The Front Range Butcher

by R Weir

  “I have no idea. If he did, I had no part of it. For all I know it could have been someone else. Those two were running a con on me. Who is to say they weren’t running it elsewhere and it went south.”

  He sighed. “I’ll give you a pass on this Jarvis, after what you’ve been through. But know this, the Chinese government is not happy and screaming for blood. This woman, whose husband is now dead, has a lot of clout. She is likely to be looking your way. And she won’t be so subtle this time. If you learn anything else, you better call me. I can only help if you ask for it.”

  Another enemy knocking at my gates didn’t thrill me. But I knew now I had other things to worry about.

  “I understand. Any word on the girl, Milani, if that is her name?”

  “Nothing. No body has turned up. I would assume she is alive, but you never know. Are you going to look for her?”

  “I doubt it. I have bigger, personal issues to deal with. I can’t save everyone.”

  “I know it will do no good, but try to stay out of trouble, at least until the holidays are over.” For one of the rare times, Dezmond sounded concerned for me.

  “No guarantees.” It was all I could say.

  I returned the phone to Catalina, thanking her, letting her know I’d call when Melissa was ready to make a statement. At least for now I didn’t care about the Chinese, and what they might do, until they made a run at me. I no longer had to worry about the two that were harassing me, but I didn’t like being in the middle of this mess and planned to stay as far away as possible.

  I got my walk in enjoying the cool night air, the days getting shorter, fall feeling like fall should. When I got back to the room, Melissa was still out cold, her parents asleep in a second bed the hospital had wheeled in to help with our extended stay. She was a strong lady, but this trauma was extreme, and she would likely need professional help to get her through it. Hell, I was thinking I would need some as well, the physiological damage Simon did to me lingering like a cloud over me. Even if I often despised the medical profession, I knew when you found the right help, it could make a difference.

  I went back to my seat, leaning back, closing my eyes. The machine sounds filling my ears, a rhythm hard to tune out. One of the tones changed and she started to stir and I snapped my eyes open. I straightened up in my seat, thrilled to see movement. Her eyes opened, uncertain where she was, a little panicked until they met mine. She reached out a hand and grabbed my fingers, giving a firm squeeze, her eyes closing again.

  “Don’t leave,” she mouthed.

  “I will always be here for you,” I said, holding her hand for as long as she needed me.

  Chapter 78

  The door opened to the bathroom and Simon wheeled himself out to find Wolfe standing in the middle of his room. He was startled at first, not sure why the large well-dressed black man was there, and not completely certain who he was, for they had never met. Connections in the business and political world had led him to the assassin. In the past he’d hear descriptions, read the resume, and made his own conclusion of who the man was.

  Finding his way to the bed, Simon used his strong arms to pull himself onto the mattress, his hands to yank his nearly lifeless legs up and out before him. He grabbed the book he was reading, A Clockwork Orange, opening it up to the page where he left off.

  “I wondered if we’d ever meet,” said Simon, calmly. “I expected if we did, it wouldn’t be good news, since communication always happens through my lawyer.”

  “I don’t like being used,” said Wolfe.

  “Should I care? Were you paid well? If so, then why would it matter?”

  “Integrity.”

  Simon laughed. “You’re hired help, not paid to think. Hurting your feelings is not something I lose sleep over.”

  “I figured as much. From what I’ve learned about you, integrity is not in your vocabulary.”

  “Integrity is for fools and idiots. I guess I need to find my killers elsewhere. You won’t ever work for me again.”

  “You’re right about that. I wouldn’t work for you no matter the pay.”

  “Leave me alone, boy. And don’t come back.”

  It was Wolfe’s turn to laugh. “A ‘boy’ wouldn’t do what I’m about to do to you.”

  Simon looked up from his dystopian novel and saw the gun. He dropped the book, it falling to the floor, and started to reach for the call button. The first bullet hit him in the chest, killing him, a precise shot by a professional. The second one between the eyes, to make certain of it. Wolfe removed the silencer, putting it in one pocket and the gun in the other. His gloved hands grabbed the door knob, walking out calmly, like any other normal visitor. The terror of the original ‘Front Range Butcher’ now at an end.

  Chapter 79

  It was early morning in the Table Mesa area of Boulder. Still dark, the light only just beginning to rise over the eastern horizon. I stood tall in my nice leather jacket, gloves and stocking cap, staying warm in the thirty-degree temps. An expensive maroon European car pulled in and parked, the make and model I didn’t care about. The driver was all that mattered, as she stepped out, wrapped in a long black jacket, with a fur cap covering her head. Her boots clicked on the pavement as she walked towards the entrance, steam rising from a Starbucks cup in her hand. When Christina Bowles saw me, her early morning scowl turned to a growl. She stopped for a minute unsure what to do.

  “I have no time for you,” she said with a scorn that wasn’t surprising.

  “You will make time. We can talk now or later down at FBI headquarters. It doesn’t matter to me.”

  “You’re a lowly PI. Are you saying you got promoted to the FBI?” she said scornfully.

  “No. But they’re coming to get you.”

  “Really. What for?”

