The Front Range Butcher

by R Weir

More groans came across the airwaves. “I’ve stopped taking her calls. Letting them go to voicemail. Good thing this is a burner phone I can dump when this is over.”

  “Nothing yet on them showing?” I asked, getting back to the business at hand.

  “No. And I told you two days at most I can give you. And this is day two.”

  “You can go back to surveil your mark. As long as I can get you to come with me, if we get the word.”

  “And what is your plan when she calls?”

  “We drive over and pay them a visit. I figure at the least we can shake them up some and get them to make a mistake.”

  “It better be soon,” he stated, before hanging up.

  Fortunately, they showed up the next evening, so we drove over in my Mustang. It was close to dark, but they were still there, as was Serenity. I thought she was going to drop her tray when she saw Rocky, but to my disappointment, she got it together before making a mess of things. The bouncer looked up from his magazine and acknowledged us as if we were old friends when we walked in, before going back to reading. The three men were playing pool on the other side of the room, enjoying a few libations. I was feeling much better, with much of my stiffness gone, bruises starting to fade, ready for whatever came my way.

  We walked over to the table, and I placed a five-dollar bill down to claim the next game. All three of them looked up. The one who appeared to be the leader of the group and the smoker was the first to recognize me. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, letting a long stream of smoke float into the ceiling fan above. Must have been a calming mechanism for him, for there was no look of fear in his eyes.

  “Jarvis Mann has come to pay us a visit, boys,” he said calmly.

  With my name, the other two tensed up, now understanding who I was. Both were wearing short-sleeved shirts and no jackets, with nowhere to conceal a gun, unless it was in an ankle holster. Rocky had moved away from me and to the other side of the table, facing the other two. On noticing him, they were nervous and had a right to be, as his presence was intimidating.

  “Nice of you to remember,” I said.

  “Hard to forget someone who got their ass kicked.” He grinned, the smoke trailing out his lips.

  “Blindsided, three on one. Hardly a fair fight.”

  “Still have you three to two. I’d say the odds are on our side.” He smiled an uncertain smile, glancing across at Rocky, who stood with his arms folded, observing quietly.

  “I’d disagree. But being a gentleman, I’ll give you a chance to talk first, before we prove otherwise.”

  “Talk about what?”

  “Who hired you to kick me around?” I got straight to the point.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just witnessed your beating. I didn’t have anything to do with it.” He flicked some ash on the floor, not a care in the world showing.

  “Really.” I pulled a plastic bottle of Scope mouthwash out of my coat pocket and tossed it to him. The other two flinched, but he snagged it out of the air with his free hand. “From the conversation we had before you finished me off—your breath still stinks.”

  He laughed while placing the bottle on the pool table, then took another long drag on his cancer stick. It was hard to believe at one time something as dirty and lethal as smoking was considered cool.

  “Sorry, I don’t recall any conversation. You must have mistaken me for someone else. Care to play a game, friend?”

  I walked over to his side of the table and pulled a pool stick off the wall, finding one to my liking, sizing it up and taking a couple of practice shots with it. With no reason to suspect anything, he casually finished his cigarette, crushing the remains on the floor. Using the distraction, I whirled and cracked him over the back with my cue, breaking it in half, while dropping him to his knees. The other two reacted, but Rocky put them both down in a flash of fists they never saw coming. The bouncer got to his feet with a bat in his hands. I waved for him to relax, as the fight was over.

  “I believe you warned me the last time we talked,” I said, while kneeling next to the man on the floor so he could hear the threat in my voice. “Go back to whoever hired you and tell them that Jarvis Mann doesn’t walk away. If there is some type of trouble between us they’d like to discuss, they can come to me and talk face to face. I’m a reasonable man. Maybe we can work something out. But sending thugs to try and scare me doesn’t do anything but get my dander up. Do you think you can pass this message along?”

