The Front Range Butcher: A Jarvis Mann Private Detective HardBoiled Mystery Novel (Jarvis Mann Detective Book 7)

by R Weir

  “Not sure what you’re talking about.” He tried to keep his face neutral, but his eyes flicked to the hall.

  “When he called me, tipping me off. I doubted he would walk away that easily. I was watching for him outside and didn’t see him. I figure he must be down the hall in one of the bedrooms waiting, keeping Belinda’s dog company. Have him step on out so I know what I’m up against.”

  Blake hesitated, but then smiled, before calling Chuck’s name. He stepped out into view, a gun at his side. He looked nervous.

  “It would seem you didn’t convince Jarvis,” said Blake.

  “I’m sorry. I did as you told me,” said Chuck. Sweat was forming on his face, whether he faked it with me or not, something was definitely going on.

  “What gave him away?” queried Blake.

  “There was fear in his voice. But not enough. He is a follower and does what you tell him. I figured it was a trap and he would be an ace in the hole if I got the drop on you two.”

  “Word we got was you’re pretty good, which appears to be accurate. I like a challenge. What is the word you got on me?” Blake spoke with no fear.

  “That you’re a dick.”

  He started laughing. “An accurate description I would say. But let me ask you this. Are you scared to die? Look into my eyes, Jarvis. Do I look scared to you?”

  I could see it in Chuck’s eyes and feel it in George’s body twitches as I stood behind him. Blake, on the other hand, was right, he wasn’t scared. Death for some was never an issue, and that was always a dangerous foe to go up against. I had no desire to die. I wanted to live, but I was also willing to go to that length if necessary. I also wanted the woman a few feet away to live as well, even though her time may have been short.

  “It appears we are at a standoff,” I said. “How do we resolve it?”

  “By you surrendering.”

  “The only way that will happen, is for you to leave Belinda alone. Let her live out what little time she has left. Simon would have to agree to leave her unharmed.” I threw out Simon’s name so everyone in the room knew he was involved.

  Belinda reacted to the name, her chair rocking slowly. I finally had the confirmation I needed.

  “Simon is involved?” Her voice cracked.

  “He is. Isn’t that right, Blake?”

  Blake only shrugged.

  “Why would he want me dead? I’ve done everything he has asked.” You could see she was scared.

  I looked at her. “Worried about a deathbed confession, now that I’m involved. Who knows? He is a psychopath who is orchestrating the killing of women again. Maybe he wants to do it because it’s in his nature.”

  She looked horrified. “He promised me, he would never do it again. I kept my word. All his secrets. I’ve been the perfect woman for him.”

  “Apparently not anymore.” Though I was talking with Belinda, my eyes remained on Blake.

  “I bowed to his wishes. Gave him what he wanted; my body. And a child he always desired to have.”

  “How do you answer her, Blake?” I said. “She has been a good soldier all these years and now this. Give her a reason.”

  Blake didn’t answer. He wouldn’t know the backstory, and even if he did, he wouldn’t care. The tension in the room was thick. My eyes were on Blake and Chuck, my hand on George, waiting for any sudden movement on his part. I was starting to sweat too, the exploding sound of thunder crackling outside, wind driven rain pounding against the house. I was ready when the time came to act.

  “I’m sorry you’re involved Belinda,” I said. “It would seem they have no answers to give you on why they are here. None of these men care about you. And neither does Simon.”

  Her look remained horrified, not certain what to do. Looking at Blake she pleaded with her eyes for an answer, all he did was smile, his finger twitched on the trigger ready to shoot. My first action would be to take him out. But I didn’t think I could shoot him before he shot her.

  “Now that I’m slowly dying,” she said, looking down at her hands, the rocking of the chair ceasing. “I want to live longer and fight until my last breath. And now he wants to take that away from me.” Her hands and arms tensed up. “He can’t do that. I won’t let him.”

