by R Weir
“Next time I stop by, I’ll give you a heads up. Might give you a chance to snoop around and see what you can find.”
“Call the main line. If I’m not there, you can leave a message. I pretty much work six days a week. I can use the overtime.”
“How does that work?” I asked, curiously. “Do you get two checks?”
“I wish. The money I earn here goes into the FBI funds. Not sure where it goes from there.”
I smirked. “Pays for Catalina’s etiquette training.”
She laughed.
“When I call, who do I ask for? I didn’t get your name.”
“Grace is my cover name. Maybe when this is all over, you can get my real name and number.”
“Nice offer. Though my girlfriend might object. Probably not thrilled with your kiss, if she found out. I need to make sure the lipstick is gone.”
She looked rueful, but grinned at me nonetheless. “Claim it was all in the line of duty.”
It normally was, and what had gotten me in trouble more times than I cared to count.
Chapter 47
April’s streak of working days had ended. She had stopped by, plopped on my couch and sighed, looking exhausted. I gave her a kiss and hug, before throwing some dinner on a plate. I had picked up from the deli; fried chicken, twice-baked potatoes and some pasta salad. We ate on the sofa with TV and DVD playing a movie I rented. She fell asleep shortly after and I carried her to bed. This time I decided to let her sleep, which she did solidly until the next morning. I had pieced together some breakfast from what I had, pancakes and bacon, waiting to ask her for a favor.
“What is your going rate for bodyguard work?” I asked.
She yawned, as she pulled at her tousled hair. “Who am I guarding and how dangerous is the work?”
“I doubt she is in danger, but I need to make certain. I’ve put some things in motion that may put her in harm’s way.”
She took several bites of pancakes. They were large and thick like she liked them. She could put away calories, but remained in great shape, thanks to her work ethic.
“Who am I watching?”
“Lady who escaped from The Butcher’s clutches. She is a teacher at the Colorado School of Mines.”
“Why can’t you watch her?”
I swallowed several bites as well, followed by some bacon. I too was a calorie machine.
“Because I believe they will take a run at me. And I don’t want her around if that happens.”
She put down her fork and swallowed down half the tall glass of milk I’d poured her.
“Are you planning on sitting and waiting for them to attack?” She sounded concerned.
“No. I’ll be prepared and ready.”
“How long will you need me to watch her?”
“A few days. Right now, Doris, the FBI profiler, is keeping an eye on her. But she can’t watch her forever. She would be teaching classes right now but will be leaving around three. Gives you time to get some things together and meet her at school, if you agree.”
“You seem certain I would help.”
I smiled at her, “I know you pretty well. You have a good heart and like helping people. If not, then I’ll go to plan B.”
“Which is?”
“I wasn’t going to worry about it until plan A fell through. Sam, or Parker, at the mission would be a possibility.”
April finished her plate, enjoying the last couple of bites of bacon, before polishing off the rest of her milk.
“Thank you for letting me sleep last night,” she said gratefully. “I really needed it.”
“I know. After the last time, I figured I owed you. I don’t think you were all that thrilled with me.”
“I wasn’t. It seemed as if you used sex to console my anger. Not that I didn’t enjoy it, but I still needed to be angry with you keeping me out of the loop in your life.” She looked at me with a flash of a glare, and a hint of something else.
“I understand. And that’s why I’m bringing you in now.” I stared back, enjoying her gaze.
“Because you want me to help or you need me to help?”
“Both, I would say.”
She stood up, wearing the white robe she had kept at my place.
“I have several days off coming up and I could use the extra money. Get me that much closer to the motorcycle I’m wanting. But you need to promise me something.”
I stood as well, standing just a few inches from her lovely face.
“Name it.”
“We go do something. A long weekend, a week, whatever. Rent an extravagant place in Estes Park or Vail. Just the two of us enjoying our time together. No bad guys, no crooks, no guns or peril. All for us.”
I pulled her close to me and kissed her. “Deal. Anything I can do for you?”
“Let me shower in peace, so I can head home and get myself together before heading off to Golden.”
I gave her a big hug and left her to clean up, while I got the dishes washed and put away. I then called Jonas to see how he was doing.
“Staying safe?” I asked.
“Yes. We are holed up at a place belonging to some friends in Buffalo Creek. No sign of trouble so far.”
“Any of your work getting published?”
“Three so far. Several local papers, magazines and of course, some websites have picked them up. Hopefully we can get a resolution I can write about.” He sounded pleased.
“Working on it. I got Simon hot under the collar. Talked about his sister and parents, which aggravated him. Do you know if his parents are dead?”
“Yes. Died before the original killings started. Car accident if I recall right. Nothing suspicious from the report I saw. Simon and his sister inherited their money. They were quite wealthy and it set them up for life. Neither would have to work if they didn’t want to.”
Interesting news about the accident. Even if it nothing suspicious was found, it might be worth nosing into. Still I had plenty going on already and adding more might not be a good idea.
“Any rumblings about the parents?”
“Nothing overt I’m aware of. Why?”
