Murder of the Prodigal Father

by Mark Wm Smith

  Anger intensified within my solar plexus. How could God have wrapped me in this twisted thinking? Shouldn’t He have stepped in to protect my innocent family? And where was He all those years ago when I developed this misguided social interface? My teeth ground out the expectation of answers to these questions. Even if the Angel Gabriel swooped down with a list, I would probably mistake it for toilet paper.

  Dixon pissed me off as well. Here was a seasoned veteran in the wiles of women. How had he fallen into a trap like this? Where did he get the idea that a woman his daughter’s age might want a romance with him? And why hadn’t he had the tiniest bit of respect for his own son? That last one really steamed me. A blaze of excessive inhalation remind me to calm down.

  “Idiot!” I said to the empty street. “Idiot, idiot, idiot,” I said to Dixon’s spirit, to myself, and to Jasia Weaver for whatever perverse thinking had brought her to such evil deeds.

  As I approached the car my mind released the obvious. Jasia needed to be caught. If I couldn’t rely on Chief Frieze to step out and uncover the truth, I’d have to do it for him.

  Opening the car door pulled on the torn muscles. I damn near bit my tongue.

  I’d need Tony’s help to round her up. No way I could trust my broken body against a stone killer. Not without a backup. I climbed into the seat and drove over to Tony’s, hoping the whole way that he’d refrain from calling Doc Marcus.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be looking after me?” I said when Tony opened his front door.

  “You look like I should be.” He held a chicken leg in one hand. “Hungry?”

  “I’d eat.”

  He let me in and led the way to the kitchen.

  Jimmy and Regina colored trains and unicorns at the dining table. “Hi, Mr. Connor,” they said in unison.

  I smiled. “Hi guys.”

  Tony tickled each in turn. “Time to skedaddle into bed, kids.” When they tried to grumble, he tickled them again. They skedaddled.

  “I like you, Dad. Can I get some of that chicken now?”

  “It’s cold.” He pulled a leg from a container in the refrigerator and handed it to me.

  Until I chomped into the meat, I’d forgotten the number of hours since I’d had food. My saliva glands ached. My head filled with helium and tugged at my angry stomach. “Can I sit,” I said around a mouthful.

  “Sit, but mind your manners.”

  It took about two minutes to finish the leg.

  Tony watched without commenting. He got up and pulled out another.

  I grabbed it from him. As my body absorbed the calories, I began my story. “I went over the list of why’s at Jasia’s house.”

  “The list of y’s?”

  “Clues that had me thinking something funny was up. That Dixon had been killed.” I peeled off another chunk while he processed.

  “So you decided you had clues. Not just a hunch or a premonition.”

  “Clues. That’s right, Watson. Not just me bringing my fantastic imagination to the funeral.”

  “What kind of clues?”

  “You remember the record on the turntable?”

  “Some girl singer, related to that actor, Kevin Cline? I like his work.”

  “I don’t know if they’re related. Let’s try to stay on task.” I cleaned up the last of the leg. A sigh brought the anticipated twinge of pain, but I still enjoyed it.

  “Your dad hated the record, but there it was.”

  “You got it. And then I ran across some horticulture items.”

  “Like gardening?”

  “Specifically, DDT. Dixon had some behind the shop. Zach Polson got sick from it. I found a jug at Granger’s farm. Anybody could have gotten it out of Dixon’s back lot.” My lungs needed a rest.

  “Who cares about DDT? EPA being the exception.”

  “I talked to Doc Marcus about the stuff, after Zach told me he’d gotten sick. Enough of it will kill you. Especially with a little help from illegal stimulants.”

  “Like Dixon had probably taken that night.”

  “Like that.”

  Tony pulled a chair around and straddled it with his arms over the back. “Interesting, but insubstantial.”

  “Jasia checked out a book about a month ago.”

  Tony didn’t show emotion over this, but his pupils dilated.

  “Her helper, that little Nicole, accidentally mentioned Dixon’s name this morning. That’s why I started connecting Jasia to the other stuff. Similar record albums, architecture, a couple of yard books on her coffee table— her yard is a catastrophe.”

  “This is serious business, Connor.”