  He was seeing stars, as were his two friends, but I think he got the word. We walked away, wary of anyone trying to backstab us, and I handed Serenity a fifty-dollar bill. I was certain I could hear her panting.

  “For your trouble, and to cover any damages, ma’am.”

  Passing the bouncer, our arms up in surrender, we headed outside to my car and waited. We knew what Chuck’s car looked like and I wanted to get him alone, away from the others. I imagined their leader would be making a call soon, letting his bosses know I wasn’t going away. This could up the threat against me, but I didn’t care. I needed action on their part, hopefully them doing something stupid. Now it was the waiting game, which Rocky knew, as he put the seat back and closed his eyes.

  “My adrenaline is pumping, and you’re sleeping,” I observed. “Shows we are wired differently.”

  “Case is personal to you, while it isn’t for me. The opposite is true of my case.”

  It seemed a fair statement. I waited and watched, letting the time pass. It was nearly an hour when we saw the smoking man and the other leave on their own. About twenty minutes later Chuck stepped out and was in his car. I got the Mustang running and was right behind him.

  It appeared he was heading home, so I didn’t have much time.

  Just before arriving at his house, I raced in and pulled ahead to cut him off. Rocky jumped out and went to the driver’s side door, his big gun in hand, pointing it. Chuck got the message and turned off his car. Soon he was in the backseat of the Mustang, with Rocky watching him, his massive Glock aimed. We took a drive to Red Rocks Park. There was one car there, a pair of teens smooching and groping each other, otherwise we had the place to ourselves, far enough away that they couldn’t hear us. Rocky dragged Chuck, as he didn’t want to go, flinging him to the ground. Even in the darkness you could see his fear manifest itself and the welt on his face where Rocky had hit him.

  “Don’t kill me,” he spluttered pathetically.

  “Talk.” It was all I said.

  “I don’t know anything. Honest!”

  Rocky waved his gun.

  “Please!”

  “Do you understand what a bullet from a Glock will do to you? Even if he only shoots you in the leg, it goes in small and comes out the back big, destroying all in between. You might be able to walk again. You might lose your leg. Not sure you want to gamble on either possibility. Now talk!” I warned him in a low growl.

  “What do you want to know? Honestly I don’t know who hired Blake.”

  “That is progress. Is Blake the smoking man I clubbed?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Is he the one calling the shots in your group?”

  He nodded nervously.

  “Who does he work for?”

  “I told you I don’t know who hired him.”

  “No, I mean where does he work? His day job. I was told he worked for someone powerful.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t tell you. They might hurt me for talking.”

  Rocky stepped closer and tensed up as if he was going to shoot.

  “Wait, wait!” he yelled. “Don’t shoot. I’ll talk. He works in security for a company named Liquid Investors.”

  “Shit,” was all I said.

  Chapter 37

  After concluding our business with Chuck and learning all we could, we left him there to fend for himself. He was not happy about this, but I didn’t really care. My biggest concern was why Liquid Investors was involved. We had crossed paths during
the Mission of the Invisible Souls case, and I had backed them in a corner, to help my homeless clients. They had been slow paying off their debt as we agreed, but last I’d heard they were close to fulfilling their obligation. Now I was stumbling into them again, and not in a way that brightened my day. I would have to tread lightly, as they had some powerful resources at their disposal. And now that I’d knocked down a peg or two, the team they had sent, they might recruit their A-team, led by Wolfe, who was as good as they get if the rumors were true.

  By the time I dropped Rocky off and got home, it was nearly midnight. I collapsed on the sofa, making sure the front door was secure and my gun was within reach. I nodded off for a fleeting moment before knocking hauled me back out again. Dragging myself out of the cushions, I grabbed my gun and checked the peephole. The outside light made for a clear view of who was there. When I saw the face, I cursed to myself, wondering why now and not wanting to answer the door. There were more knocks and the familiar voice whined, “Jarvis, please open up. I know you’re in there.” Sighing I gave in and unlocked the door. Milani sauntered in looking upset.