  With quick reflexes she grabbed the lamp on the table next to her and flung it at Blake. He was caught off guard but still fired his gun at her. She screamed as the bullet struck. I reacted, tossing George to the floor and shot Blake center mass, his gun falling to the carpet, his body lifeless. George kicked at me, whipping my feet out from under me, as I crashed into the coffee table, my Beretta flying from my hand. George made a stab for it and I lunged for his arm, trying to prevent him from grabbing it, but he got a hold of it. We were face to face, me on top of him, doing my best to keep his arm pinned. He got his legs around me and twisted me off, tossing me to the side. He staggered up with the gun and aimed, but I reached for my .38 on my ankle and fired first hitting him in the throat just as he fired. I rolled to get out of the way but felt something hot strike me in the thigh. The pain was immediate, as was the blood, but I was still alive, which wasn’t the case for George. Panting from the adrenaline and pain, I looked up and saw Chuck standing there, his gun pointed at me. He hadn’t shot me in the melee, and I wasn’t sure why.

  “Give it up, Chuck,” I said, my gun raised in defense. “It’s over. I’ve heard enough about you to know you aren’t a killer. Walk away. I’d rather not shoot you, too. Make a run for it. I won’t stop you. I have a feeling you don’t know a whole lot about what is going on. This was all Blake’s job. You were just the unknowing backup.”

  His hand was shaking, and I was afraid he was going to fire. I put my gun down, letting him know I wasn’t a threat. His other hand went to his forehead, trying to decide what to do. It seemed like forever, but eventually he lowered the gun, watching me the whole time as he exited the front door, running away.

  I clutched at my thigh and crawled over to check on Belinda, slumped down in the rocking chair. She was bleeding pretty badly from the upper chest area, the bullet appearing to be a through and through. I pulled myself up and pulled off the poncho, folding it up and pressing it against her wound behind her, while using an arm cover from the sofa to apply pressure from the front.

  “Hold on Belinda,” I said while grabbing my phone. “Help will be here soon.”

  Her eyes glared up at me, showing me a determination to fight, the same one she had before throwing the lamp, a tear running down her cheek. She nodded and mouthed “I will” as her eyes closed.

  This was not the ending I was hoping for.

  Chapter 49

  The crime scene was a madhouse. After calling 911, I called Agent Alegre to let her know what was going on. For once she took my call without having to deal with voicemail.

  “You need to get your agents to Pueblo to handle this crime scene,” I stated bluntly. “I think we have a break in the case and you need to take control.”

  “What happened?”

  I quickly explained, giving her the address. She was on speakerphone while I tended to Belinda as best as I could.

  “You gun slinging idiot! You should have called me first!” Her anger burned though the speaker.

  “No time. If I hadn’t showed up alone they would have killed her.”

  She swore several times and hung up. I gotten used to her ire, but still wasn’t pleased. I wasn’t looking forward to dealing with her antics.

  The local police and paramedics were there quickly. The dead couldn’t be helped, so they worked on Belinda. She was still alive, and before long, they got her stabilized. Another was working on my leg after helping me over to an open area on the floor, but it didn’t need much as it was mostly a flesh wound, though it may have nicked the bone as well. For now, since I wasn’t seriously hurt, I stayed put. An officer found her dog, Sparky, unharmed, locked away in one of the bedrooms sleeping. It wasn’t long before the Feds arrived on the scene and took over. The local cops w
ere pushed to the side, mostly providing crowd control.

  It was maybe forty-five minutes before Agent Alegre showed up.

  “Did you sprout wings and fly down?” I said. “That was fast.”

  “Helicopter. Landed nearby and we drove the rest of the way. How bad are you hurt?” She squatted down next to me.

  “Stings, but I’ll live.”

  “Good. Give me a chance to kill you myself.” Her anger was now burning me in person.

  “As I said on the phone, I had no choice or time. They were on their way and would have killed her if I didn’t come alone.”

  “We can charge you in all of this,” she said. “Yank your license and put you out of business.”

