by William Cain
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MR. JONES
Book 2 of the Adelaide Henson Mystery Series
William Cain
Disclaimer
Mr. Jones is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, events, establishments or locales are intended only to give this work of fiction a sense of reality and authenticity, and all are used fictitiously. All other characters, places, dialogue and events are the product of the author's imagination.
Copyright © 2019 by William Cain Stranges
ISBN: 9781708184353
for margaret, my mother
Chicago
DiCaprio Crime Family
Gennarro (Biggie) Battaglia – retiring overboss – aka Ken Jones
Elsie Jones – wife to Ken Jones
Vincent Battaglia – overboss
Alberto Gangi – retiring underboss, best friend to Gennarro
Michael Seppi – cleaner
Benito DiCaprio – retired overboss
Consuela DiCaprio – daughter
John (Skip) O’Hare – underling
Spadaro Crime Family
Anthony Spadaro – Boss, nemesis of Gennarro
Mitch Conti – retired Consigliore
Helen Richter – cleaner
Victor Spadaro – deceased brother
Ulrich Pavlov – contract killer
Miami
DiCaprio Crime Family
Joseph Riggoti – underboss
Daisy Fuendes – cleaner
Asheville
Asheville P.D.
Commissioner Bill Evans
Captain Keith Leary
Detective Adelaide (Addie) Henson
Detective Robert Hardin – partner to Addie
FBI
Senior Special Agent David Juvieux
Agent Chris Forsyth
The Thomas’s
Reggi (Virginia) Thomas
Joseph Thomas (deceased husband to Reggi)
Frank Thomas – son
Frédérica Thomas (divorced wife of Frank)
Frank Jr. (Frannie) – son
Agatha Winslow – fiancé to Frannie
Charlotte Bouknight – daughter
Edwin Bouknight – husband to Charlotte
Madison – daughter
Haley – daughter
Megan Thomas – daughter
Patrick – son
Connor – son
Other Players
Jericho and Irene Henson – Adelaide’s parents
John Paulson – Reggi’s first husband and Frank’s natural father
A “friendly” woman
Author's Note
This is Book Two in a series of ten books. A series that is best read in order. Each two books are closely related, meaning Book 1 and Book 2, for example, complete that main story. A story which is part of the bigger picture of all ten books. This is the reason I publish the two close together, and make them available, as an eBook, for free on some days.
I myself am a slow reader. So, I explain this to others as 'I like to digest the material. I'm not trying to read as many books as I can, and then forget about them.' I like reading and going over what the author has written years later.
Years go by, and I can still remember characters from the Follett series Pillars of the Earth; the builders, the nurse, Jack and Claris, Aliena, even Philip. These and others live on because I took the time to read them. Ken Follett is a master storyteller, and it all plays out in his epics, and his shorter stories. I read Code to Zero in one day, it was that good.
And, I've had reviewers finish both of my Books 1 and 2 in a day and a half. One even reread the two. Go figure.
So, don't rob yourself. Read them in order, and enjoy!
PREVIOUSLY
February
The Thomases
Frank Thomas walks the streets of the Upper West Side happily. He’s determined in his pursuit of Adelaide. He’s not giving up—he doesn’t agree with her reasoning for putting their relationship on hold, about the distance and the divorce.
Boy gets girl. Boy loses girl.
No…Boy will get girl. Boy will get girl back.
◆◆◆
Frank’s mother, Reggi Thomas, knows even senior citizens can fall in love, and she’s fallen in love with Ken Jones. None of her children can stop her. Not Frank, not Megan, and not Charlotte.
Since meeting him in September, after Joe died, she’s been seeing him more and more. She needed, wanted, him. He knew it, he wanted her too.
She would never once in a million years dream she’d be this happy again.
◆◆◆
In Asheville proper, sniveling, money-hungry Charlotte Bouknight, Reggi’s oldest daughter, and her husband Edwin dream of the day when they’ll have access to Ken Jones’s money.
Edwin’s losses with this investment and that have made cash the king in their house. He needs it to keep pace with his rich lifestyle and make his much younger wife happy.
Having access to Ken Jones’s wealth is paramount. With Reggi marrying him, they’ll be billionaires soon!
The Detective
To Addie, Riggoti running away was too convenient. The commissioner in Asheville made her close the case, claiming Joseph Riggoti left Miami, apparently to avoid arrest in Elsie Battaglia’s murder. She’s heading to Miami to find out from Daisy Fuendes, his “hitman,” what really happened to him.
She’ll know—the cleaners always do.
The Victim
Elsie and her husband Gen retired to Heritage Hills in North Carolina. He changed his name to fit in, changed it to Ken Jones, left the life of organized crime in Chicago behind, and started a new chapter in the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Then she paid a visit, and Elsie was no more. Detective Henson pieced together the events from that day in July; two women on the street outside her home, visitors passing through security, a woman walking her dog and staring at her house, cars rolling slowly by.