  “Sorry to bother you,” she said. “Thanks for letting me in. I was hoping we could talk.”

  I glared at her. “I really shouldn’t after what happened the last time.”

  She ignored what I said. “I’m really scared. Please, can we sit down and figure this out. I could use something to drink. Do you have a beer?”

  Her hands were shaking and her eyes were moist. I looked at her long and hard but couldn’t decide if it was real or an act. Exhaustion hit me, leaving me too tired to argue. I wanted to go to sleep and not have to worry about any of the troubles going on around me. Too much was happening, and I was feeling overwhelmed. I found a beer in the nearly empty fridge and proffered it to her, she grabbed it as I motioned her to the living area. She sat down in my chair, while I took the sofa, placing the gun on the coffee table.

  “What is going on?” I asked with a sigh.

  She looked down, not saying anything, taking a long drink of the beer. She was wearing a long coat that went all the way to her knees. I didn’t think much of it at first, but, even though it was cool tonight, the attire seemed like it would be warm. I began to feel uncomfortable, and then after a minute or so, she stood up, walked towards me and opened the coat. She had nothing on underneath, her body completely bare, curved and smooth, without a sign of hair anywhere. Beer still in hand, she poured some on her naked skin and then the rest on me. She then pushed me back and jumped on my lap wrapping her legs around my waist, her strength surprising for someone her size.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, shocked by her actions, and exhaustion preventing me from reacting straight away.

  She was clawing at me with her sharp fingernails, tearing my wet shirt open and scratching my skin, to the point I was bleeding. Her mouth lunged for my neck, her tongue licking and sucking, teeth leaving more marks. I tried to push her away, hoping to be gentle, but she hung onto me for dear life, not wanting to let go. I felt pain, anger and a sense of violation, for being forced to do something I didn’t want to do.

  “I want you so badly,” she panted into my ear, her mouth now on mine, one of her hands now reaching down to my crotch, trying to grab me. “Please oh please, fuck me.” Her voice sounded savage and fierce.

  “Stop!” I said, though I could barely get the words out, with her mouth planted on mine.

  I grew tired of being gentle, and with all my strength, I got to my feet, with her still clamped to me, pried her loose and tossed her on the sofa, and I stepped back.

  “Yes, oh yes,” she moaned. “I like it rough. Do to me what you will. Ravage me. Fuck me like a slut!”

  I couldn’t believe my ears or comprehend what exactly was happening. But I was through with her.

  “Get out of my place!” I yelled. “I’ve had enough of this from you. Come here again and I’ll have you arrested.”

  Her eyes seethed with anger. I grabbed my gun, to make sure she didn’t have thoughts of shooting me and held it at my side as a warning. She flounced over and got her coat back on and headed for the door, storming off in a huff, leaving it wide open. I closed and locked it, now overwhelmed by the day’s events. I made my way to the bedroom, stripped off my wet clothes, cleaned my wounds and crashed, exhaustion dragging me down.

  The night seemed short, sleep instant but not complete or restful. I’m not sure of the time, but it was still dark when I heard more pounding. With a growl of frustration, I grabbed some boxers and a shirt, found my gun and headed to the door. My first thought, was if it was Milani again, I might have to shoot her. Then I heard yelling outside, saying it was the police and to open up. I frowned. Looking out the peephole I saw a female detective and what looked like two uniforms. All I could think was, “What the hell now.”

  “Badge please, so I can see it,” I demanded.

  In hand she held it, appearing to be real. I opened the door and she stormed in, slapping a paper on my chest.

  “Jarvis Mann? We have a warrant to arrest you and search the place,” she said. “And you better hand me your gun or these two young men might shoot you.”

  The two uniforms both had their guns out, pointing. I held up my hands, with gun dangling from my finger, where she grabbed it. They had me turn and face the wall.

  “What the hell is going on?” I asked, confused and still half asleep.

  “Stay right there. We had a complaint filed against you.”