“I’m thinking they may have played a role in how Simon developed. Possibly the mother.” I told him what Simon had said about her.
“Possible they played a part. Doubt we’ll ever know for certain. The rich often have skeletons in their closet they keep hidden. Wealth doesn’t preclude them from being abusers. Just rich enough to keep it concealed and buried.”
“Until the son becomes a serial killer. Shame they didn’t live long enough to see their heirs evolve. Speaking of which, I’m expecting some type of push back here soon. How is Melissa?”
“Good and safe. Tony said he’d make sure she was out of the line of fire. With work and school, she is rarely alone these days. She should be fine, though as a father you always worry, even when there isn’t a maniac killer running loose.”
I understood the feeling and always worried about her. She was tough enough mentally, though not physically as tough as April, still she could handle herself. But it was not the type of life she wanted. Jonas and I said our goodbyes and I waited for April.
“I’m heading home to relax and pack some things,” announced April, emerging from the bathroom. “Keep me informed of what’s going on.”
“I sent all the info on her and where to meet up to your phone. Keep your head on a swivel. They’re likely to come at you from all sides. And don’t hesitate.”
“Never have before,” she said, while hugging me and then she headed out the door.
I checked all my guns. A set of Berettas and two .38’s. It had been a while since I’d maintained the Berettas, so I took them both apart and cleaned them thoroughly, then reassembling the pieces making sure they worked properly. Once done I verified I had plenty of ammunition. Two extra clips of 9mm bullets which would be safely stored in my shoulder holster. Extra .38 ammo were quickly loaded with two speed loaders stored in a coat pocket. It seeme
d I was prepared for war. I started doing a quick cleaning on the .38’s when Melissa called.
“The rape and child porn case are starting to fall apart,” she said, sounding pleased. “The rape test came back as a negative match to you. And like you said, no fingerprints on the USB drive. There is nothing in the photos that leads them to believe it was you taking any of the pictures. The DA is seriously considering dropping the charges.”
“Good to hear.” I felt relieved the situation was no longer a thorn in my side. Though she wouldn’t be happy I decided to let her know what I’d learned about Milani. “Against your advice, I did go to her apartment. Management says she moved out right before the incident. And suddenly, with no notice.”
“Nice to know you follow counsel’s directive,” Melissa scoffed. “Now I know how Barry feels. I guess I need to work on my swearing if I’m to help you.”
“Looking more and more like a setup. I’m just not sure yet who or why. I would assume if there was a reason I’ll find out eventually.” I changed the subject. “I talked with your dad. He says you’re working and studying hard.”
“I am with my big test on the horizon. And I’m safe. Tony is making sure no one comes after me, if there is a threat.”
“I’m sorry this has come across your doorstep again.” I said, genuinely apologetic.
“I know. But not all your fault. I was the one who suggested Dad hire you. It will be good for him to get closure on this case. It has been weighing on him for many years. Mom will be happy once it’s over.”
Guilt always ruled me, when the danger in my life crossed into others, especially those I cared about.
“That’ll be soon I hope. Take care.”
“You too.”
She hung up the phone, and I felt sadness overcome me. Not being close to her still hurt. I had hoped that with us no longer being together it would mean that she would be safe and free from any harm from the work I did. It would appear that wouldn’t be the case.
I had errands to do, like getting some food. I could hole myself up and wait for them to make a run, but I wasn’t going to do that. I checked over what was left in the fridge and it was mostly barren. Milk, two eggs, a sliver of cheddar cheese, two slices of whole wheat bread and two beers was all. The freezer had ice, two pounds of hamburger and one New York strip steak. I wouldn’t starve but it wouldn’t hurt to pick up a few things.
I had started a list when my phone rang. This time the number didn’t tell me who it was.
“Jarvis Mann,” said the voice on the other end. It was vaguely familiar.
“Speaking.”
“Do you know who this is?”
“Not off hand.”
“Chuck Getty. Do you remember me?”
“I do. Last time we talked, you were not thrilled when we left you at Red Rocks to walk home.”
If he was still mad, he didn’t mention it. “Not sure why I’m calling you. But I don’t want any part of what is about to happen. I felt it was best to let you know.”
“Go on.”
There was a pause. He seemed nervous. I waited to give him time to say what he wanted. It would be interesting what he was about to say.
“You know the two guys I was with at the bar in Morrison?”
“I won’t soon forget them.”
“They plan on going down to Pueblo this afternoon to visit a certain lady. They have orders to kill her.”
“What lady?”
“Belinda Woodley.” He said the name slowly, as if to build suspense.
My heart skipped a beat, this wasn’t good, and this didn’t make sense to me at all. “Why?”
“Not really certain. Something about being worried she’ll talk.”
She was sick and possibly dying. Maybe they were concerned she’d have nothing to lose and speak out.
“Are you going?” I asked.
“No. I don’t want any part of it. I’m packing up and leaving. All of this is too much for me.” He sounded scared.
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because you can stop them.”
