Caliber Detective Agency Box Set 2

by Remington Kane

  Pachaw, Texas

  Trace Pruitt made a right off an old county road and drove down a dirt track. The night sky was filled with a thousand more stars than the skies of New York, and Pruitt marveled at the sight.

  After rounding a curve, he came upon Peter Gates’ trailer, which sat up on concrete blocks. Before he’d even left the car, Gates had opened the trailer door to see who had come to call, as he stepped out onto the stairs.

  “Pruitt? What the hell are you doing here?”

  “For one thing, I’ve come to warn you.”

  “Warn him about what?” Emmy said, as she stepped around Peter to take in Pruitt.

  Pruitt gazed back at her and saw the glint of approval in her eyes, the glint was in his eyes as well, as Emmy Gates was a young, good looking woman. For Pruitt, that was like raw meat to a dog.

  Pruitt smiled ay Emmy.

  “Who are you?”

  “She’s my wife, Pruitt, so stick your eyes back in your head and say what you came here to say.”

  “Velma Parker is in Texas; she’s coming to see you.”

  “She’s here?” Emmy said, and both men stared at her.

  “How do you know about Velma?” Gates asked.

  Emmy shouted up into his face.

  “Because I saw those pictures of you with her on your phone, that’s how, stupid.”

  “Now, Emmy, I can explain, see, me and Velma, well, we’re old friends and—”

  Emmy slapped him, ducked back into the trailer, and came out again with a set of keys jingling in her hand.

  Gates rubbed his cheek as he called to her.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To stay with my mama, and I won’t be back.”

  “You’ll be back, as soon as I find the—well, you know, as soon as I find that, you’ll come crawling back.”

  “Screw you, Peter!”

  Emmy took off in a hurry, and Pruitt winced when she nearly scraped the side of his rental.

  “Shit, Pruitt, did you have to mention Velma in front of my wife?”

  “You said that you were going to find something, and that means that you’re looking for something, now, just what would that something be, Gates?”

  Gates stared down at him.

  “Never mind, it was just talk, and speaking of talk, if Velma came all this way to see me, well then, I think I’ll talk to her. I’m sure she’d like to know all about you, Pruitt, you and your secret client.”

  “That wouldn’t be smart, Gates, what if the client is up to something illegal? It wouldn’t help either of us to admit to being involved.”

  Gates thought about that for a moment, and then nodded.

  “Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point there.”

  “Listen, I gotta get out of here, Velma Parker and I came in on the same plane and she would recognize me if she saw me.”

  Gates looked over at the road as if he expected Velma to appear at any second.

  “You think she’s coming tonight?”

  “Tonight, or early tomorrow, but she’s coming, so be ready and keep quiet.”

  Pruitt got back in his car. The window was down, and Gates called a question to him.

  “You didn’t come to Texas because of Velma, so why are you really here?”

  Pruitt grinned.

  “I’m looking for something too, Gates, and I’m not leaving without it.”

  Gates watched Pruitt drive away, as a worried frown covered his face.

  ***

  New York City

  Chris raised his hand to knock on an apartment door, but then dropped it to his side.

  This is the last damn place I should be.

  He turned away, then stopped, walked back, and knocked.

  I’m just going to talk to her, just talk.

  The peephole darkened, and a moment later, Rayne Carver opened her apartment door.

  “Hello, Chris, I’m so happy to see you.”

  Rayne was dressed in a red negligee that was covered by a matching gossamer silk robe. Beneath the fabric, Chris could see her breasts.

  “I need to talk to you, just talk, Rayne, and I want you to tell me the truth.”

  Rayne took him by the hand and he drifted inside.

  “I’ve never lied to you, Chris, and I never will. It’s one of the ways that Velma and I differ.”

  “Peter Gates, does that name mean anything to you?”

  “Yes, I looked into Velma’s past and came up with Peter Gates. I then hired a P.I. named Trace Pruitt to entice Gates to New York to confront Velma in front of you, but of course, it all took place in Atlantic City.”

