by R Weir
“Most definitely. And if time wasn’t an issue, I’d take you up on that offer. But I feel I must decline, for I’d need sufficient time to explore your sinful curves.”
“A shame. Maybe you can return some day when you have more time. I might even be willing to pay for your flight?”
I had been elevated to gigolo status.
“An offer to ponder.”
I took another drink of the rum. I’d have many sexy dreams about Lyndi to screw up my sleep patterns. For now, I needed to stay away from one-night stands, no matter how tempting.
“There were a couple of moments when WANN Systems was about to go under. The last one, when they were bailed out, seemed to coincide around the same time you learned of Logan’s partying way of life. Did it ever occur to you that they might be related?”
“Never crossed my mind. I really didn’t care about his work, so long as I had money to spend. What are you thinking?”
“I’m curious about where the pictures and videos came from. Did you ever learn the source?”
“No. The email accounts were always different and deleted, making them untraceable.”
“Did anyone ever call and talk to you? Tell you verbally about his cheating?”
“Yes, a couple of times. Though the phone numbers were always different and didn’t work if I tried to call back.”
“Do you remember the voice?”
She finished her wine, taking the carafe and filled her glass with more.
“It has been some time now, but yes, I do remember it was a male voice, with an accent if I recall correctly.”
“What type of accent?”
She leaned back in her chair, throwing her chest out at me. It was full and certainly eye catching. She noticed my watching and took her hands, adjusting her top so her breasts moved.
“If I would hazard a guess, I would say Eastern European. Russian or some other Eastern Bloc country. Does that tell you something?”
I wanted to yell out “bingo” but resisted. But this certainly qualified as a clue.
“It could. I’ve had some dealings with some men in this case with links to your ex-husband’s company, who are from that part of the world. I don’t believe in coincidences, so I will have to look into this further. What about men of Asian descent? Were there any of them around as well?”
“One of the videos had a young Asian man and girl in them. The disgusting pig was enjoying them both in rather vulgar ways.”
“Any business dealings with Russia or China you know of?”
Sighing, Lyndi drank the rest of her wine, then reached out her hand to touch my leg, her eyes boring into me.
“You realize all this talk of my ex is tiring and hardly arousing. You don’t need to give me an afternoon. Thirty minutes of passion will suffice. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to walk upstairs with me and help me out of my suit?”
The pressure was there, the desire filling me. She stood up letting the robe hit the ground, grabbing my hand and pulling me to her. Her lips brushed mine, tantalizingly, the smell of suntan lotion and chlorine filling my nose. She kissed me with full lips and tongue, guiding my hand to her rear end. I pulled away and smiled, taking my business card and sliding it into her cleavage.
“If you are ever in Denver, call me,” I said while walking away. “I’ll give you the full head-to-toe Jarvis Mann treatment.”
When I reached the car, I took several deep breaths to ease the desire and stiffness I was feeling, and then drove away, happy I had learned something, unhappy I had not acted on her advances. But also knowing I was not ready to go back to that freewheeling life just yet, no matter how much I was tempted. And oh, how I was tempted!
Chapter 28
After a restless night of sexy thoughts of Lyndi and concerns at every sound outside my door that could be someone coming to get me, I was off to the airport at 5 a.m. Since it was a short plane ride, I headed to San Diego. I wanted to talk with Aaron’s parents, who lived down there. Grieving family was never pleasant to deal with, but from what Mandy had told me this was hardly the case, which seemed odd. But it never hurt to get additional insight about the victim.
I landed at San Diego International Airport and then took an expensive cab ride to Chula Vista, a suburb of San Diego south and east, the second largest city in the metro area. I had talked with Aaron’s mother and she said I could stop by, but that they had afternoon plans. I arrived at about 11 a.m., the cab dropping me at their expansive house, whose backyard faced a large golf country club. When I rang the doorbell, the mother answered, letting me in after I showed ID. I entered the living area with large vaulted ceilings and was led to the back patio, where her husband was enjoying a drink. Each was dressed in tennis clothing, as Aaron’s mom had explained they had a match at 12:30. I was offered a seat and sat down on one of the more comfortable outdoor chairs I’d ever had the pleasure of placing my butt in.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked.
“Orange juice or iced water would be great, Mrs. Bailey.”
“Oh, please call me June. And he is Darren.”
I smiled, stood again and shook Darren’s hand. It was firm, the skin soft and brown, with sunspots on his arms from a life in the sun and warmth.
“Good to meet you,” said Darren with a raspy voice. “What can we help you with?”
“Oh, please wait, Darren. Let me get him his drink.”
June hustled out and was back quickly with a bottle of OJ, the top removed, a glass with ice for me to pour into.
“I’m not sure if June told you, Darren, but I’m a private detective looking into your son’s murder. I know it can be difficult to discuss, so I’m sorry to put you through it. I wanted to learn a little more about him. A parent’s perspective.”
“We were shocked when we heard the news,” stated June. “So sad to hear.”