“Yes, I can,” I answered.
“Then you’re going down there?” He sounded hopeful.
“I’ll leave right away.”
“No cops. If they see any sign of them, they will kill her immediately.”
“Understood.”
“Great,” he said suddenly, and then hung up.
I packed up my things and headed towards the Mustang, feeling certain this was a trap. Nevertheless, I had no choice but to go and face it. I didn’t want Belinda Woodley’s death on my conscience.
Chapter 48
It was later in the afternoon but seemed like night. There was a storm brewing, with dark clouds, thunder and lightning and next to no sun. Rain was beginning to fall slowly, with big, fat drops, plastering anything in their path. The wind was picking up, rocking the Mustang as I sat there contemplating on what to do. I had quickly stopped in at King Soopers to find out that Belinda was not working today. A quick check showed the only car was the same older Corolla in the carport I’d seen before. There were too many cars on the street in the area to decide if one of them was Simmons’ or Morgan’s vehicle since I didn’t know for certain what they were driving. Though it was dark, I could see no lights on inside. The two front windows appeared closed, the drapes drawn. There was a front door, one under the carport and likely a back entrance. There was no sign of activity while I was watching. For all I knew she could already be dead. But thinking that didn’t get me anywhere. There was no safe way to do this. I moved my car out of sight down the street, got out and headed for her house.
The wind was brisk, and the temperature had fallen a good fifteen degrees. I had my Rockies cap on to shield my head from the showers and a cheap yellow poncho to protect my body. It also served to hide my guns. My hand cradled the Beretta, shielded under the poncho, the shoulder holster under my left arm, the .38 strapped on my ankle as a backup. I held my hat with my left hand, preventing it from blowing away. I cut up the driveway of the house next door and used it to shield me.
As far as I could tell no one was home, so crouching low, I moved across the front, the bushes providing some cover. Reaching the edge of the neighbor’s house, I could see the carport and the side door. I sat and waited, the moisture running off me; even my running shoes were starting to feel wet, as the rain only increased.
I was trying to be patient, not certain what to expect. If there were two of them, one could be inside, the other waiting outside. If it was truly a trap. If not and they had already accomplished their task and left, then all my waiting would be for naught. I steadied myself, hoping the latter wasn’t true. My long sleeve shirt and jeans were only a little damp so far, but the chill of the wind was starting to be felt. I couldn’t stay here forever. I gave it ten minutes and then moved to the side of the Corolla, happy the carport was providing some relief.
The side door to the house was closed and still no light was on inside. I huddled and waited again, until I heard the door open and saw George Morgan step out. In his right hand he held a small 9mm of some kind, in his left an electronic vaporizer, which he took a draw on and let a long stream of vapor into the air. I held my ground making sure he didn’t see me. I could smell the aroma, but I was not certain what it was. He was probably trying to calm his nerves, something I was trying to do. I could hear him walking on the other side, pacing. It would seem he didn’t know I was there. This could be a trap kept playing in my head. There weren’t many options to choose from.
After weighing the choices, I decided to make a move. Quietly, the wind and thunder helping hide my footsteps, crouching still, I moved around to the front of the car. I peered around low to see his back to me as he took more puffs. I launched quickly, sticking my gun in his back.
“Don’t move, or say a word or you’re dead,” I said softly.
He stood still, his gun hand steady at his side.
“Place your gun on the trunk
of the car, slowly, holding the grip with two fingers. A wrong twitch and I shoot you through the back. Do you understand?”
He nodded and did as he was told.
“Now the pipe as well.”
He did the same and I put my left hand on his shoulder guiding him, turning him around, while I kept the gun in his back. I then grabbed his gun and tossed it into the neighbor’s yard.
“Is Blake inside with Belinda?” I asked.
He nodded his head.
“Is she still alive?”
Again, he nodded.
“The plan is we all stay alive. Where is he holding her?”
He delayed in answering. I shoved the gun barrel harder into his back to get his attention.
“Living room,” he said softly, knowing I was in command.
“Now walk. We will go slowly through the door. Any sudden moves and you’re the first to die.”
His body tensed at my final words. He nodded and started walking. He was my shield. I hoped Blake was not a trigger-happy fool, but he seemed the impulsive type. Slowly moving through the kitchen, past the opening where we saw Blake sitting on the sofa, Belinda in the rocking chair, his gun pointed straight at her.
“Hello Jarvis,” he said. “Happy you can join us.”
“Blake, put down the gun or your friend dies.”
“Go ahead. Then the lovely lady dies next. Once the excess baggage is gone, it’s a matter of which of us is faster. I’m thinking I can put you down before you can kill me. Care to wager?”
I felt George tense up when he heard what Blake said.
“Maybe I’ll shoot you first instead of George,” I stated.
“You think you can react that quickly?” Blake’s confidence was scary and I was beginning to feel uncertain.
“I do. Though I figure you have an ace up your sleeve.”
“And what would that be?”
“I figure Chuck is around here somewhere. Why don’t you have him step out where I can see him?”
