by R Weir
“Pretty much. Still some holes, but filled in a lot of the blanks and will send me in a new direction.”
“Good. Hopefully, it will help us as well and was worth the price of the death of your friend.”
I grinned widely.
“Oh, she isn’t dead. It was touch and go, but she will make it. Long recovery, though.”
“You son-of-a-bitch. You played me.”
“I needed you on board, and the emotion of a cop dying is a strong selling point. I wanted you and him to believe me. An Academy Award–winning performance.”
“Wilson warned me you were a dick!”
I headed for the elevator. Better than me punching you in the gut.
Chapter 22
There was a pounding in my head, which I originally thought was a massive headache from the poor night of sleep. I rolled in late and collapsed on my bed still in my bloody clothing. I had stripped them off some time during the night, still half asleep, before crashing again. But the pounding didn’t stop, so I determined someone was angrily knocking on my door with fists like hammers. I got up and grabbed the black robe Melissa had purchased for me, covering me up as I peeked through the window at two faces I didn’t know.
“What?” I said with a grouchy disposition.
The first of the two held up a badge, which said Douglas County Sheriff’s on it. I sighed, for I didn’t feel like explaining anymore about the events of the night before, but opened the door anyway. He came crashing through with his right forearm on my chest, slamming me against the wall with a thud.
“I’m going to rip you a new one if you don’t give me a good reason not to!” he yelled.
With all the danger I had already experienced, I was prepared. Out of the robe pocket I pulled my .38 and jammed it in his ribs. Carrying my gun, no matter what the situation was, would be SOP until this case ended. Even the pizza deliveryman would be challenged, if he looked at me the wrong way.
“Please back away,” I said firmly. “You maybe a cop, but I’m pretty edgy from a few days of being beaten and shot at.”
“Clay, relax,” said the man behind him. “Let’s hear him out before going off and doing something stupid.”
Clay stepped back and gave me some room. I motioned them both to take a seat in the kitchen, while I stood.
“So you obviously are Clay,” I stated. “And you would be?”
“Kirby Rainn,” he said.
“That makes sense. You must be two of April’s brothers.”
“You are correct. April has told you about us?”
“Yes. I’m surprised all three of you aren’t here.”
“Neil is a Vice cop and working undercover right now. So we can’t get ahold of him, or yes, he would be here wanting answers as well.”
I tucked the gun back into the pocket and leaned against the wall.
“What answers are you looking for?”
“What the hell happened?” said Clay.
Clay was the oldest, a Douglas County Sheriff, and big. Close to 6’ 4” and 225 pounds of muscle-bound anger. He was not in uniform, but in jeans and sleeveless T-shirt, which showed arms any bodybuilder would dream of. He was probably close to my age, with a few specks of gray showing on his close-cropped hair. His fingers were drumming the table nervously, and I wasn’t looking forward to having him slam me against anything ever again.
“What do you know?” I asked.
“Not much. Only what my contacts in the Denver PD could tell me, which couldn’t explain a whole hell of a lot. Only got your name and that she’d been shot. The specifics were lacking.”
“Well, it all started with a case I’m working on…” I went into detail talking about the confrontation outside Boone’s, how April kicked the man in the groin, pulled her gun and saved me. The shooting outside her apartment by the same man she had kicked. “In the end she saved my life, probably twice. She is a gutsy lady, and I’m sorry she got hurt over something I was involved with.”
“Why did they shoot her, if they were after you?” asked Kirby.
Kirby wasn’t quite as tall or muscular, but still was in shape, maybe lacking an inch and fifteen pounds on this brother. His short hair was darker, facial features to match his brother’s, with only a few minor differences, like a mole on his cheek and sideburns. He was in jeans and T-shirt, with brown cowboy boots, to his brother’s running shoes. He was calm, cool and settled, listening to every word. The diplomat of the siblings, it would seem.
“She embarrassed the man who she kicked in the nuts,” I said. “He wanted to even the score, for he had been shamed in front of his partners, for having been felled by a woman. Pride pushed him to shoot her.”
“And you let him?” stated Clay.
“Believe me when I say I wished I could have protected her better. I fault myself for not being more alert. I was a little distracted, which I shouldn’t have been.”
“Distracted by what?” asked Kirby.
I didn’t want to say, so just shrugged.
“April distracted you. Are you two dating?” asked Clay.
“We went out to dinner. We are friends, is all.”
Clay and Kirby looked at each other and smiled.
“We know our sister,” said Kirby. “You may be friends, but she can be pretty aggressive. From your look I would say she made a pass at you.”
“A simple suggestion to come in and have a drink.”
“And see what happens,” said Clay.
“A little lip-lock for emphasis,” added Kirby. “Were you planning to go in?”
“Only to make sure she was safe in her apartment. Of course I should have been worried about the outside as well.”
“I guess we can’t blame you,” said Clay. “The question is what are you going to do about it? And what can we do to help?”
