Two Ways to Die: A Java Jarvis Thriller

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Two Ways to Die: A Java Jarvis Thriller Page 15

by Erin Wade


  “We need to coordinate with the San Antonio authorities,” Kat pointed out. “It will need to be their boots on the ground. We don’t have the manpower.”

  “I’ll coordinate that,” Beau agreed. “My biggest fear right now is hot heads taking matters into their own hands. People are already buying guns to protect themselves.

  “Should we alert the citizens of San Antonio of our suspicions or just keep them to ourselves?”

  “Forewarned is forearmed,” Java exhaled.

  “My point exactly,” Beau cautioned.

  “Let’s not make any public announcements,” Java worried. “It would only cause mass hysteria and God knows we have enough of that already.”

  The three agreed to keep their theory to themselves for the time being.

  Beau’s phone played Penny’s ringtone. “Where are you,” Beau answered.

  “At the crime scene,” Penny barked. “It’s a circus over here. The locals are stomping all over my crime scene. Why didn’t you secure it?”

  “I tried,” Beau groaned. “The Chief of Police informed me he was quite capable of handling his own crime scene.”

  “We’ll work it and get the bodies,” Penny informed him. “Why don’t you come over and give me a hand. Where’s Java and her team?

  “Java and Kat are with me,” Beau informed her. “I didn’t call in Barbie and Chris after the chief refused to cooperate. They’re interviewing the Roach brothers today.”

  “Roche,” Kat corrected. “You’re as bad as Java.”

  “We’re grabbing coffee,” Beau told Penny. “You want a Starbucks?”

  “Always,” Penny chuckled.

  ##

  Java couldn’t believe the chaos of Penny’s crime scene. Not only had the local authorities stomped through the blood, brains and gore, the police chief was giving interviews standing on the blood covered sidewalk.

  Fighting the urge to choke the showboating chief in front of the cameras, Java threw her long blonde hair up into a ponytail, pulled on a Saints ball cap and her sunshades. Stepping in front of the news cameras, she prayed no one would recognize her on the evening news. As she approached the sheriff, she pulled open her jacket showing him her badge. She walked him away from the news people, showed him her FBI ID and threatened to file charges against him for the obstruction of a federal investigation.

  “Get these clowns out of here now,” she growled, “or I will embarrass you beyond belief.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” the sheriff snarled.

  “Just watch me,” Java promised. “If they aren’t gone by my three count, I will make you the laughingstock of Louisiana. One, two—”

  “Everyone out,” the chief screamed herding the reporters away from the house.

  “You promised us a look inside the house,” a pretty blonde reminded the chief.

  “As soon as we clear the scene,” the chief replied. “Right now, all of you need to move your vans and staff down to the end of the street where we’ll wait for the ME to give us the go head on entering the crime scene.”

  As soon as the area was cleared Penny’s team began loading the bodies into the coroner’s truck. Java noticed they had stacked two smaller bodies onto one gurney.

  “Where were you when I needed you,” Penny grumbled as she emerged from the house. “It’s pretty gory in there but take a look around and see if you notice anything I might have missed.”

  Java nodded waving for Kat and Beau to follow her.

  The scene was much like all the others they’d worked. The murder weapon was lodged in the wall and an iced-tea pitcher filled with blood was sitting on the cabinet. The Bible verse was missing, but the killer had carefully tallied the score of his kills in segments of five. Eight groups of five—four straight marks connected by a diagonal line for the fifth mark—plus four more marks. The Basher’s kills now totaled 44. He was throwing it in their face.

  Penny had bagged the voodoo dolls with the body they were placed on. Java took photos of the body count carefully tallied on the wall. “Sick bastard,” she muttered.

  ##

  Kat held Java’s hand as they drove back to Orleans. “This is the worst case I’ve ever worked,” she confided. “It makes me know that the monsters among us are human.”

  “I know baby,” Java tightened her grip on Kat’s hand.

  “Mark my word,” Kat continued. “This is going to be some bible thumping fanatic doing God’s work.”

