Killer on Call 6 Book Bundle (Books 1-6)

by Gwendolyn Druyor

  After an agonizing moment, Kissy’s voice spoke in his ear. “No,” she said firmly. And then again more gently, “no. You do what you’re supposed to do. I’m fine. The pictures were just a shock. I should never have looked. Can I get you a drink?”

  And the earpiece went silent again. Kissy’s message was clear. And Avi knew she could take care of herself so he straightened his dreadful sweater and crossed back over to Mrs. Langdon.

  “Jason, you just shove over there and let Officer Kee sit next to me.”

  Avi sat between the two and clarified, “It’s just Avi, Mrs. Langdon. Just call me Avi.”

  “Well don’t you dare call me Adelyne.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. Now you were telling me about how helpful the mayor’s office has been since the fire.”

  “The mayor,” Mrs. Langdon’s middle aged son said. “The mayor’s office doesn’t answer our phone calls. They won’t give us any answers on what they’re doing about rebuilding.”

  Adelyne Langdon swatted at her son’s knee across Avi’s lap and missed. “Now, you just be nice. And quiet.” She looked up at Avi, shaking her head. “My son, the accountant, thinks he knows everything. Mayor Sutton has been mighty helpful in collecting canned goods for the group pantry and arranging temporary housing where he can. He even came to visit us before the fire when he should have been campaigning for governor.”

  “Mom, he was campaigning. He was showing everybody how much he cares about the little people.”

  “I am not the little people, young man.”

  “I am not saying you’re the. . . Mom.” Jason sighed.

  “Mrs. Langdon, would you like to get one of those peppermint hot chocolates we keep seeing walking by?” Avi stood and offered his arm.

  Adelyne stood up and took his arm. “Only if we can find a little Bailey’s to add in. You go ahead and follow behind us quietly, Jason.”

  “Mayor Sutton visited the Parkside Projects just before the fire?” Avi asked as they walked.

  “Yes sir. He examined the buildings top to bottom. And he brought us cake.”

  “He looked at the basements?” Avi found that a little strange.

  “Yes, a top to bottom examination,” she confirmed not really paying attention to Avi anymore.

  They’d reached the line outside The Coffeeshop and Mrs. Langdon seemed more interested in seeing if she knew anybody else in the line or among those already enjoying their hot drinks. Avi recognized Moira Bagwell and her cousin Kimi cleaning up around the outside of the shop and taking orders from the people nearer the front of the line. It looked like they’d been conscripted to help out with Trevor still busy in the poker game.

  The line was long and Avi worried about Mrs. Langdon being able to stand for a while. But the old woman sat herself down at a table with an empty chair and made friends with the young family taking the other three seats. She chatted up their little girl and cooed at the newborn as if she’d known them all her life.

  Jason slipped in beside Avi and took up his mother’s story. “Mom told me he checked all the exits and entrances to the basements. He was in the room where the fire started less than thirty-six hours prior.” He spoke quietly so his mother wouldn’t hear. “He shook their hands. He hugged my mother, kissed the babies. Those buildings weren’t up to code and he didn’t do anything about it.”

  A sudden commotion pulled their attention to a group of people in the doorway of the new resale shop just down the street. A large Asian Pacific man with a three day beard started yelling and pushed away from the rest heading straight for The Coffeeshop line. He wasn’t ten yards away, reeking of alcohol when he broke into a run, screaming, “Jason freakin Langdon!”

  Avi reached for his gun and got yet another reminder of his suspension from the force. The man was barreling straight for the accountant. Just before they collided, Avi slid between them, snagging the new man’s wrist and twisting it up into the air as he hip checked him and gently took him to the ground.

  “What the. . .” The man started to protest but Avi stopped him, pressing his knee between the guy’s shoulder blades.

  “There are children here,” he said quietly.

  “Yeah. That’s why I’m not fucking swearing,” the man hissed back. “But I am going to kill you if you don’t let me go.”

  “Boys!” Adelyne Langdon held her hand over the baby’s ears when she yelled.

  “Sorry Mrs. Langdon.” The man under Avi stopped struggling.