  Chris appeared taken aback by her honesty, and then he went over to the sofa to sit. Rayne followed him, but stood before him instead of sitting.

  “You went through a lot of trouble, and I assume, expense, but why? Did you want me that much?”

  Rayne reached out a hand and caressed his face.

  “I love you, Chris and I don’t care who knows it. Velma isn’t right for you. She likes to keep secrets and I know you hate that.”

  “You have no secrets?”

  “Nothing that I would hold back from you, and now let me ask you a question; did Velma really go to visit family, or to try to track down Gates?”

  Chris nodded.

  “She’s looking for Gates.”

  “She told you that, or did she lie about it first?”

  “I don’t want to talk to you about Velma. I love Velma, and last night, what happened between us, that was a huge mistake.”

  Rayne lowered herself to her knees between Chris’s legs.

  “I love you, Chris. I think you could love me too, just give us a chance.”

  She raised her head slightly and kissed him.

  When their lips parted, Chris said, “No,” but made no effort to move.

  Rayne slipped off the robe and the fabric beneath it did absolutely nothing to hide her body. When she felt Chris touch her, she moaned.

  “I can’t do this again,” Chris whispered, even as his hand stroked Rayne’s flesh.

  “You want me,” Rayne said, and the truth of those words numbed Chris’s mind while energizing his body, and when Rayne’s hands went to his zipper, all resolve was lost.

  CHAPTER 10

  Early Saturday morning in the town of Pachaw, Texas, found Velma calling on her ex-husband, Peter Gates.

  Gates had been expecting her after Pruitt’s visit, and had purposely come to the door of the trailer dressed only in a pair of tight briefs, as he hoped to woo Velma into his bed.

  He opened the door, smiled at her, and Velma frowned in return, as she pushed by him.

  “Put some pants on.”

  “And hello to you too, Vel. Can I take it by your presence here that you want me back in your life, and your bed?”

  “All I want is the truth. Who sent you after me in Atlantic City?”

  “Baby, like I told you before, I was just there gambling.”

  “Liar! I know that someone paid you to go there, and damn it, Peter, I am not leaving here until I get a name.”

  Peter leaned forward to kiss her, and Velma punched him in the stomach.

  “I’m not playing games, and I’m sure as hell not the same stupid girl that once took your crap. Now you give me a name or so help me I will hurt you.”

  Gates stood holding his stomach, as he looked at her with genuine offense in his eyes.

  “You hit me. Hell, Vel, I never hit you—until now.”

  Gates threw an open-handed slap that was so loud it sounded like a shot. Velma’s knees buckled, and a moment later, Gates was on top of her.

  ***

  Emmy stepped inside the Roadhouse Bar & Grill and blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the dim light.

  “Hey lady, you Emmy?”

  Emmy nodded at the voice that asked the question, because she was still unable to see well after coming inside the murky bar from the bright light of morning.

  When her eyes finally cleared
, she saw an old man with a long gray beard stacking bottles behind the bar.

  “I’m Emmy, is Roxana here?”

  “I’m right here, honey.”

  Emmy looked to her right and saw Roxana coming out of a back room with a muscular man with tattoos and a lot of blond hair.

  This is Bronco,” Roxana said, and this is Emmy. Emmy wants to get back at that no good husband of hers; he’s sleeping with his ex.”

  Bronco looked Emmy over and smiled.

  “You should start fooling around yourself, that would teach him.”

  Emmy wondered if Bronco was volunteering, but then looked back at Roxana.

  “She’s here in town, that Velma Parker.”

  “She’s here? Where?”

  “I guess she’s staying at the hotel Mayor Penn owns, you know, the one on Main Street? But she might be at the trailer right now. There’s this guy named Pruitt, and he’s here from New York too, I think he’s a private eye or something.”

  Bronco and Roxana exchanged glances, and then Bronco cursed.