She said it like it was a friend’s or neighbor’s son that was killed, with little emotion.
“What was Aaron like growing up?”
“He was an energetic boy,” said Darren. “Loved the outdoors. Couldn’t get him inside even in the snow.”
“So this is not the home he grew up in?”
“No, not at all,” said June. “Lived in Colorado until about eight years ago. Wanted to live somewhere warmer. We love to be outdoors and enjoy the warm, moist air.”
“Did Aaron move with you?”
June frowned.
“No. He was on his own by that time. Going to college. Shacking up with Mandy.”
“You say that as if it was a bad thing,” I said. “Did you not care for Mandy?”
Both of them looked at each other, as if to see who would answer. Finally Darren did.
“No, we did not care for her. He had a better life ahead of him being something more than a computer geek. But love makes you do stupid things, no matter what your parents want for you.”
“What were your hopes for him?”
“Day trading. Investment banking. The type of work I did and was successful at.”
“How you were able to afford this expensive home.”
“Exactly. I made in a couple of months what he made in a year. But we couldn’t convince him. She blinded him, wrapping him around her finger.”
“And you felt the same, June?”
“Yes. Really after she came into his life he had no time for us. It was as if he was already dead.”
“Is that why you didn’t go to the funeral?”
I assumed I’d hit a nerve with that statement, but both remained calm.
“She wouldn’t have wanted us there,” said June. “We were sad but dealt with it in our own way.”
“So, no thoughts on why someone would kill him?” I asked.
“No, not at all,” replied Darren. “One would not think a computer nerd would ever have something like that happen to him. Besides, we were told it was random. A robbery.”
“I’m not so certain. I believe there was more to it. He may
have stumbled upon something going on in the company he worked for.”
“WANN Systems?” asked Darren.
I nodded.
“I’ve bought and sold their stocks through the years. Been up and down, though mostly up recently. What have you discovered about them? If it’s bad, I might be inclined to sell while it’s still high.”
I wanted to yell out at him, for all they seemed to care about was the money and not why their son was killed. Though I doubted it would make any difference.
“I can’t reveal anything yet. Still early, but if I get anything I’ll let you know.”
Darren grabbed his phone and started typing out a text.
“Dear, that is rude,” said June. “You know I hate it when you pull out your phone and tune out a guest or me.”
He ignored her, and tapped away.
“It’s alright, June. I’m used to it. Anything else you can tell me about Aaron or even Mandy?”
“Aaron loved his sports. Tennis, golf and baseball. Might have been good enough to go pro. But once the computer bug and that bitch Mandy rewrote his DNA, he was never the same man. Certainly not the same man we raised.”
“Do you have other kids, June?”
“No, Aaron was the only one.”
I wanted to say good to know, but resisted.
“It was a difficult birth and I nearly died. Doctors told me never to have kids again.”
“And she took the only one you had away from you?”
“Exactly.”
“She mentioned he was a computer nerd when they met.”
“Not at all,” said Darren, now done with his phone. “He was a jock all the way. Oh, he used a computer, but not like he did afterwards. Coding, hacking, whatever the hell he did. She introduced him to that world. Whatever dream we had of him being a pro athlete or making money in my line of business was out the window.”
“Maybe his dreams didn’t align with yours,” I said.
I’d probably said too much, as they both looked at their watches.
“We must be going now,” said Darren. “We have to drive to our match. If there is anything else we can help with, let us know.”
I pulled out a business card and left it on the table, and was led out the door. I’m sure the only time it was handled by them was to place it in the trash.
Chapter 29
Landing in Denver, I was happy as always to have my feet firmly planted on the ground again. When I arrived late afternoon and turned on my phone I received a couple of text messages and pictures of Lyndi, leading to more temptation. I’d never done any sexting before, even with Melissa, but now I had someone to flirt with via SMS. After retrieving my car from the expansive DIA parking lot, I headed back to town, my first call to my client, who had left me a more routine message on voicemail while on my flight, urgently asking me to contact her.
“You are back in town?” asked Mandy.
“Yep, I landed at DIA a short while ago. I was able to come up with some information that may be helpful.”
“Good, I’m glad you’re back.”
She sound concerned.
“Is something wrong?”
“Yes, that creepy detective Adam King called a couple more times. I thought you were going to talk with him.”
Crap, I’d completely forgotten about him with all going on.
“Sorry. I didn’t pay him a visit.”
“Can you please? I’m tired of hearing from him.”
“Next time he calls tell him you’ll meet him somewhere. Pick some place open like a park. I’ll show up instead and convince him to bother someone else.”
“Anywhere in particular?”
I chose a location and details of what to say.
“I will do that. What did you learn in California?”
I gave her the highlights of the trip. I’m not sure she was convinced it meant much.
“I don’t see what any of that means in relation to Aaron’s murder.”