  I ignored her threats. “The dead one on the couch shot first, hitting Belinda when she clobbered him with the lamp. I killed him in self-defense. I struggled with the other, who got my gun, shooting me as I shot him. If I hadn’t moved he’d have probably shot me in the stomach or groin.”

  I left out the part about the third man, Chuck. I wasn’t sure why, other than I liked to leave out key items just to piss off the authorities. I figured he didn’t know much, but I could always track him down later if necessary.

  “If he’d blown off your balls that could have been a good thing. If you were emasculated maybe you’d think with your head next time.” Fury filled her voice.

  Though the statement was funny, I didn’t laugh. My leg hurt like hell and for once I’d have rather been at the hospital than here.

  “Catalina, for once, swallow your anger and let’s get to the meat of this case,” I said curtly. “Before the gunfight several things were revealed that can break this Butcher case wide open. Do you want to hear about them or continue to treat me like a criminal? Because if so I’ll be calling my lawyer as he loves to eat pain-in-the-ass FBI agents for breakfast!”

  My response didn’t seem to change her stance any.

  “Get him out of here?” she said, madder than ever. “Take him to the hospital. He is bleeding all over my crime scene.”

  “Your sympathy is touching. Don’t expect me to cooperate until you calm down.” I was feeling grumpy. “And make sure someone takes care of her dog. Maybe you can take him home and he’ll help change your disposition.”

  She stood up and waved the paramedics to take me. One helped me onto a gurney and I was wheeled out. On the ride over I was told I was being taken to Parkview Medical Center. I was still pissed, but the pain of my leg had taken over. Pain medicine was given, which helped. During treatment I had to give them all my information, including insurance. Time would tell if my rates would sky rocket. One beating, and bullet wound in the last couple of weeks. I doubted the shooter’s insurance was going to pay, since he was now dead. Once I went through the system I made my calls. The first one was to April.

  “Well at least you called me before I found out,” she said, after I explained. “Do I need to take a trip to Pueblo?”

  As much as I wanted to see a friendly face, she needed to be where she was. “No, stay with Makayla for now. Even though these guys are dead, there are still more that may come after her.”

  “What about the FBI? Sounds like they are not thrilled with you, which is never a good thing.”

  “I’ll smooth things over. If not, Barry will protect me.”

  “I thought he was tanning on a beach.”

  “He should be back in a couple of days. I’ll call his assistant to get him a message. I’m sure he will be well rested and charged up ready to take a bite out of some federal agents.”

  “And if not?” April sounded concerned.

  “Then I may be incarcerated for a while.”

  After April hung up I contacted Barry’s office and left a message with his assistant. From there I put in a call to Jonas and Doris, using the conference function on my phone.

  “I may need help from both of you,” I said. “It seems I’ve gotten myself into a mess and I’m facing the ire of Agent Alegre.”

  “She has a short fuse,” laughed Doris. “Doesn’t take much to get her mad. What happened?”

  I explained the situation.

  “Does that mean Simon was the original Butcher?” asked Jonas.

  “It would seem likely. Won’t know for certain until I get more from Belinda. If she lives. She was in bad shape, not to mention her cancer issues. If she pulls through she may be more forthcoming about giving us more info.”

  “Is she safe in the hospital?” asked Doris.

  “For now, I’d say yes. Though nothing would surprise me. Once I’m mobile I’ll check.”

  “What about your health?” asked Jonas.

  “Mostly got the meaty part of my leg. May have nicked the femur, but nothing that won’t heal quickly. That is if Catalina doesn’t come in and strangle me first.”

  “I don’t have any pull with her,” said Jonas. “Those I worked with on the original murder are not in charge now. They were more willing to cooperate with me. She, on the other hand, is a different animal all together.”

  “I have some pull, but not much,” added Doris. “She wants my insight on how the killers mind works, but not much else. And she certainly doesn’t like it when I throw out theories that don’t fit her mindset.”

  It was frustrating to hear Catalina’s stubbornness, especially when dealing with those with a long perspective on the case. Breaking through that thick wall was going to be challenging.