  “Sorry Mom.”

  Adelyne turned back to her new friends and Jason Langdon stepped in to make the introductions. “Avi, this is my friend Terrance. He’s the chess master of the Parkside projects.”

  “Was,” the chess master grunted.

  Jason crouched down by his friend’s face. “Terrance, this is Avi. He’s a killer bass player and a cop.”

  Avi took his knee of the man’s back. “Was.” He carefully straightened his arm, and offered him a hand up. “Sorry about that.”

  The big man took the assist and got to his feet, brushing himself off as best he could although much of the dirt and debris from the ground stuck to him like he was covered in glue. When he was done, he stuck out his hand and shook Avi’s for a long time. “No hard feelings. I was gonna beat Jason within an inch of his life but my time on the ground there has brought me to my senses. We really should do like his mama always says and hug it out.”

  He reached behind Avi in a flash and dragged Jason into a bear hug, explaining, “I watched over my friend’s mother at the projects. As a thank you, he signed me up for a shift in the dunk tank tonight and some joker filled it with beer.”

  “It’s twenty-five degrees out.” Avi ignored Jason’s pleas for assistance. “Why is there a dunk tank?”

  “They said they’d heat the water,” Jason muttered, his face buried in Terrance’s chest.

  With a final mussing of his hair, Terrance finally released him. “It was probably one of the mayor’s brilliant plans. He couldn’t burn all the poor folk to death so he’ll freeze us instead.”

  “You think the mayor burned down the projects?” Avi asked.

  “I’m a chess player, son,” Terrance began. “In order to win the governorship, he needs to reassure the rich people that he’s looking out for their money. He’s attracting the family tourists with the dockside renovation and now that we’re out of the way, he can unveil his plan to attract adult tourists with a sin city center right where our homes used to be.”

  “That’s outrageous,” Avi protested.

  “I’ve seen the city planners with their spray paint and theodolites.,” Terrance insisted. “They’ve been prepping for this for months. The only person in town hall who’s given us any thought is Ms. Coldman.”

  “Really?” Avi saw Mrs. Langdon nodding her head and realized the woman was listening to every word.

  Jason gave up trying to wipe beer and dust off himself. “Mom said that councilwoman and her lady lackey came by the day after the mayor’s campaign parade and gave the building supers some wedges to hold doors open so folks could get out more easily if there was a fire. But that was it. No building inspectors or contractors or god forbid anyone from OSHA.”

  “I didn’t know Patrice Coldman had an assistant.” Avi wondered if she’d taken the city manager, Nancy Burton. Nancy was so demur he could easily imagine her being mistaken for an assistant.

  “That weren’t no assistant with her.” Mrs. Langdon gave the baby back and joined the boys. “I saw. I had the best window in Building B. They were nuzzling each other in the SUV when they thought no one could see them. I think they’re a couple of those, what do you call them? Good time gals.”

  “Mom.” Jason rolled his eyes. “Patrice Coldman is married, to a man.”

  “I know.” Mrs. Langdon’s eyes twinkled as she took Avi’s arm and pulled him down to her. “Isn’t it scandalous?”

  “Hi, Officer Kee.”

  Avi looked over to see Kimi Dannon standing near
by with Moira. They were both shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot and looking to each other to speak up.

  “Hey Kimi.” He smiled at the shy red head. “Moira. Do you need something?”

  “Your friends smell really bad,” Moira announced. “You wanna use our bathroom to clean up?”

  Terrance looked around, noticing how the line had broken up and customers were moving away from them. “Wow. That’s embarrassing. And I’m not even drunk.”

  “Really?” Moira rolled her eyes at him.

  Terrance raised his eyebrows and looked like he was going to school Moira for her attitude but Jason put an arm around his friend. “Thank you. We’ll use the bathroom.”

  They started towards the front door but Moira stopped them, trying to be a little more polite. “Uh, yeah. We’ll take you around the back. It’s no problem.”

  “I don’t know how much I can clean up without burning these clothes,” Terrance pointed out.

  “We live over the shop.” Trevor Bagwell crossed the cobblestones to join them. “We can throw your clothes in our washer.”