Having cops on my side was always a good thing, especially when I needed information that they could access more quickly than I could. Badges can provide leverage a private detective doesn’t have. In the end, I liked to work alone unless bodyguards were required, or it was more than I could handle.
“If I may suggest, the most important thing you can do is be there for April. The man who shot her is dead, the two others who accosted me outside of Boone’s are being sent to Cuba by the FBI. Right now I have some leads on the murder of my client’s husband I plan to track down. But if there is anything you can assist with, I won’t hesitate to call you.”
Each of them pulled out a business card and tossed it on the table.
“Please keep us informed,” said Kirby. “We will help any way we can.”
“What is her condition right now?” I asked. “Last I heard, she was going to be fine. Any long-term effects from the injury?”
“Too soon to say for certain,” said Kirby. “They think she’ll pull through fine. But it will be a pretty long recovery. Several months before she can work again.”
“She is strong and will work hard to get back as soon as possible,” added Clay. “I’m betting it won’t be a month before she is working again.”
“She’ll be making advances at you before you know it,” said Kirby.
That was good to hear. Guilt often tugged at me over moments like this. Enough people close to me had paid a big enough price recently. I didn’t need to add to my burden list. It was plenty long enough.
“I’m sorry for roughing you up,” said Clay. “But don’t you dare break my sister’s heart or I’ll be back.”
“I don’t think that is possible,” I replied. “She is too tough. Besides, her friendship means a great deal to me.”
“She acts that way, but we know different. She is a wonderful sister and an even better person.”
No argument from me. She might be the one woman whose heart I wouldn’t want to break. Of course, I thought the same of Melissa and look how that turned out.
Chapter 23
My day was off to a slow start, thanks to my visitors. So I moved quickly to shower, get dresse
d and stuff myself with whatever I could find in the fridge, which was juice, toast and jam, and some turkey sausage. Before eating, I retrieved the transcript of my conversation with Aleksi, which I had printed from the email Dezmond had sent me. I went over the details, refreshing my memory of what he had said. There were some holes but data enough to lead me in a fruitful direction.
The Platovs were out of the country when they got the call and immediately flew in on a private jet. Their job was to track me down, follow, and determine whom I was working for and why. They were told not to approach me at first, only to follow and observe. When I was seen at Mitch Crabtree’s, the thinking was he might have hired me. Their following me led me to knifing their tire. This pissed them off, so they went to threaten Mitch, pushing him around and burning his car to scare him off. Still mad, they then approached me outside of Boone’s with plans to beat out of me who did the hiring. When April intervened and had them arrested, their sources got Bristol & Bristol, namely Don Bristol, to bail them out. Who pulled those strings, Aleksi didn’t know. Information was always relayed from another source. They then were told to back off for now and wait for further instructions. But Jasha couldn’t and attacked us on his own.
Shortly after, the FBI had rounded up the remaining two, but not before he had called into a special number that they were in trouble. It was a Northern California cell number, tied to a burner phone, which no longer was active according to the note added to the transcript by Dezmond. It was in the general area of the WANN home office, so I was inclined to suspect someone there was orchestrating things. It made sense, but I needed to learn more. So my best option now was to pay a visit to Bristol & Bristol to see what I could learn. A quick call revealed Don was in the office all afternoon today. I didn’t make an appointment, as I planned to show up unannounced and aggressively query him for some answers.
I rode down on my motorcycle and was lucky enough to find outside meter parking nearby. Feeding enough change to cover me, I was inside and at the front desk talking with the receptionist. She had been the one to tell Melissa to cut off my testicles if I’d ever cheated on her, so her reception wasn’t warm. I had my senses tuned to any sharp, shiny metal objects she might be wielding.
“What the hell do you want?” stated Janet with some venom. “Melissa doesn’t want to talk with you.”
“Not here to see Melissa,” I replied. “I need to speak with Don about something urgent.”
She looked down at her phone, with its sidecar module, showing the status of all the phone lines in the office.
“He is on a call,” she said. “He is too busy to speak with anyone today, especially you.”
“That is all I needed to know.”
Before she could speak or react I bolted down the hall and to the right. I knew right where his office was and went through the door, closing and locking it. He was talking on the phone and looked up seeing me. We had met a couple of times, only with a simple introduction, but he knew right away who I was and wasn’t thrilled at my unannounced entrance. He cupped his hand over the mouthpiece, pointing and telling me to leave. I walked over and pressed on the phone switch to hang up his call, which got him even angrier.
“What the hell, Jarvis,” he yelled. “Get out of my office right now before I call the police.”
I grabbed the phone line and followed it to the wall and unplugged it. I then opened my leather bike jacket to show him my gun.
“Hand me your cell phone,” I demanded.
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Do it now before this gets worse. We need to talk, and I want to make sure I have your undivided attention.”
He thought about it for a minute and then handed me his oversized iPhone. I powered it down and tossed it on the sofa in his office. I took a seat in an expensive leather chair, on the front side of his desk. They probably spent more money on this chair than I spent on my entire living room set. I doubt they got their furnishings from neighborhood garage sales like I did.