  “Gates must have told his ex-wife enough to get her curious and now she and the P.I. are looking to cut him out. She’s probably bedding him right now so he’ll spill the rest of the beans.”

  Emmy looked teary.

  “You think Peter and this Velma are in my bed right now?”

  “Why not?” Roxana said, “The quicker she gets him to talk, the quicker she gets the money.”

  Emmy turned red with anger and rushed out of the bar.

  “That’s a little spitfire, that one is,” Bronco said, as the sound of Emmy squealing out of the parking lot reached their ears.

  ***

  Velma sent a knee into Gates' groin that missed his testicles, but it did manage to push him off of her and allow her time to get to her feet.

  “Stop it, Peter! Stop it and just tell me the name.”

  Gates laughed.

  “That pretty boy Chris must have dumped you. That’s why you’re so damn angry, isn’t it?”

  Velma spoke through gritted teeth.

  “Give me a name.”

  “I don’t have one, Vel, but I do know that it’s a woman behind it, and I’d be willing to bet that she’ll be the next one in pretty boy’s bed, or ah, is she already in it? That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you’re so damn angry, because some girl already took him from you.”

  “That’s a lie, and I don’t believe that you don’t know her name.”

  “Hell, I never even spoke to her. She used a middleman, the same guy that took the pictures.”

  “Give me his name then.”

  Gates lit up a cigarette, pushed aside a stack of old newspapers, and sat on the sofa.

  “I’ll give you his name, but I want something in return.”

  “What?”

  Gates patted a spot beside him on the sofa.

  “One last roll in the hay, that’s my price.”

  Velma’s breathing grew faster, and Gates smiled as he foolishly took it for passion, but it was anger, and it was about to explode. Velma grabbed a baseball bat that was leaning against a chair by the door. As she started towards Gates, the door burst open and she was grabbed from behind.

  A second later, and Velma was falling to the floor, after having already blacked out.

  CHAPTER 11

  Velma awoke coughing, and she felt as though she had been deprived of sleep for days.

  She forced her eyes open at the very instant she registered the heat. When she saw that the window curtains were aflame, she let out a shriek and struggled to stand up, only to slip in something and fall to her knees on the floor of the trailer.

  What she slipped in, was the lifeblood of Peter Gates.

  As she rose again, she spotted him, or rather, what was left of him. Half his face was caved in and there was a crude gash on the side of his neck, while both his left leg and arm appeared to be broken. Velma took a step towards Gates, then doubled over as smoke entered her lungs and made it impossible to breathe.

  She turned, got a glance of herself in a broken mirror, and saw that she too was covered in blood, but there was no time to ponder why, only the singular desire for a clean breath of air.

  She wrenched open the door and was blinded by the sun and blessed by the breeze, as she stumbled down the stairs while taking deep breaths. With the door open, the fire fed quicker, and soon the interior of the trailer was completely ablaze.

  Velma had left her purse under the front seat of her rental. As she walked towards it, Emmy Gates drove in at a high rate of speed, only to come to a long skidding halt, which caused a plume of dirt and dust to rise.

  “Peter!”

  Emmy exited her car while screaming her husband’s name, as she watched her home be destroyed. She gave Velma a venomous stare, leaned back into the car, and emerged holding a gun and a phone.

  “You whore! Did you kill my husband? Damn you, answer me.”

  Velma held up a hand in a calming gesture, but then both she and Emmy saw that it was coated in blood.

  Emmy stepped closer, aimed the gun at her face, and called the police.

  ***

  New York City

  Chris woke up in Rayne’s bed and felt like the lowest thing on earth.

  He’d had many girlfriends before Velma, along with one other relationship that was serious, with a woman he loved, a college classmate. He had never cheated on any of them, and then Rayne came along.

  He turned his head and saw her sleeping face, so beautiful.

  She had one arm across his chest and he could feel the rhythmic beating of her heart against his side, a heart that claimed to love him.

  But do I love her?