Elsie was so happy with her husband, before the killer walked down their driveway, smiling, shaking hands, and then violently murdering Elsie, ruining her idyllic life, ending it.
But face it. As Elsie knows, anyone closely connected to Gennarro Battaglia is always in danger.
PROLOGUE
It’s February in the piedmont section of North Carolina, the southern Appalachian chain of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It’s called the Smoky Mountains for the great clouds that gather and settle around its peaks, feeding the naturally occurring rhododendron and azaleas, the towering pines, the dangerous rivers that converge and spill into the sea hundreds of miles away.
Spring is weeks away. The migratory birds are seen in small numbers still. The black bears are still hiding, sleeping away until food arrives, when the mountains burst with new growth. Things get busy soon. Until then, it’s quiet time. The Smokies are preparing for warmer weather, melting ice and snow, nurturing seedlings, feeding the smaller animals. Mother Nature brings her storms, rains and thunder to partner with the elements of the forest, doing her part for the coming spring and summer.
The stark landscapes of leafless trees, brownish undergrowth, eerily silent woodlands, will soon give way to plush and flowering multitudes, sunny skies and rolling hills teeming with wild animals. And the insects, lots of them. It seems there’s always one particular pest for each month of the year. Black flies. Mosquitoes. Moths. Hornets. You need to be prepared.
Then there are the hikers. They fill the hotels, the towns, the cities, making the 550-mile Blue Ridge Mountain range more popular than one hundred Superbowls. Oddly, they hardly ever run into each other. The trails are so diverse, the land they cover so vast.
◆◆◆
In the Blue Ridge Mountains, you can lose yourself, forget, run away. A thrill grips you when you approac
h the seemingly unexplored high hills and deep valleys. Danger mingles with excitement.
Killers are on the loose in the mountains. It’s not just about animals and the natural order of things. Oftentimes, they don’t want to kill. But if they’re backed into a corner with no escape, even the most timid of creatures will become threatening and hostile. They’ll do what they have to do to survive.
And the most dangerous of all the animals, the most dangerous in the food chain,
Is Man.
Chapter 1 Daisy
Feb
No one is you, and that is your superpower. Unknown
Flying the friendly skies, Adelaide has time to reflect, having put her relationship with Frank on hold, but she doesn’t feel it was wrong. It was the right move. She’s sure of it. Once things settle, if he’s still after her, if he hasn’t lost interest or thought she outright rejected him, then they’ll both know more and be certain. For now, though, she compartmentalizes Frank. Puts him in a safe place. Where she’s headed, there will be no distractions.
The jetliner touches down in Miami mid-day. As she peers out, Addie can see the typical warm Florida weather with blue skies and tall, white clouds. While she’s waiting for the gate jetway to be brought over, she stows away her folder with the background information on Daisy Fuendes, Joey Riggoti’s cleaner. She had shown the picture of Fuendes to Helen and then to Reggi to see if they recognized her from the day of Elsie Battaglia’s killing. If they had, then she’d be heading to Miami to arrest Fuendes, and not just to talk.
She knows Daisy Fuendes is a very capable and dangerous woman. Her file lists her training credentials as Green Beret, and one of the few women to certify for Special Forces. She’s in her thirties, and her self-control mirrors her combat training. Oddly, her file didn’t list any boyfriends. Maybe she’s binary or fluid. Addie breaks a grin. Then she drops it as quickly as it appeared. She needs to be all business with this person, or she herself will end up in the drink. Feeding the fishes, as the mob says.
The passenger in the seat next to her is readying his gear to leave the plane and grumbling about the lack of convenience in air travel these days.
Addie considers she’s about the same age as the man. He turns his head to meet her eyes and says, “Taking a plane used to be fun. Remember those days? That’s when you didn’t have any security and you could get up and walk around the plane. They even had buffet lines in the aisle of the plane to make deli sandwiches.”
Addie agrees, “Back in the nineties. Yeah, I was on one plane that flew to Denver that had a spiral staircase. It went from the main cabin to a lounge area where you could get a drink and hang out. It was like a bar you’d find in Manhattan. And when my parents would pay a visit, I would take my dog right to the gate on a leash, to be there to meet them as they came off the plane.”
“Well, those days are over,” the man finishes and then stands up to join the other passengers, ready to file off.
“Sad,” she replies, as they take their carry-ons and disembark.
She doesn’t have any checked luggage since this is going to be a quick trip. After retrieving her rental car, Addie heads directly to where Miami P.D. told her she would most likely be able to find Fuendes. Fuendes is the one person who will be able to more clearly tell her where Joey went to and why. As she’s driving, she calls MPD to check in. She needs to tell them she’s arrived. She’s carrying weaponry, and it’s important MPD doesn’t shoot her as an “unknown.” After the call, she opens her carry-on in the seat next to her and takes out the small lockbox. Opening it, she finds her service weapon and her belt holster designed for concealed weapons and ammo.