“So far I’ve had Russian and Chinese thugs come after me. One of the founders and principal owners of WANN likes to gamble and sleep with younger men and women. It is possible they are using that against him to have access to his business. An Internet business where lots of money is made. From what I understand, Russian and China are two of the largest Internet hacking countries in the world, stealing mountains of personal data and people’s finances. A lot of that information runs across WANN’s switches and routers. If Aaron did find evidence of this, it could be a motive to kill him.”
“Sounds like it’s mostly circumstantial.”
“It is. But I’m making them nervous. And nervous people do stupid things which can expose them.”
“Like trying to hurt you!”
“I will do my best not to let that happen. And we’ll need to be careful with you as well. Though they don’t know you hired me, it’s just a matter of time before they start putting a connection together. So be on the lookout for anything suspicious, and let me know no matter how trivial it seems.”
There was a long pause, and I sensed worry on the other end of the call.
“It will be alright. But stay put for now and don’t venture out too much. Your place is pretty secure. No reasons to take any chances, though.”
Still silence. I figured now was as good a time as any to bring up my visit to San Diego.
“I went and talked with Aaron’s parents.”
The silence remained, though I heard breathing and it seemed like rapid inhaling caused by anger.
“Why did you talk with them?” she asked. “They fucking don’t care at all about him or why he was killed.”
The expletive seemed surprising to hear from her.
“I discovered that. Please understand it is part of the process.” I had to stop to compose myself. “I need to learn as much as I can from all who knew him.”
“They don’t know a damn thing about him.”
“Told me he was a jock before meeting you.”
“Bullshit. He enjoyed sports, but was never going to be anything more than a journeyman.”
“They say you convinced him computers were the way to go.”
“It was his own choice. He was tired of being in their shadow, doing what they wanted him to do. All I did was tell him to be what he wanted to be.”
She didn’t seem thrilled talking about this, so I then told her about the odd call I got in California, asking if she might know who it could have been. She answered me quickly. Almost too quickly.
“I haven’t a clue. Sorry. I need to go. I have something cooking on the stove. I’ll contact you when the creep calls me back.”
The line abruptly went dead. The tingle on the back of my neck told me she might know more than she was letting on. Or maybe she was just mad at me for visiting the Baileys. For now I’d let it slide. I was home soon and tired, but needed to workout. I changed quickly and hit the gym, running the indoor track, doing several laps, using free weights to work my arms, chest, abs and legs, before cooling down with a slow walk around the track. Once done I smiled widely at the pretty redhead behind the counter and made some small talk. I noticed no ring and considered asking her out for a drink, but decided to wait for now. My friskiness from my time with Lyndi made me brave again around women, but I knew hopping in bed with anyone right now wasn’t the best idea. I said my goodbyes and strolled out to my car when my cell phone rang. It was my mystery caller again.
“Hello, Mr. Mann. Have you returned to town?” he asked.
“I have indeed.”
“Do you have time to meet in the next few hours?”
I checked the clock on my dash, and though I was tired, and hungry, I was curious about what information he could provide me.
“Where and when?”
“What about we meet at 6 p.m. at Bible Park. Do you know where that is?”
“Yes. I probably can make that.”
“Over by the tennis courts.”
He then promptly hung up. It see
med risky, but I was a curious person and was prepared for whatever happened. I dropped by a Subway along the way to pick up a turkey sub, drove home and changed into jeans, a long short-sleeved shirt, which covered my hip holster and .38, and my good running shoes. The shoes were always important for a fast getaway. The gun, which I didn’t care to carry all the time, was becoming necessary again for proper protection, as shown by what happened to April. Wishes for bulletproof Superman powers had never been granted, so I had to improvise. I doubt the turkey sub would enhance those powers, but I didn’t care, as I was famished and wolfed it down quickly with some lemon iced tea and two moist chocolate chip cookies.
Bible Park is on the eastern side of Denver just short of the Aurora border, and I arrived just after six. It was a large green, grassy place, bordered with tall trees. It was normally a beehive of activity, with family picnics, baseball, football and soccer practices, and more cars than the large parking lot could handle, so they flowed out onto Yale Avenue. I found this true today, driving in, and luckily found a parking spot when someone was leaving. Once out, I made sure my gun was covered by my shirt tail, as I didn’t want any panic among the families and children there. I strolled the park, not seeing the tennis courts and asked someone for help. They pointed to the east beyond a row of trees, which I followed across a walk bridge over a creek, along a path where the four lighted, fenced courts were located. I found a wrought-iron bench and took a seat, watching the full courts of tennis action. It wasn’t the US Open, but the players looked pretty good and seemed to be having a fair amount of fun. I checked my phone and there was a text from the number I received the call from saying he was nearby. I answered back I was sitting on the bench and gave him a short description of my shirt. Within about five minutes a tall man showed up and sat down next to me.
“Jarvis,” he said while watching the action before us.
“Yes.” I answered.
“Sorry for all the cloak and dagger stuff. I’m being cautious with good reason.”
I wanted to say “paranoid,” but resisted. With what I’d experience so far, maybe I was as well.
“Prudent to be safe. Though I’m uncertain right now what you are in fear of.”
