again."

  Zack tucked the card into the front pocket of his jeans. "You sound like you know that from experience."

  Lauren shrugged. "Kind of. The disease runs in my family. I've seen what happens to people who do go and those who don't, there's a crazy difference. Seriously, please try it. I'm not making you sign anything." She smiled softly at him, and hoped she wasn't coming off too preachy.

  "I understand what you mean. If I went down that road, I don't think Jill would ever recover."

  Chapter 7

  Ace felt ridiculous as he corralled Mr. Fleming like a rambunctious child at a zoo. The man was out of his mind. His ex-wife hid her face and cringed. She mostly talked inside the interview room. "I'm sorry, Detective Stone, my ex-husband isn't usually this hysterical." She backed away from her ex and covered her face with one hand. Carol was the picture of calm efficiency: a slender woman with close-cropped pale blonde hair and impeccably applied (though modest) makeup. She wore a pale blue blouse buttoned at the wrists and cropped black trousers along with several gold bangle bracelets.

  Reed Fleming, on the other hand, looked prepared to either supervise a family barbeque or play a few rounds of golf with whoever worked for his ex-wife. He had the air of a formerly wealthy man, a dethroned monarch who now begrudgingly offered a peace treaty. Khaki shorts and a cotton polo shirt, with expensive but well-worn tennis shoes.

  Mr. Fleming continued, "What you've got to understand, detective is that somebody is seriously trying to ruin me. I was ganged up on, okay? It was bad enough with this—Reed corrected himself, "With my ex-wife screwing me for everything I had. But with all due respect, you throw in someone like Lane Mason, and you make sure all the sharp objects are locked away—"

  "Oh, seriously, Reed, you're so dramatic. You were emasculated long before Ms. Mason came into our lives," cooed Carol.

  "Uh, Mr. Fleming, M-Mrs. Fleming, please. This isn't doing anything for us except wasting time. I understand Ms. Mason was your divorce attorney and that it was you, Mrs. Fleming, who pushed to have the separation finalized."

  "That's correct, yes. And please, call me Ms. Paul. It's much nicer," Carol said as her ex-husband's face was turned a deep shade of purple.

  "Excuse me, Ms. Paul. If I may, could you tell me why you were so insistent on rushing the proceedings?" Ace asked while he studied Mr. Fleming's face.

  "Yes, well, I'm rather lucky the marriage license
was for the state of Florida. There is a much shorter waiting time between filing and finalizing here. I was able to get it expedited even more quickly with Ms. Mason's help." Carol cleared her throat. "She was an extremely talented woman, Detective Stone. Expensive, yes, but exceedingly efficient, and more willing than most to listen to an exploited and belabored woman such as myself."

  Mr. Fleming made a noise like a strangled cat. "Exploited my foot! If anyone has been exploited, it's me! Me, detective, just a man wanting to live a peaceful life in a beautiful house, occasionally going out to dinner with the woman I love, and what do I get? A crazy female possessed feminist!"

  Carol interrupted, “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

  "Mr. Fleming, would you say you had a motive for wanting Ms. Mason dead?

  Reed Fleming gaped at him, then laughed derisively. "Oh, sure! I've already made that pretty clear, haven't I? Yeah! Yeah, I wanted to kill the little termagant!"

  Ace raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

  Carol patted her ex-husband's arm. "It's an elegant way of calling Lane a harlot, Mr. Stone. A troublemaker, basically, but Reed likes to use fancy words sometimes to make himself sound intelligent."

  Before Mr. Fleming could completely detonate, Ace lifted his hand. "Yes, thank you, Ms. Paul. Now I'll ask you: do you think your ex-husband killed Lane Mason?" She turned to Reed, appraised him coldly, then turned back to face Ace. "I think he'd like you and me to believe that he could, yes. But to actually do it? “Carol paused, long enough for Reed's face to turn from red to mauve. "No, Detective Stone. Quite frankly, he doesn't have the balls to—."

  Reed roared, leaped up from his chair. His hands curled into claws, and he lunged at his ex-wife.

  "Hey! Hey!" Ace shouted as he threw himself across the wide metal table towards Reed. Mr. Fleming grabbed Carol's sleeve and pinned her to the ground. Both chairs flew across the room and hit the wall.

  "Get off of me, you insane creep,” she screamed. She broke loose from Reed's grip, ran to the door as Ace tackled him to the ground. Carol then drove a knee into Mr. Fleming’s back. Ace reached for his handcuffs but then remembered they were in his patrol car. "Martinez! Jacobs! Get in here; I got a wild one!"

  "Oh no, detective, no need to make all that fuss," tutted Ms. Fleming. "Here." She marched towards the two men on the floor, drew one leg back, and delivered a hard kick into Reed's side with the flat toe of her heel. Mr. Fleming gaged, then laid still. Ace pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and stared at her. She stared back at him and fixed the wrinkles out of the front of her blouse.

  "There now. Wasn't that easier?" retorted Carol.

  Chapter 8

  Lauren sat at her computer and shuffled through the pile of papers on her desk. She noticed a faded cream-colored stained document.

  "Have you always been this anal about your filing?" quipped Ace? He came up behind her.