She’s headed to Little Havana. It’s just west of downtown and has a lot of bars and nightspots that Fuendes frequents. She’s not a celebrity figure and likes to keep a low profile, but she’s attractive and likes to have a good time, too. You can’t have it both ways. Addie’s first stop is Bar Nancy. She exits her rental, stuffs her gun behind her back, and makes for the front door. It’s lunchtime, and the restaurant and bar are packed. Showing the bartender her badge, he gives her his full attention, and she shows him the picture of Daisy Fuendes.
“Have you seen Daisy?” she asks, almost barking the question. She’s not here to be polite. Some of the people in the bar are the rough kind, and they don’t get white glove service from Addie. What they do get is her unnerving glare as she sweeps the crowd, holding the photo up to the man’s face.
When her eyes return to the bartender, he simply replies, “Never seen her.”
Addie grips the man’s hand with her left and twists his thumb backward, which is a) painful and b) hard to get out of. Opposable thumbs have their advantages and disadvantages.
“Look again,” Addie says, and then she smiles that fake, sweet smile that says “please.”
Wincing, he eagerly tells her, “Oh, yeah! Yeah! That’s Daisy! She’s not here!”
She releases his hand, “If she comes in, have her call me,” she tells him, throwing her card on the counter. She walks out, gets into her rental, and hits up the next place, Garcia Cony, where she does the same routine. And then, two more.
She knows she won’t find Daisy in the bars she goes to. She also knows she won’t have to find Daisy at all.
Daisy Fuendes will find her.
◆◆◆
Addie steps from her rental, parked at the curb in front of a fire hydrant, an MPD permit on the dash. Walking to the nearby beach area, she’s decided to take an afternoon stroll on the boardwalk. The sunny day is warm, and a breeze coming from the water smells good. Sometimes, she can taste the salty brine as she passes down the walkway under swaying palm trees. Being alone like this isn’t a problem for her, it’s her private time.
She needs to clear her head. Thoughts of Frank keep creeping into her mind. And she likes it. So, on this little walk, she allows herself to give time to her relationship with him. She put their romance on hold in October because of the distance between them and because his divorce was too recent. This is what she tells herself. But she knows the real reason is she’s afraid. Afraid to fall in love with him and then see it all end. Afraid to take that risk. She’s forty-six now, and her track record isn’t very good. When she started something up with a man before, it would usually end because she was intimidating, or too smart for him, or both.
Frank’s not intimidated. And her current problem isn’t that she’s afraid to fall in love with him. Her current problem is that she already has. It’s been four months since she made her decision and told Frank they needed to take a break. Before that day, those three months before were the happiest she had ever been. Their friendship had taken off like a rocket. They liked each other, were kind to each other, and they both felt deep down they had fallen for each other the first time they met at Frank’s mother’s house. Addie had been canvassing the area in Heritage Hills to put together the events and people on July 18th, the day Elsie Battaglia was murdered. Frank’s mother, Reggi, lived nearby to the Joneses’—Battaglia’s—home in the same community.
When Frank walked in that day, he shook Addie’s proffered hand, and then held it. She couldn’t have cared less if he ever gave it back to her. It felt right. He was smashing good-looking with a thin frame and neatly parted brown hair over an angular jawline with dark brown eyes. But it was more than just that. He’s more than just that. To her.
Frank is the most important person she has ever had in her life. She feels cowardly and cheap for putting “them” on hold. She’s a little ashamed she did that, and it hurt him. But she didn’t break up with him, despite what he says. The past four months he’s gotten extremely pesky, texting her, calling her, sending her love letters. This guy just won’t give up. She really didn’t expect him to. She believes it’s because both of them think of each other as someone who will always be there, and no one else.
She finds herself smiling, then she takes that smile and puts it away for use later. She returns to the business be
fore her. This is dangerous work, no slip-ups allowed.
When she reaches the southern tip of South Beach, she starts northward on the other side, the bayside, heading for a place she was last September, when she first met Joey Riggoti. Miami Beach Marina. Once she arrives, she opens the office door, waves to the marina girl behind the desk, and introduces herself. The girl remembers her from September, and then answers the question about Joey. She hasn’t seen him since Monday. Addie tells her she’ll be going to his apartment and the girl gives her the keys.
Addie exits the marina office, walks over to the small gray building overlooking the marina, and ascends the stairs to the second floor. Looking around, the walls are lined with photographs. There are life-size shots of Joey with his family, with presidents, with his yacht club members, one with Joey and a monstrosity of a swordfish.
The maid appears and asks Addie if she’d like anything. They remember each other. Addie orders a club soda with lemon and a small plate of fruit.
As the maid begins to exit, Addie asks, “Can you make that two sodas?” The maid nods, then goes down the stairs. Addie sits down.
And then she waits.
◆◆◆
Addie hears the door open and then quietly shut. Outside to Addie’s right, the gulls squeal, boats rock back and forth, and bells ring from buoys as they turn around and around like drunken sailors. There are steps on the stairs which can be lightly heard also. One. Two. Soon, a head rises slowly from the stairwell. When the visitor sees Addie’s piercing, green eyes staring at her, she pauses.