  The question seemed insane to him. How could you not know whether or not you loved someone? But then he remembered that the woman he loved before Velma had also started as a friendship, and that he only realized that he had loved her when she was thinking of transferring to another college.

  Is it possible to love two women at the same time?

  He eased out from under Rayne’s arm and began to dress, but she awakened as he was putting on his shoes.

  “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “You mean that you didn’t want to wake me, but that’s all right, I understand.”

  Chris spread his arms in a gesture of helplessness.

  “I don’t know why I’m here. I love Velma.”

  “I know you do, and I’m still not asking you for anything. I love you, Chris, just remember that. I love you, I’ll never lie to you, and if you never come back again, I’ll still love you.”

  Chris went over to the bed, leaned over, and kissed Rayne on the lips.

  “I’ll call you, later, after I’ve had time to think.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Rayne rose from the bed as he finished dressing, and followed him to the door wearing only a short silk robe.

  After opening the door, Chris leaned over and kissed her again.

  “I don’t know if I love you, but I do know that this isn’t simply about sex.”

  “I know that, Chris, because if it was, you wouldn’t have come back.”

  “I won’t be back again. I can’t lose Velma.”

  Rayne gazed at him with a blank expression, and Chris let loose a great sigh.

  “Goodbye, Rayne.”

  Rayne closed the door behind him, smiled a satisfied grin, and headed for the shower.

  ***

  Pachaw, Texas

  Sheriff Rich Hennessy stared at Velma Parker and the bloody clothes she wore.

  Hennessy was a man of average height, 37, and married with three kids. He was a handsome man who, despite his average height, was an exceptional amateur basketball player, and the sport kept him in good shape.

  He wore no uniform, but a silver star was prominent on his denim shirt and there was an automatic hanging from his right hip. He favored cowboy hats, and was rarely seen outside with
out one perched on his head, as one was this morning.

  One of Hennessy’s deputies walked over to him. She was carrying two large, clear evidence bags. One contained the broken handle of a bat. The handle was bloody and fingerprints were discernable in the drying blood. The second bag contained a straw hat with a wide brim, this too was bloody. The deputy’s name was Amy West, and she was slim, blonde, 23, and a cousin of Emmy Gates.

  “What’s her story, Amy?”

  “Her name is Velma Parker and she’s from New York City. She says that she got the bruise on her face when Peter Gates hit her. As far as the blood, she has no idea. She says that she passed out and that when she came to the trailer was on fire and Gates was dead, and oh yeah, Gates was her ex-husband.”

  Hennessy ran a hand over his clean-shaven face as he thought things over.

  “We’ll need her clothes for Reese Brown to study, and I also want a blood sample.”

  “I have everything I need in the truck; I’ll start setting up.”

  “Do that,” Hennessy said, and then he walked over to Velma, who was sitting atop a large stone and watching a firefighter douse a nearby area, where several brush fires had begun. They’d been caused by the blaze that had engulfed the trailer.

  “Miss Parker, I’m Sheriff Hennessy, ma’am. Is there anything you’d like to say to me?”

  “I’m innocent, Sheriff, I did not kill Peter.”

  “What sort of work do you do, ma’am?”

  “I’m a private investigator, and I work for Jake Caliber.”

  “Really? Now that’s something, the man is a true legend. But now, seeing as how you are such an accomplished investigator, do you have any idea what might have happened here?”

  “Yes, I believe that I may have been drugged. When I first woke up in the trailer I was groggy, and I’m still a little woozy, but I don’t seem to have suffered a blow to the head, and so I think I was injected with something.”

  “By whom?”

  “Whom?”

  “Sorry, my education is showing, and sometimes I forget that I’m supposed to be a hick sheriff.”

  Despite her predicament, Velma grinned.

  “Well, to answer your question, the whom is unknown, because they injected me from behind. I know it wasn’t Peter, because he was in front of me.”

  Hennessy took out his phone and made a call, when the other party answered, he spoke.