  “I spent the day in the library, dazed into a stupor. Almost ten hours.” Telling the story kindled unwanted tenderness in my heart.

  Tony sat up straight. “Ten hours? Damn. Don’t think that’s what Doc Marcus meant by rest.”

  “I think she killed him. I know she had an affair with him.”

  “Crap.” The news knocked the wind out of him. “That has got to sting, Pard.”

  My tear ducts backed up into my neck. I clamped down, focused on the fix. “Yeah. Payback is a bitch.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Go get her.”

  “Frieze won’t like it. Your books, even the affair won’t be enough evidence for him. We have to get her to confess. Make sure we have enough for the old buzzard.”

  “So, the truth comes out.”

  “He’s all right. Just a little too much like a carrion, overly focused on what’s in front of him.” Tony made binoculars with his hands. “Most of the time, it’s a good thing for a cop.”

  “I’ll confront her about the books and Patsy Cline.” I shook off the remainder of the heartache. Having an ally gave me hope. “And then put her on the spot about seeing Dixon.”

  “See how she reacts?”

  “Can we do this tonight?”

  “I’ll tell Juanita.”

  “Got anymore chicken?” I asked.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The Capture

  Jasia answered the door when I knocked. “Connor? It’s late.”

  “We’ll only be a few minutes. Can we come in?”

  She peered at Tony, smiled weakly, and opened the door.

  Before I could work out a less public plan, Jasia had led us into the kitchen. Lindsay and Nicole were in there cleaning up.

  Nicole glanced up. Her eyes flitted over me and her boss before landing on Tony. I wondered, very briefly, if she might have a crush on him. She moved to the farthest corner of the room.

  The ache of my arm tugged at my resolve. I took a deep, burning breath and started in. I wasn’t up to prolonging this. “You were seeing Dixon?” I asked her.

  Jasia stopped. Between her gorgeous black hair and sculpted chin, an irate gape told me I’d not wasted our time. “That’s ludicrous,” she said, closing down her emotions.

  Tony gave me an exasperated look, and mouthed, “What about the library books?”

  I shrugged. And winced. “Nicole mentioned he wasn’t allowed in the house.”

  Jasia glared at Nicole.

  “I’m sorry,” the younger woman said from her corner. “It slipped. It seemed so strange that Dixon wasn’t allowed to come over. And then he died.” Nicole’s words quieted by degrees on the downward slide toward weeping.

  Jasia turned back to me, innocent kindness replacing her anger. “It’s a coincidence, of course.”

  “You were seeing my father, then?”

  A shadow crossed her smiling eyes. “What was I supposed to do, wait around for Connor to come home?” She turned to the counter and picked up a couple of pans, moving them into the water-filled sink. She dipped down and pulled a bottle of dishwashing liquid from the cupboard below.

  Nicole’s tears gave way to stunned anticipation. Lindsay tried to act as if this kind of event was routine.

  I wanted to get her out of there, but saw no option. The ball was in play.

  “Yo
u didn’t have to kill him.”

  Jasia faced me. “Are you out of your mind, Connor Pierce?” Her expression mixed hurt and rage like chocolate brownie swirl. She held a paring knife at her side.

  “That’s not a good idea, Jasia,” Tony said in a calm voice.

  “What are you talking about? You think I might hurt him?” She held up the small knife, and stared at it. “I could never hurt him.” Her tone became detached.

  “Hurt who?” Tony asked, prompting for a confession.

  I eyed the knife, wondering how crazy she was and if I could just wrestle it away from her. She was small, but I was wounded.

  Jasia stepped up to me, wielding the knife like a pointer. “I would never hurt him, Connor. Never.” Her voice was filled with a certainty not unlike her everyday determination. “He was too much....” Her eyes turned downward.

  “Too much what?” I leaned forward, anticipating a grab for her knife hand.

  Jasia lifted her eyes. They blazed with fury. “Like you!”

  Lindsay froze and began to tremble almost imperceptibly.

  My muscles tensed for the attack. The burn in my shoulder and back faded. I felt my knees bend slightly, ready to pounce.

  Jasia’s head moved forward the tiniest bit.