“Don, are you OK in there?” said the voice of Janet, as she tried the door.
“Tell her you are fine,” I whispered so only he could hear. “I promise this won’t take long.”
“Everything is good, Janet. Nothing to worry about. Jarvis just needs to speak with me privately.”
“Are you certain?” she replied. “Should I call the police?”
“No, not at all. This won’t take long.”
We heard her heels walk away, and I turned my attention back to Don. He was dressed in clothes I could never afford or care to wear. His gray Armani jacket hung on his coat rack, his perfectly pressed white collared shirt and loose gray tie may have cost more than my entire personal wardrobe. He was younger than his brother and partner, Tony, by about five years. His perfectly combed black hair glistening from some type of gel, in contrast to his nicely tanned skin. When he smiled a gold-capped tooth, damaged when he was punched by a client, sparkled as if freshly shined each day. He leaned back into this black leather chair, placing his hands behind his head, his anger subsiding.
“So Jarvis, what do you want?” he said calmly. “My time is valuable and you are wasting precious minutes of it.”
“You bailed out three Russian men a few days ago,” I stated. “The Platov boys. I need to know who hired you to bail them out.”
“I have no idea what you are referring to.”
“Oh, cut the crap, Don. It’s a matter of public record you got them out of jail.”
“So what? A client calls and I get them out. Part of what I do.”
“But I don’t think they were clients of yours. Aleksi told me he didn’t know you. So I’m pretty certain another paying customer of yours asked you to intervene. So I need to know who that is.”
“Come on, Jarvis. You know how this works. I can’t tell you who it was. If I came to you asking the same question, you’d laugh at me.”
“Don, I need to know what is going on. People are trying to kill me and almost killed a friend of mine. A cop, no less. And it all starts with those three you bailed out. Who hired you will lead me to who is calling the shots.”
Don didn’t flinch and didn’t seem to care. I had heard he was the tough one of the two brothers and the one who brought in the questionable clients. Short of beating it out of him I probably wasn’t going to get an answer. So I stood up, went around his desk, pulled him out of his chair, and pushed him against the glass window behind him.
“Get your hands off of me,” he said, though with some fear in his eyes. “I can have you arrested or even better sue you.”
“I couldn’t care less right now,” I replied. “When people shoot at me, I get a little angry. So I want answers. Or should I go to Tony and inform him of the gangster clients you are working with? I’m sure he wouldn’t be too thrilled either.”
“Be my guest. Tony isn’t going to tell you a damn thing and you know it.”
I took my hand and slapped his face a couple of times. Not too hard, just enough to make sure he was aware I could hurt him. I then heard a key in the door and creak of it opening. I kept my attention on Don when someone spoke.
“Jarvis, please don’t do this,” said the voice of Melissa.
I turned my head and saw her standing there, beautiful as ever. Her tone was calming, so I released him, smoothing out his shirt.
“You are lucky, Don. I value what she thinks,” I said. “Remember what we talked about, because I can always discuss this further with you when she is not around.”
I walked away and past Melissa, stopping for a minute to look in her eyes. They were warm, and yet sad, at the same time. It broke my heart to see her. I then headed out and to the elevator. She was behind me and asked me to stop. I turned around to see her, dressed professionally in a dark blue pantsuit and black low heels. Her hair was shiny, bleached lighter from the sun, and longer, held back by her reading glasses she was wearing today. As always, she took my breath away. And it saddened me that I had lo
st her, thanks to my weakness for another woman.
“Jarvis, what are you doing here?” she asked.
My eyes moved down and then back up to her face, my stare caught in hers.
“I needed some answers from Don,” I replied.
“So you were going to beat them out of him?”
“It crossed my mind.”
“For what reason was it worth going to jail over?”
“He has information that may help me find someone who tried to kill April and nearly succeeded. She is in the hospital with two bullet holes in her.”
“What happened?”
“She stopped them from beating me up. Later, a man she disabled returned to kill her. I was there and couldn’t stop him from shooting her. She killed him when he was about to kill me.”
I could see the anguish in her eyes. She had been through this before with me and didn’t care for it and the life I was leading.
“How is Don involved?”
“He bailed them out of jail. Someone, probably a client, asked him to do so. I believe it’s related to a case I’m working on. The company is WANN Systems.”
Her eyes lit up, as if she’d heard the name.
“You’ve heard of them,” I said.
“You know I can’t say anything. I’d lose my job.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t want to get you in the middle of this. I’ll leave and not bother Don again. I promise.”
I walked towards the elevator and hit the down button.
“How is April?” Melissa asked.
“She’ll make it, but has a long recovery ahead.”
The door opened and I stepped in, hitting the button for the first floor. Melissa stood watching, our eyes glued to each other.
“I’m sorry about April,” she said. “I hope she gets well soon. I’ll smooth things over with Don.”
I saw her turn and walk away as the door closed. I so wanted to put my hand in the door and run after her and hug her tightly. But I let it shut and took the long ride down, feeling the loss of her as deeply as I ever had.
Chapter 24