  Moira screamed, “Daddy!” and launched herself at her father. Then she backed out of his embrace, her face a mask of grief. “Did you lose?”

  “I’m sorry babe.” Trevor kissed his daughter’s cheek. “But I only won six thousand dollars.”

  The girls screamed and jumped up and down hugging each other. “Classes for everyone!” they shouted.

  “They let you out of the game?” Avi asked.

  “Gina pulled a thousand dollars from her purse to match the pot. The mayor pulled an extra three from his pocket to stay in. He said two good things could come out of the Parkside fire. The land was cleared and someone at that poker table was gonna get rich. That’s when I ran away.” Trevor led them around the side of the shop as he told his story. “I wish we had some clothes big enough for you but we’re a pretty svelte family.”

  “Thanks. That’s really nice of you,” Terrance said, “but it’s okay.”

  Moira stopped her screaming and dancing for a second. “Dad, don’t we have that Santa suit you always have to stuff?”

  Trevor Bagwell grinned and shrugged at the large man. “We do have a Santa suit.”

  Avi stepped away from the dancing girls and giggling grown men, letting them continue on to the back door of The Coffeeshop. He hit the little silver transmitter button on his sleeve and reluctantly reported, “Guys, with the website Kissy found and the reports I’m hearing from former residents of Parkside I think the mayor really did burn down the projects.

  Seven

  Tim held a hand up to his right ear and set that elbow on the table as if he was leaning on the hand. The music was turned low and the spectators murmured respectfully. The four remaining players didn’t speak at all. But the growling coming through Kissy’s transmitter was still drowned out by the sea of white noise around him.

  He kept his eyes focused on the chips in the center of the table. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gina exchange two cards. The bet came to him and barely giving it a thought he tossed in two thousand, a low but not embarrassing bet the way they’d been playing.

  He was able to keep his face neutral only from years of practice. The mayor set his cards on the table and slid them to Lee. Tim was focused on the noises in his right ear. He concentrated on keeping this fact out of his eyes. But as the growling in his ear grew louder, he picked his glass up and emptied it. Then he tapped it on his nose, hiding half his face.

  The growling calmed and Tim glanced up. He caught Patrice Coldman staring straight at him. And he realized she thought he was hiding a good hand, a great hand. She thought his low bet was slow roll.

  Keeping his eyes on hers, he set his glass down and leaned back in his chair. He let his right hand drift away from his ear though the sudden silence from Kissy’s end kept the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He let a smile sparkle in his eyes and drift down to his lips. A quick twerk of his eyebrows challenged her.

  The competition was thinning. Tim didn’t see how any of them could survive the game if the commissioner kept letting Gina pull cash from her purse. He probably wouldn’t have allowed it but every time she added money, she tithed ten percent to his Parkside fund. Coldman had the chips to stay in on almost everything. Tim had the chips to match. The mayor was starting to fold early on a lot of hands.

  His grin worked. Coldman tossed her cards. Gina followed suit and Tim raked in seventeen k on four low spades and the king of hearts.

  Kissy’s voice sounded in his ear, drowning out all thoughts of the game.

  “How about I call you Timothy?” she asked.

  The growling recommenced as Lee shuffled the deck. It was underscored by Tim’s increasing heartbeat. Then a voice cut through the hushed crowd.

  “Hey Jessica! Have you seen Kissy?”

  Avi stood in a shaft of light from the hallway. He could have reached the bar in two steps but instead he yelled from the doors. Tim saw Jessica shake her head and start to say something but Avi cut her off.

  “Thanks.” He turned and looked directly at Tim. “I’ll go find her.”

  The big man turned and even from where he was, Tim could hear the commotion of his passing. He felt his heartbeat slow. He smiled up at the others, laughing at the interruption with them as cards spun across the felt.

  Then that sexy, scared little voice in his ear sighed, “Okay, Killer it is.” Her voice sounded muffled as she went on. “Bad news guys. Mayor Sutton is definitely training fighting dogs.”