  “I might be on my own then. We’ll see who they send in to take my statement. If he is carrying a briefcase and wearing gloves, I might be in trouble.” My humor didn’t make me feel any better.

  I ended the call, as my head grew weary.

  Once they were done with me, mostly stitching up the wound, giving me more pain medicine and antibiotics, I was transferred to a room. Once there I fell asleep. Not sure for how long, before two men dressed in black came into the room, waking me. It was the same two I’d encountered before and had given the pet names of Curley and Moe. They started off by reading me my rights, which was never a good sign.

  “I’m under arrest then?” I shouldn’t have been surprised, yet I was.

  “Once all the evidence is in, you may be charged with the deaths of those two men and possibly the shooting of the woman.”

  None of this made any sense to me. It seemed they were grasping at straws, searching for a scapegoat and I was it. I was mad, though the pain pills were numbing my emotions.

  “I didn’t shoot her. Blake, the man on the sofa, shot her, and then I shot him.” I pleaded my case, though it fell on deaf ears, like it had with Catalina.

  “We’ll see where the evidence leads.”

  “Then for now I won’t be sharing anything more until my lawyer shows. And he is out of town, so it may be a few days.”

  “Then whenever you’re released you will be taken into custody.”

  “Swell,” I said. This was one of the few times I wasn’t in a hurry to leave the hospital.

  Chapter 50

  Word got to Barry and he came back early.

  “I’m honored,” I stated.

  “You mentioned a paying client before I left,” he replied. “I figured now was my chance to cash in on all the other times I worked free for you.”

  “Gee Barry, I’m touched!” I sneered at his love of the almighty dollar.

  Barry also couldn’t miss out on going toe to toe with the FBI. Clashing with authority figures was in his top five of life’s thrills. He and Catalina immediately hit it off. And by that I meant they were about to come to blows.

  “Charge him or let him go,” he said, as pissed as I’d ever seen him. “But your case is shit and will mean a large six figure civil lawsuit that we’ll happily collect on. Though I’m sure your superiors will settle because they will agree they are royally fucked when we put this in front of a jury.”

  “Don’t you dare talk that way to me,” responded Catalina, waving her finger at him. “We’ll dig deep into your past and find
something you won’t want to come to light and make your life a living hell.”

  “Be my guest. I’m an open book. While you dig into mine, I’ll dig into yours. It will give me more ammo for our suit.”

  Barry was never one to back down. He had plenty of moxie and feared no one. He stood there with his arms crossed, waiting for an answer. Catalina was red-faced but finally gave in and I was released. Barry drove me to the impound to get my car back. The Feds released it at no cost, the towing and storage charge they would absorb. They also paid to have it delivered to Denver, as I couldn’t drive yet.

  On the way home, Barry was a chatterbox, talking up a storm about his vacation and his conquests.

  “I hope you brought along enough condoms,” I joked. “Hate to think there will be a bunch of little Barry’s running around the Caymans in nine months.”

  "No worries there. I had plenty, including one to spare for the flight home in case I sat next to some hottie in first class.” He smirked.

  “And?”

  “Let me say I wished I had two!”

  All I could do was laugh. Like most lawyers, half of what he said was likely bullshit. But no matter. Barry looked tanned and happy to be back at work. He couldn’t stay away from the legal battles and litigation for too long.

  We were cruising along in his new black Mercedes sedan on I25 nearing Denver when I finally got around to letting him know about my other legal issue.

  “Rape and child porn charges,” he said, tutting. “You have been busy while I’ve been away. Nice of you to create work for me to help pay for my vacation.”

  “Melissa has handled it well,” I replied. “Hopefully the charges will be dropped soon, and you won’t need to bill me on that legal issue.”

  “What is she charging you, a roll in the hay?” he said while laughing.

  “Classy. Same old Barry we know and love. She was helping a friend.”

  “Maybe. Still, you must wonder why she still hangs around. Meeting for lunches, recommending you for a job, with her dad of all people, and now helping you when you were accused of rape. I’d say that woman still has feelings for you.”