  “Yeah and hell couldn’t even begin to get hot enough to make him pay for his debauchery,” Java concluded.

  “Are you having dinner with Déjà vu tonight?” Kat almost whispered.

  “Yes, it’s the only way I could get her to go over her credit card receipts looking for people who purchased twenty or more of the buttons.”

  Kat nodded and said nothing.

  Java shifted uneasily in her seat. “Honey you know it’s strictly business.”

  “If you ever cheat on me, it will be the end of us,” Kat warned.

  “You think I don’t know that,” Java gasped. “There’s no way in hell I’d take a chance on losing you. Surely you know that.”

  “I know,” Kat confessed. “I also know how women throw themselves at you.”

  “Oh, and look who’s talking,” Java chided, “I have to fight suitors off you with a stick.”

  “I wish we could be open about us,” Kat said. “I want everyone to know that you belong to me and I belong to you.”

  “Have you thought any more about what we discussed?” Java asked.

  “Leaving the FBI?” Kat huffed. “You love being an FBI agent. Honestly Java, I think you’d be miserable outside the agency.”

  “We can’t live like this for the rest of our lives,” Java pointed out. “I hate being away from you Kat. You’re on my mind every minute of the day. When you’re not with me I’m like a cat on a hot tin roof until you are back beside me.”

  “I feel the same,” Kat agreed. “Maybe if we talk to Karen. Explain our situation.”

  “After we solve this case,” Java said. “Let’s get away for a few days—just the two of us and weigh the pros and cons. All I know is that I want to fall asleep with you every night and wake up beside you every morning.”

  Kat nodded. “I want that more than anything.”

  They arrived at Java’s home with just enough time for her to shower and dress. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she promised as she kissed Kat goodbye.

  “Just remember what will be waiting for you when you return,” Kat smiled salaciously.

  Java moaned loudly as the brunette pulled from her arms and pushed her toward the door. “That’s all I’ll think about,” Java promised.

  CHAPTER 38

  Java pulled her car into the circular drive in front of Déjà’s two-story southern mansion featuring antebellum architecture with its Georgian columns. Java knew the plantation had been home to five generations of LeBlanc’s. Two generations of slaves from Africa’s western slave coast and the next three generations as servants. Déjà had managed to pull together enough funds to pay cash for the place when it went into foreclosure. Java wasn’t certain where the money came from and she really didn’t want to know.

  Rumor was that Déjà’s great-grandmother was Marie Laveau, New Orleans famous voodoo practitioner. Laveau’s knowledge and skills had been passed down to Déjà.

  Java was a little nervous about her first visit to the priestess’ home and sat in the car observing the house and immaculate grounds. Shaking off her feeling of apprehension, she stepped from her car and walked to the front door.

  Déjà opened the door and beamed at Java. “You’re right on time,” she said. “I just took the blackened chicken breast off the stove.”

  Déjà held out her hand for Java’s jacket and hung it in the foyer closet. “I gave my staff the night off,” she said as she led Java toward the kitchen. “I thought it best since we will be discussing The Basher case.”

  Java nodde
d and followed her hostess noting the many Catholic crosses and voodoo rosaries used to decorate the mansion. “That’s quite an eclectic collection of religious items,” Java commented.

  “Umm,” Déjà hummed. “In Orleans, Voodoo became intertwined with the Catholic teachings centuries ago. It’s an eclectic religion.

  “Something smells incredible,” Java sniffed the air.

  “I hope you like blackened chicken,” Déjà replied. “It’s my own special recipe of herbs and spices.”

  “It’s mouthwatering,” Java grinned. “What can I do to help?”

  “Pour the wine and we’ll be ready to dine,” Déjà laughed.

  “The voodoo dolls are all we have to go on,” Java admitted as they discussed the various aspects of the case. “If I can narrow our search to anyone purchasing twenty or more buttons at a time, we may be able to locate the killer.”

  “I brought home the cash register receipts covering the period since the murders began,” Déjà said helping Java clear the table. “Why don’t you refill our wine glasses and I’ll go get them?”