  Eight

  The wind cut at Avi’s face as he raced his bike down the smoothly paved roads leading to the nice but not nicest neighborhood in town. Cars raced by him and Avi wished for the first time since the explosion that he hadn’t replaced his sports car with a road bike.

  He’d run all the way to town hall to find the mayor’s address. But once he’d gotten there he hadn’t been able to figure out where to get the address. He was sure Tim would know, but Tim was being Red Logan at the highest stakes poker game the town had ever seen and Avi couldn’t get close. Then he’d found Nancy Burton and couldn’t find a way to ask. So he’d stopped in at his precinct and pretending to be as slick as Tim, he’d talked his way behind the desk and when the sergeant stepped away to get him some coffee, he’d used her terminal to pull up the mayor’s address and slipped away before she returned.

  He’d paused at the line of cruisers outside thinking of the skeleton key in his pocket. But couldn’t bring himself to take one. He’s strapped on his helmet and swung a leg over the brown leather Brooks saddle, clipped his feet into the pedals, and pushed his legs to their limit.

  He leaned away from the turn praying his tires would grip the road as he took a left onto Orange Blvd. The house numbers were clearly stenciled on the curbs and he unclipped as he approached 13275. At the driveway, he swung his leg off and tossed the steel frame into the small yard. He ran around the side to the back where he found the door unlocked. He ripped it open and fumbled for a moment with the latch on the inner screen door. He noticed an old fashioned match holder nailed to the frame at chest height. Instead of matches, it was holding dog treats. When he finally got the screen open, he scooped up a handful and turned to race in and find the kitchen.

  “Freeze!” A craggy-faced middle aged man in loose jeans and a greasy work shirt stood just inside the door to the laundry room. Avi was impressed that he noticed all these details despite the most salient detail of the man. White glowed from his knuckles in front of the leashes wrapped around his hands. Avi couldn’t see the man’s biceps under his shirt, but he could see the knots of muscle standing out on his forearms. The leads led to plain leather collars on the necks of three hefty pit bulls drooling and straining to reach Avi who was pushed a step further inside by the screen door slamming on his backside.

  Avi stuffed the dog treats into his sleeve and put his hands up to reassure the man if not the dogs.

  “I don’t know who you
are or what you’re doing here.” The man took a step towards Avi, letting the dogs get a foot closer to him. “I have three killers here. Take a look at their faces and then listen to me. Freeze.”

  Avi wiggled his fingers to reinforce that his hands were in the air. Meanwhile he searched the room for anything that might help him. The outer door wasn’t quite shut. It was held slightly open by Avi’s ass. In front of him to the side nearest the white-eared blue pit bull with a cracked incisor were a dirty white side by side washer and dryer with a dozen neatly folded sheets and towels stacked on top. A two-door cabinet hung on the wall above the set. On the opposite wall, a window was cracked, letting the winter air in.

  The man tilted his head, looking at Avi with a similar expression to the German Shepherd-Pit mix on his left. “That’s a really ugly sweater. Bad fashion choice for a break-in, buddy.”

  Avi made note of the two-way hinges on the door behind the man. The door was propped open somehow and he could see the top portion of a silver refrigerator and a row of maple cabinets wallpapered with notes and charts and what looked like blueprints. The center Little Rascals type Pit Bull who looked more like a monster than a dog growled deep in his throat.

  Avi took a deep breath and smiled gently, careful not to look in the dog’s eyes. “You don’t like my sweater, Armando?”

  The man’s face blanched and then he looked down at the embroidered name on his shirt. He shook his head, sadly. “Although as a plus it distracts from your face. Turn around, walk away, burn the sweater, and I probably won’t remember you. Keep standing there like an asshole and I’ll release the dogs.”

  Avi reached behind and put a hand on the door to reassure the guy he was going to leave. But he didn’t walk away.

  He said, “A friend called me. I’m just here to pick her up.”

  “There’s no one here but me and the dogs.”

  Avi joined Armando and the dog in their inquisitive head tilt and listened carefully to the transmitter in his ear. He could hear the low growling and heavy scared breathing that had been the soundtrack of the last ten minutes of his life.