  “Your involvement in ‘The Front Range Butcher’ case.” I pointed my finger right at her with my words.

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Not at all. You used your brother, manipulated him, like you had since you were siblings, to get him to kill Makayla Landry.”

  “This is insane. I’m going to call my lawyer.”

  She dug around in her purse until she had her iPhone in hand, but I snatched it away from her before she could dial.

  “Give that back to me!” she screeched.

  “No. You’re going to hear me out first. Then you can call your lawyers, because you will need them after the feds arrive.”

  She tried to walk into the building, but I blocked her path. When it looked like she was going to throw her coffee at me, I knocked it out of her hand. Her face turned bright red, an anger like what I’d seen from her brother.

  “How dare you! I’ll sue you for everything you’ve got.”

  “You were about to assault me with that hot coffee. I think I saved you from a lawsuit. Now shut up and listen, because I only have a few minutes before the FBI show up and haul your ass away.”

  Crossing her arms, she looked around, the red on her face turning to what appeared to be fear.

  “Christina, we have testimony that you asked Simon to have his protégé, Simon junior, the second incarnation of The Front Range Butcher, snatch Makayla and have her carved up. All because you thought she was having an affair with your husband, the Senator.”

  “Preposterous! I’ve never even heard of this woman.” She feigned innocence, looking away and waving me off.

  “Sure, you have. You know all about her. Might have even been obsessed with her. The truth is she and Windsor weren’t having an affair. We talked with Makayla, and yes, she worked for your husband on his last campaign, spending long hours, some even alone with him plotting out strategy. But she didn’t in the slightest have any physical attraction to him. Only professional. He may have tried, but she wasn’t interested and had the decency to respect that he was married. You marked her for death for no reason.”

  A horrified surprise filled her face. “That isn’t true. He told me…” she said before
stopping, realizing what she was admitting to.

  “Surprise, surprise. A politician not telling the truth. Maybe he was trying to make you jealous. Get you to show him some attention. Hard to say. My question is, are there any other of The Front Range Butchers victims you asked Simon to handle for one reason or another? The FBI are digging into the original killings and it seems one or two had some connection to you. One a female rival from college that you knew, and those interviewed said hated. Even one of the male victims, it would appear, had a relationship with you while you were married. Apparently, you didn’t take your vows seriously either. Maybe he was about to expose you, while your husband was beginning his rise in politics. Couldn’t have that spoil the ride to the top. The FBI will dig deep and who knows how long you’ll end up in prison for their deaths.”

  A couple of females in scrubs walked past us, saying hello to Christina. She didn’t answer.

  “Is everything alright?” asked one of the ladies. “Is this man bothering you?”

  “Ladies, Christina will have to cancel all of her appointments today. Seems she is going to be tied up with something that may put her out of work for a long time.”

  Handing her back her iPhone, I walked away whistling as several SUV’s pulled up, with lights flashing, along with Boulder police. They jumped out of the car and grabbed Christina, reading the Miranda rights, cuffing her to the horror of her co-workers. Her head slumped, the defiance for now stripped from her, as they drove her away to face the wrath of one tough FBI agent, Catalina Alegre, working on breaking her down, another feather in her promotion cap.

  Chapter 80

  It was Thanksgiving and I was working at the Mission of the Invisible Souls. The marvelous smells of food filling the room, as I dished out potatoes and gravy to the throngs of needy people coming in for a satisfying meal and some camaraderie. Parker, who had pulled himself off the streets, and was now a worker here helping, was standing on one side filling plates with turkey. On the other was April, smiling her beautiful smile, doing her part with scoops of cranberries and hot rolls, not only because of me, but because it was the right thing to do for the community. Sam, the Pastor who ran the mission, was greeting people at the door, as they shook off the snow that was falling, her face smiling, encouraging them to take advantage of their services. A cold, wet night was ahead, and they wouldn’t turn away anyone living on the streets in need.

  I was finally free of The Butcher case, the wheels of justice moving on without me. Jonas and I called all the families of the victims, past and present letting them know the murderers had been caught. Simon junior, once through the court system, would be put away for life, and possibly sentenced to death, while Senior had faced justice differently and decisively. It wouldn’t bring their loved ones back, but there was some relief the ordeal was finally over, for good.

  Darren Woodley had been released, getting back in time to see his mother, learning finally and painfully, who his real father was, though happy he had been shielded from his insanity. With some peace, Belinda passed away two days later, knowing some good had finally come from her life, releasing a burden that had haunted her for too long. Doris, Jonas and I went to the funeral, paying our respects, the crowd of friends small, but all speaking of what a wonderful woman she was. None knew what she had been through, the path taken, rising above the horror, leaving a legacy of a son, who was a decent man.

  Jonas published several articles, many of them headlines for major magazines and newspapers. Talk of a Pulitzer was in the air, the goal all journalists strived for. Mostly he was happy the killer had been caught after nearly twenty-three years of pursuit and that his family was safe. He was proud of himself, and even proud of the work I did, though not to the point of forgiving me for my past transgressions with Melissa. But he knew I would always be there for her.