  “Whoa, that’s a lot of receipts,” Java exclaimed as Déjà carried in two large banker’s boxes.

  “Yes, this could take all night,” Déjà grinned. She didn’t miss the look of anguish that crossed Java’s face.

  ##

  It was after midnight when they finished going through the register receipts. They had two-hundred purchases of twenty or more buttons.

  “Who is this that buys them a hundred at a time?” Java showed the receipt to Déjà. “They buy them once a month.”

  “Reverend Ames of the Sanctity Church,” Déjà frowned. “That’s a fundraiser for them. The ladies club meets once a month and makes voodoo dolls to sell to tourists.”

  “Still we should look into it,” Java bit her lip. “Make sure all the buttons go onto church dolls.”

  “Be careful,” Déjà cautioned. “The last thing you want is the local newsies tying these slaughters to the church. I feel confident they sell fifty dolls a month.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Java agreed.

  “All the receipts have the buyer’s name,” Déjà pointed out reaching to refill Java’s wine glass. “You should be able to track them down.”

  Java placed her hand over her goblet. “No more for me. I’ve got to drive home and I’ve already had too much to drink.”

  “You could spend the night,” Déjà appraised the blonde. “All work and no play makes Java a dull girl.”

  Java stood, swaying a little as she collected the receipts. “I really need to go,” she insisted.

  “Just remember my door is always open for you,” Déjà murmured.

  CHAPTER 39

  As soon as she pulled from Déjà’s driveway she instructed her car phone to dial Kat’s cellphone. The phone rang several times then went into voice mail. Java hung up. She prayed Kat was asleep in her bed, but she knew the spitfire. More than likely Kat had gone home.

  Java’s fears were confirmed when she drove up the drive to her lake house. Kat’s car wasn’t there.

  Just as well, Java thought. I’m too tired to argue with Kat tonight anyway. She’ll be furious but at least I’ll have my wits about me tomorrow.

  ##

  Java awoke with a splitting headache. I know I shouldn’t drink wine, she thought as she stumbled to the bathroom. A good strong cup of coffee is what I need.

  She tried to call Kat as the coffee pot dripped the much-needed brown liquid into its carafe, but the brunette wasn’t answering her phone.

  Java carried her cup out to the veranda overlooking the lake and inhaled the crisp morning air. Her head cleared after the second cup of coffee and she poured a third cup to take with her. By the time she reached the restaurant she was ready to face the world. She picked up the large envelope containing Déjà’s receipts, took a deep breath and marched into her place of business.

  The bustling activity in the restaurant soothed her nerves as she greeted Barbie and Chris. “Where’s Kat?” She inquired.

  “In her dressing room,” Barbie shrugged. “Do you want me to get her?”

  “No, I didn’t see her car on the parking lot,” Java responded. “I thought maybe she’d had car trouble.”

  “The dealership brought her to work,” Chris volunteered. “She took her car in for service this morning.”

  Java informed Chris and Barbie of her search through Déjà’s receipts. “I’ll be in my office locating addresses,” she finished refilling her coffee cup. It’s going to be a long day, she thought.

  Java separated the credit card receipts by type of card. Each credit card company had different quantities of information. Some had the customer’s full name. Those would go to Chris who could locate the owner’s address. American Express printed only the last four digits of the card and no customer name. There was no problem if the customer’s signature was legible but most of them weren’t. It was like trying to decipher hieroglyphics. Those cards were placed in the stack that would require Java’s computer skills. Basically, she would hack the card companies’ data bases and extract the card owners name and address.

  ##

  “Sir, we’re not open for business yet,” Chris informed a handsome man in his early forties. “We won’t open for another hour.”

  “I need to speak with Kat Lace,” the man insisted. “Please tell her I’m here. I’m certain she will want to see me.”

  “I need your name,” Chris said.

  “Marcus Lace.” He smiled as he handed Chris his business card.