  Sweat trickled down my spine.

  Nicole spoke. “Hand over your gun, Tony.”

  Jasia’s angry squint dropped with her jaw, as she twisted to look at Nicole.

  My body relaxed as I swiveled my head to see what was happening.

  The younger woman stood with her feet spread like a warrior. With both hands, she was pointing a small revolver at Tony over the top of Lindsay’s head. “On the floor.”

  Confusion swirled me into a fog. “Nicole?”

  “Dixon was a pig.” Nicole said in that childlike voice. Only this tone held no warmth. “He liked little girls. He deserved to die.”

  “Where’d you get that idea?” I asked instinctively, out of some familial urge to protect the Pierce name.

  “Ask Jasia,” Nicole said. “She’ll tell you all about Dixon’s perverted history.”

  Jasia took a quick breath. “Oh no.”

  “What are you talking about?” I demanded. “Dixon was no child molester.”

  “Right.” Nicole’s contempt came through. “Why don’t you ask your Uncle Granger about that. Or your sister.”

  “Nicole.” Jasia gave her a dumbfounded look. “You killed him? Because of what I told you?”

  “He deserved it. His hands on me....” She shuddered. “I’m younger than his daughter.”

  “What did you tell her?” I said to Jasia, raising my hands in exasperation.

  “Don’t!” Nicole stabbed the gun at me.

  My hands automatically went higher. The stab of pain in my shoulder caused my gut muscles to tense, which pulled me double. I reached to comfort the arm. In the clarity that comes when a plane stalls at five thousand feet, I understood the self deceit of my sexual passion for Jasia. I’d been cruising along on a fantasy. When its engine failed, I realized the crash wasn’t worth it. A revelation too late. Epiphany. Reality. Loving Nansi became the finest act of my life. I would die for her right here in my lover’s kitchen, and maybe she would never know that truth.

  “Sorry about that,” Nicole said in a more relaxed voice. “I didn’t want to shoot you. You were asking too many questions. And having sex with Jasia. That’s against the Bible. A man should not sleep with his father’s concubine.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Nicole?” Jasia wrinkled her forehead. “Connor was going to be my husband years before Dixon came along.”

  “Still.” Nicole wavered a bit, using the pistol to redirect her point. “It’s more proof that Dixon was a perverted old man.”

  “No argument there,” I said.

  “And he took me right into his room. I’m just doing the right thing.”

  “That I’ll argue with.”

  She huffed at me. “Just put your gun on the floor, Deputy.” Nicole’s voice and stance tightened up.

  “All right.” Tony placed the Glock on the floor. “Just stay calm.” He gave it a shove with his toe so it slid halfway to Lindsay.

  I gawked at my friend. “What the hell, Tony?”

  “Let it go, Connor. It’s my ass on the line here.”

  Did he have that much faith in her state of mind? Or was he more concerned about Lindsay getting shot? Either way, I didn’t like the result.

  I turned my head like a game show host. “Nicole. Don’t you think this is making a bad thing worse? What does the Bible say about taking little girls hostage.” A part of me expected wisdom to pop out of the favored contestant’s mouth.

  “Lindsay,” Nicole said without looking away from Tony. “Move over by your mother.”

  Lindsay remained dazed, still quivering. A leaf in an unexpected breeze.

  “Lindsay!”

  It sent a shock wave rippling through the ten-year-old.

  Jasia stepped over and folded her arms around her daughter. “You hurt her and I will—”

  “Shut up!” Nicole moved forward and put the pistol next to Jasia’s nose. “You let that perverted old man touch you. I don’t want to hear your voice anymore.”

  Jasia didn’t flinch.

  “Get the gun, Lindsay,” Nicole commanded.

  “It’s okay, baby.” Jasia used her own foot to pull the gun toward them. “Just pick it up for Nicole.” In a softer tone she said, “Nicole, you’re fired.”

  A huff of laughter escaped me.

  Nicole glowered at her ex-employer, her jaw pulsing.

  Lindsay bent and took the gun with thumb and index finger like she was cleaning up after the dog.