  “For what?”

  She looked at me. “Rape.”

  I turned my head, a stunned look on my face as Milani’s actions began to make sense. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “No way buddy, we have the papers right here. And of a minor too.”

  “Minor?” I groaned.

  “Did I stutter? Yes minor. You know, underage. Not an adult,” she said coldly.

  “Let me guess, her name is Milani?” I said bitterly.

  “She is a minor, so we can’t reveal the name. But we have her statement and she was tested at the hospital.”

  “What the hell do you mean a minor? That is utter bullshit! She is twenty-two.” With each statement she made I was more stunned.

  She stepped around and got in my face. “That is what they all say.”

  Staring in her eyes, you could see she wasn’t joking. Despite my working with police on a regular basis, I didn’t know her personally, at least by name. I’d seen her around before, heard about her, but never had come in contact. She worked in the Sex Crimes division and if reputation meant anything, she would be tough to convince for she had a solid conviction rate.

  “Says you invited her over, offered her some beer which she drank. You got liquored up and attacked her, pushing her down and raping her. She tried to fight you off and scratched you. Still had DNA of her attacker on her. In time we’ll know for certain, but I can see through your shirt you have some marks.”

  I looked down and remembered her clawing at me. My stomach twisted. It didn’t look good.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Marks on your neck too. She said there’d be some showing as well where she tried to bite you.”

  I ran my hand through my hair, both of those were true and caused by her. Still there had been no penetration. The hospital tests would prove it wasn’t me. Could her boyfriend have attacked her, and she was blaming it on me?

  “She had a boyfriend who was threatening her. You should be looking for him.”

  “She claims it was you.”

  “She is lying. I need to call my lawyer,” I said.

  “In time. When we get to the station.”

  I was cuffed and sat on a chair. They searched my place finding something in the couch cushions. I didn’t see what it was, but figured it wasn’t good when they bagged it, along with the beer bottle, and my bloody beer covered clothing. After an hour, they got me some pants and took me to the station for booking. It hadn’t been the best twenty-four hours of my life and it d
idn’t seem there was a light at the end of it all.

  Once I was processed, they allowed me the call. Since Barry was in the Caymans, I wasn’t sure who to use. I didn’t want a court appointed one and thought over my options. I checked the time and it was still early morning, but at least light, where most people were getting up and out of bed, preparing for the day. Remembering the number, I made the call.

  “Hello,” said the soft voice I remembered, but hadn’t heard in a while.

  “It’s Jarvis. I’ve been arrested and need your help.”

  There were many reasons for her to say no, but still I hoped for the best. My heart raced faster waiting for the response.

  Chapter 38

  I was waiting in the holding cell when they pulled me into a room, uncuffing me. There, sitting at the table, was Melissa. My pulse increased, my skin getting a little sweaty. It was a good thing I wasn’t being given a polygraph. She looked good dressed in her traditional professional business attire, dark jacket over coral blouse and ebony skirt. Her hair was brown, straight and reaching her shoulders. She had on her reading glasses, as she read over the arrest report, still not once looking up at me. I’d always loved staring into those eyes, but this was not a romantic setting and thoughts of us ever being a couple again had long ago gone out the window. We were friends, yet still the feelings often resurfaced when I saw her.

  “Sorry I had to call you,” I said apologetically and quietly. “Barry is out of the country and I didn’t know who else to contact.”

  She put down the paper and took off her glasses. Her look was serious, with concern over what she was reading.

  “Are you doing ok?” she asked.

  “Peachy. But I’ve been treated properly.”

  “Reading this over, it sounds serious. I need you to come clean with me on what happened. I’m here with an open mind. But you have been down this road before, though not accused of a crime.”

  In the past, I had become involved sexually with a client. It was in a manner that compromised my relationship with Melissa as it was starting. I had taken the high road this time and refused to allow my primal urges to rule me. If that had been true in the past, who knows where she and I would be at right now.