  Chris studied the card then looked up at the balcony. “She’s in her dressing room,” Chris said.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know where that is,” he smiled his easy smile again. “Would you please show me where to go?”

  Chris glanced up again then nodded. “Please follow me.”

  Marcus Lace was handsome by anyone’s standards and carried himself with the ease of a man who always got what he wanted.

  “Kat,” Chris knocked on the dressing room door, “you have a visitor.”

  Kat opened the door and looked around Chris. “Marcus,” she beamed catching the man’s hand and dragging him into her dressing room.

  Chris heard the door lock after Kat closed it. She still had the man’s card in her hand. I probably should let Java know what’s going on, she thought.

  Java looked up from her computer as Chris entered her office. “Chris, I need you to take this stack with names clearly imprinted on them and find the address for the card owner. I’ll—”

  “Java,” Chris cut her off, “Kat’s husband is in her dressing room.”

  “Oh!” Java exclaimed. “That’s good to know. Now about these receipts—”

  Chris interrupted her boss again. “Aren’t you upset?”

  “Umm, no,” Java frowned. “I’m more concerned about catching The Basher than meeting Kat’s husband.”

  Chris held out Marcus Lace’s business card. “He’s an airline pilot. That explains why he’s rarely around.”

  “Mm-hum,” Java nodded.

  “We were beginning to think she wasn’t really married,” Chris blurted.

  “She’s definitely married,” Java squinted her eyes. “I’ve got a killer headache. Do you have any aspirin?”

  “Downstairs. I’ll get the bottle for you.” Chris reached for Java’s cup. “You want a refill? I just made a fresh pot.”

  “That would be great,” Java nodded, “and Chris, thanks for the heads up.”

  “I thought you’d want to know.” Chris shrugged as she left the room.

  ##

  Marcus Lace stayed with Kat for over two hours then she escorted him to the front of the restaurant where she hugged him goodbye and watched him walk to his car.

  “Nice,” Barbie whistled. “Does this mean Java is a free agent?”

  Kat glared at the blonde. “Sometimes I worry about you Barbie,” she hissed. “You say the dumbest things.”

 
; “I’ll take that as a no,” Barbie mumbled as Kat entered the elevator.

  Java looked up as Kat entered her office, “I think I may have a couple of viable suspects,” she said trying to avoid the tongue lashing she knew was inevitable because of her late night with Déjà.

  Kat closed the door and locked it. She held Java’s gaze as she slowly walked toward her. She stopped beside Java and perched on her desk leaning down to whisper in the blonde’s ear. “First I need you to bend me over this desk and—.”

  Java needed no further invitation, she pulled Kat onto her lap and nibbled at her lips before kissing her breathless.

  “You’re not angry with me?” Java whispered as she eased her hand up Kat’s skirt.

  “I didn’t say that,” Kat purred. “You’ll pay for that later. Right now, I need you to take care of me.”

  ##

  Later Java stroked Kats hair as she leaned her head against Java’s chest. “I love hearing your heart hammer like this,” Kat admitted. “I’m glad to know I excite you the same way you excite me.”

  “You drive me crazy,” Java whispered.

  “Umm,” Kat hummed reluctant to leave the warmth of Java’s arms.

  Java kissed the top of her head and continued to stroke her hair. “Marcus okay?”

  “Yes. He came by to tell me he will be flying intercontinental flights, so he won’t be home much. His home base will be New York until further notice.”

  “He was with you for a long time,” Java muttered.

  “I know,” Kat said flatly.

  “We should make ourselves presentable,” Java sighed. “I’m pretty sure I have makeup smeared all over my face just like you do.”

  “Your hair’s a mess,” Kat agreed. “We do look like we just got out of bed.”

  CHAPTER 40

  While Kat finished reapplying her makeup Java called Chris and Barbie to join them. By the time the other two agents arrived Kat had struck a lady-like pose in an office chair, her long legs crossed at the knees.

  “We need to find out if the ladies at The Sanctity Church sell fifty dolls a month,” Kat studied the church’s sales receipt provided by Déjà.

 

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