  For Melissa, time was what she needed. She wasn’t working, and had started talking with a female psychologist, facing her pain. Her physical wounds were healed, the graphing of the skin, though scarred, was doing well. Bristol & Bristol told her to take all the days she needed, a job waiting for her as a lawyer, which she had been striving towards for many years. Progress was being made, but it would take many hours to overcome. We lunched together once a week, bonding more so than we did when dating. It felt good when we were together, love and closeness without passion, good for both of us. A friendship built on understanding, that we both wanted above all else.

  As I stood dishing out food, smiling at my thoughts, Sam waved for me to come over, a familiar, tall black man standing next to her. Wolfe’s black coat was covered in snow, along with his stubbly head. Walking over, I didn’t offer a hand, as I figured he wouldn’t take it out of pride, we were rivals in many ways. Assuming he wasn’t here to take me down in front of so many witnesses, we walked to a quiet area to talk.

  “I’m guessing you aren’t here to eat?” I said.

  “No. I’m sure the food is good. I’m glad these people are getting something nourishing on the holiday. No one should be alone this time of year.”

  “Are you alone for the holidays?” I said, uncertain why I asked.

  “No. I have a beautiful woman to keep me company, as I’m sure you do.”

  Looking over at April, I nodded my head. She was everything a man could need or want. Yet I always seemed to want more.

  “I came to tell you, I’m leaving town and won’t be back,” said Wolfe. “I believe we are square. You will have no issues with me, at least for now.”

  “Good to hear. Is this my Christmas present?”

  He almost cracked a smile. “Consider it a courtesy between two professionals.”

  “Fair enough. I’m assuming that was your handy work at EverCare. An extremely accurate kill by an expert. No evidence found at the scene. No one remembers even seeing you. Hard to imagine someone like you not being noticed.”

  “They couldn’t have seen me, because I was never there.” His face was unreadable.

  “A ghost then.”

  This time he did smile. “Ghosts are white. I’m not!”

  I had to smile too. I knew he was the one who killed Simon. But I didn’t really care. The man had caused enough pain for a lifetime. He now had his chance to mentor the devil himself. I’m sure he has a thing or two to teach the reaper.

  Wolfe walked back towards Sam and pulled out an envelope to give her. She opened it up, surprise on her face. It was cash. Counting it, she found ten one-hundred-dollar bills.

  “Oh my. What is this?”

  “A donation to the Mission. You do excellent work. I hope it continues.”

  “Thank you so much, sir. Do you need a receipt for this?”

  He smiled. “No. It’s not money that I want tracked. Tax free so to speak.”

  Sam looked at me. “I’ll explain later,” I said.

  “I hope the next time I’m in town, we can have dinner,” said Wolfe to Sam. “You were most beautiful in that gown at the fundraiser. I’d love to talk to you more about your life.”

  She smiled a genuine smile that lit up her face. “Call and we’ll see. If you want, you can stay for lunch. We have plenty.”

  “Regrettably I cannot. As I told Jarvis, I must leave town on business. The life of a professional.”

  “I guess Jarvis will have to explain that as well. A shame, but I understand. You know where to find me.”

  He nodded his head and walked out. I followed him, with one last burning question on my mind.

  “If I’d not given you the information about Simon and his lying to you, would the tables have turned? Would I have been the one with two bullet holes in me, lying dead somewhere?”

  He reached his car and opened the door, turning to look at me.

  “Most definitely,” he said, his face deadly serious, before climbing in and driving away in the snow.

  Who was I to argue? I wandered back inside, thankful to be breathing, enjoying the sweet smell of turkey for one more year.

  T
hanks for reading The Front Range Butcher. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. I would love if you would leave a review on Amazon and Goodreads to help an Indie Author.

  Please check out the rest of the Jarvis Mann Detective series:

  Enjoy the short story The Case of the Missing Bubble Gum Card, where Jarvis Mann helps a young man find a valuable missing Ernie Banks trading card. Now PERMAFREE on Amazon:

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00JGEZNSU

  Tracking A Shadow where Jarvis Mann is hired to track down the stalker of his sultry female client and is pulled into a web of lies and deceit.

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MQHVKJA

  Twice As Fatal where he works two cases that draw him into a seedy underworld, complicating his professional and personal life.

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00XTNTHWW

  Blood Brothers, where Jarvis is summoned back to his hometown of Des Moines, Iowa, to help his brother out of a life-threatening situation.

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B019S6AQXW

  Dead Man Code, as Jarvis digs into a murder case of a computer software engineer and soon is confronted by Russian Mobsters and Chinese government goons, as all try to stop him from uncovering a crooked tech company.

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01LY8JZND

  The Case of the Invisible Souls, where he helps a homeless man find out why many of his brethren in the homeless community are disappearing, never to be seen again.

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071SJPFTZ

  Jarvis will return in Mann in the Crossfire. Jarvis get caught between two warring factions, with deadly results.

  If you want to reach out, please email me at:

  rweir720@gmail.com

  Sign up for my newsletter on http://rweir.net and get information about me and my books. I will give you a free eBook of my first novel Tracking A Shadow. Have other fans of the mystery/PI genre, be sure to share this link with them.