  I expected Tony was thinking what I was thinking. Taking advantage of her size and fear, we could get that gun back. But given her inexperience and Nicole’s psychosis, grabbing for it might get her and her mother killed.

  “Give it to me, honey,” Nicole said in the warm, sweetly concerned voice of sisterly love.

  Lindsay lifted the big gun, tears dripping from her chin.

  “Nicole.” I spoke softly, fearful of the balance, but hopeful that she might realize the trauma Lindsay was suffering. “Don’t involve the child.”

  Her black look closed that door of wisdom. She barked at Lindsay. “I said give it here!”

  Jasia crouched protectively over her daughter.

  Nicole took one hand off of the revolver to grab a handful of Jasia’s shirt, and attempted to yank her boss away from the girl.

  “This is nuts, Nicole,” I said.

  “Shut up!”

  Jasia pulled against Nicole’s hold. Nicole jerked harder. Jasia tore herself free, ripping her blouse, and she and Lindsay toppled forward. The Glock skidded across the linoleum.

  Nicole’s revolver cracked like a giant whip in the small space. A puff of dust danced on Jasia’s shirt even as the wisp of smoke from the barrel filled the air with the scent of burnt gunpowder.

  Nicole jumped back and hit the wall behind her.

  I straightened and started to move toward her.

  She aimed the gun at me. “He was a pervert! That kind of news gets around. Don’t take my word for it, ask your Uncle Granger.” As her ears adjusted to the gun’s explosive effect, the volume of her voice dropped.

  “I talked to Granger. That was all a setup,” I said, stretching the story to fit. “He was mad at Dixon and wanted to hurt him.” I watched to see if she was absorbing my words. “For my mother,” I added.

  Nicole squinted and pursed her lips slightly.

  Jasia whimpered.

  I could see blood spreading on her back. “You killed him over a made up story,” I said.

  Nicole’s mouth made an O and her eyes opened a little wider. Before my hope reached an easy breath, she clamped up again.

  “Mom?” Lindsay’s question extended into a long, begging cry.

  “Quiet, Lindsay,” Nicole said in a firm tone. �
�I have to do this. It’s for our protection. We can’t let them use us like sex dolls.” Nicole’s eyes glazed over some. “Guys like Connor and Zach and Dixon are always out chasing the next young skirt and the world is better without them.” Her cloudiness cleared up as rapidly as it drifted in. “I’m leaving here. With Lindsay and Jasia.”

  Lindsay began shuddering, sobbing loudly.

  “Jasia’s hurt, Nicole. We need a doctor.” Tony pleaded with a quiet voice and tender expression.

  Nicole’s eyes went wide with anger, and immediately narrowed. She jerked the small gun around and an orange flash exploded toward my friend.

  Tony grunted.

  With a single breath of prayer, I leaped at Nicole and knocked her back, hard against the wall. My shoulder screeched its anguished disapproval. My lungs felt like they were collapsing as I wrestled for control of the weapon.

  Nicole was strong and cunning. She pushed toward my weak right arm, trying to work the pain to her advantage. I had to give in. I let her roll us over, and she was on top, shoving her weight into my wounded side. I could feel her finger reaching into the trigger guard. With the last reserve of energy, I kicked with my left leg to push us farther. Excruciating hot stabs threatened a black out. I twisted hard on the handgrip.

  The revolver slid across the tile.

  Nicole’s face contorted with confusion and sorrow. She lost energy. For a second. Then she freaked out, thrashing and kicking.

  I gripped her body, trying to squeeze her into submission. The pressure brought all of my physical torment to the surface. I knew I couldn’t hang on long.

  Lindsay was crying out behind me. “Mommy be okay, Mommy be okay.”

  Tony groaned. “Just keep her down for a second, Connor.”

  My shoulder and upper back wanted to slap him in the face. I squeezed harder.

  Nicole shrieked into my neck.

  I felt her mouth open and teeth scrape my skin.

  “Okay, Pierce,” Tony said. “I’ve got my gun.”

  I rolled free, feeling every agonizing movement. A sharp pinch shot into my neck, and I knew she’d taken a bite. I clasped the spot against the protests of my shoulder. “You are one mean little brat,” I told her.