  "Shut up and look at this," Lauren hissed; she shook the sheet of paper in her hand.

  Look at this, Stone!" she shrieked.

  "Alright, get a grip already!" Ace grabbed the document. He analyzed the wilted paper like a high-powered New York certified public accountant who just performed a yearly tax audit. He meticulously read each line.

  Ok, so Lane filed a petition with Family Court two years ago to help a client, big deal."

  Lauren tapped her index finger on the desk, "Keep reading, Inspector."

  "Alright, alright," Ace wrinkled his nose. "Ok, line 12 says the client was petitioning for sole custody." He used his finger to follow to the next line. "On behalf of client, Maximus Lomax for sole custody of 2-year-old Maximus Oliver Lomax Jr.

  "Maximus Lomax, the kid, lied!" he exclaimed. "Lane was his attorney in a custody hearing,—well I be."

  "No kidding, Sherlock." Lauren's right hand trembled, feeling the jitters as her body craved another mocha cappuccino. I need a hit real bad, she thought.

  He straightened out the wrinkled creases in the wilted petition and scratched his head. "Why did he lie about knowing Lane?"

  "Good question, detective. Well, he was the one who pulled her bloated, decomposing body out of the ocean. A hideous coincidence or just a case of ugly pernicious fate," answered Lauren.

  Ace shook his head, "Looks like little Maxie is not so wet behind the ears after all. But is he a killer? Time to pay Casino boy another surprise visit."

  "Going to need a 24 oz. Cappuccino for this visit," Lauren's right leg began to shake.

  "Laur, I think you should sit this one out."

  "Excuse me," she snapped.

  He gently touched her right shoulder, "No offense, Vasquez is a better fit when it comes to questioning Max. Your mom-mode tendencies are pretty—"

  "Detective Jacobs!" Officer Jones,' interrupted. His tiny round head peered in the doorway of her small cramped, dingy office.

  "What now!" she demanded.

  "Call on line 3; I believe the last name is Austin. Yup—the name's Jill Austin. A teasing devilish smirk came across Ace's face.

  She clenched her teeth. "Stone, you are sooooo lucky; this conversation is not over. I’ll stay behind this time; I need to take this call but bring Max back to the station. I want to be there when you question him, so get going!"

  Strolling casually towards her office door, Ace grinned. "Sure thing Laur I—"

  "If you call me Laur one more time, she barked—"I'm gonna—"

  "Lauren, take the call," interrupted Officer Jones. "Jill is still on the line."

  She cleared her throat and paused to gain her composure, before warmly greeting Jill.

  "Is this the cop who illegally interrogated my father regarding his ex's dead body without the presence of an attorney?" she sputtered.

  This was not the response Lauren expected from an impressionable young college student. "Ms. Austin, your father is just a person of interest. We are not charging him with a crime, so a lawyer was not necessary."

  "Boloney, retorted Jill! We both know that if my father and I didn't have a motive for wanting to see Lane dead, you wouldn't have called my father in, and we would not be having this conversation, now, would we? As I see it, we are both suspects. You're on a fishing expedition, just like the men who fished her dead body out of the ocean."

  Lauren’s eyebrows drew closer together; she took a deep breath. "Ms. Austin, how did you know that Lane's body was found at sea? Aren't you still in Japan?"

  "Good Day, Detective! And please lose my phone number," she yelled and slammed down the phone.

  This was a roller-roaster of a case, and Zack's daughter's boorish behavior only made matters worse. Lauren had a massive headache. She pictured herself gulping down an extra-large icy coffee and sprinted down the hall on her way to the local mini market.

  "Chief, going for a quick cup of coffee; I need the fresh air."

  "Not so fast, Jacobs, call Stone; there's been an accident."

  What now, she thought.

  ◆◆◆

  Ace stopped at a light when his phone rang. He grabbed it swiftly when he saw Lauren's name on the caller ID screen. "Lauren? You, okay?"

  "I'm okay. Mr. Carpenter's not. He's been in a car accident."

  Ace eased out into the intersection. "You're kidding me, do you think it was intentional?"

  "Well, the other car sped off in a matter of seconds, according to the footage they got from the lights. They were thoughtful enough to hit him at a crossroads, 15th and Vancouver."

  Ace hit the brakes, everything on the seat beside him crashed to the floor. Vasquez's head slammed against the headrest of the car seat. Behind him, a cacophony of car horns blared.

  "Stone!" yelled Vasquez.

  "Ace! Ace! What happened?"

  Ace wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead as his heart raced uncontrollably. He pulled over to the side of the road. "I-I'm sorry, Laur. Yeah, I'm fine. It's just that's where—" His voice cracked and tailed off. On the other end, Lauren waited.

  "I lost somebody right
around that area, my last partner. Vasquez, I don't think you knew him.

  "Uhh, sorry man," unsure what to say, Officer Vasquez looked away.

  Ace lowered his head, feeling the body of the car shake with passing traffic. For a second, there was silence. "Do you want me just to go to investigate? You can head back to the station with Vazquez if you want. I'll handle the scene. It's looking like a hit and run. Were you able to snag Max"?

  Ace sighed. "Max is nowhere to be found. Kip said he hasn't shown up for work in about two days; his apartment is empty. He may have skipped town.