St James Gate (James Webb Rescue Book 1)

by BL Burke

“I don’t think so,” Kate said.

  “See ya, tomorrow sweetie.” Cindy said with a grin and walked out of the bar, it was her finale, no arguing with her on this.

  Chapter 12

  A light rain splashed through the window screen like a mister at Disney World. James let the water trickle down the side of his face. He took another bite of his Hungry Man.

  Three floors below, Milwaukee night crowd started to come out. Excited kids who were celebrating the end of another semester at Marquette or UWM seemed to crowd the street. He heard the young boys howling and cat calling the girls, trying to provoke some sort of response to their animalistic mating call. Are we all just animals in some large zoo? That’s a theory right?

  James sipped his beer and looked at his empty studio apartment, no woman would come there willingly. The couch had dog hair from his last foster, the kitchen was the size of a closet and the closet the size of a kitchen. His rarely used ten-year-old TV sat on a crate. He peered down toward the ground, toward life. So many people with their companions whether it was lovers, friends or simple acquaintances rushing to get anywhere through the warm wet night.

  His phone buzzed, Renee, ‘got a quote on the fence, you sure about this?’

  ‘Yes,’ James texted back. She was probably sitting in her office still, most likely all night. It was the reason she installed the shower.

  James took another drink, the creamy stout helped numb the thought that he was suppressing all day. Did I kill Isaac? His arm pushed out and cracked as his mind raced to the scene. I’m not a killer… right?

  James thought about calling Leroy, his only guy friend, the only one he’d grab a beer with. In between his part time EMT job and the rescue he didn’t go out much and never got too close.

  His sister’s, ‘we all have issues,’ speech annoyed the hell out of him. Not like James, he was different.

  James closed his eyes and saw Isaac’s face. The thug, stoner, loser… murderer. His face lit by flames, eyes widened with surprise and accusation as the glow of the flames tore through his skin, his constant howls of terror and pain. Then Leroy and Austin rushed him out. His chest pounded as they appeared just as his arm kicked out.

  Did he mean it? He ground his teeth and looked at his mashed-up chicken. His stomach felt like it was twisting. Like Isaac.

  He could’ve done his job, save the bastard who partly terrorized the neighbors with his ‘gangsta’ crew. But killing the dog for fun, James took a drink from the can.

  His arm didn’t twitch. He knew it wasn’t an accident. He switched the beer and shifted in his seat. The four pack of Guinness wouldn’t be enough, he needed something stronger.

  James checked the time on his watch, 9:10. The liquor stores were closed but that meant a bar, the only one he went two was two floors below. After nearly three years living down here, he rarely set foot them. As he downed the last drop and crushed his can.

  ---------

  The pub had Irish signs but that was the extent of their authentic décor. The sound of wiley patrons blew out well beyond the doors. Inside people were climbing over each other like rats on a sinking ship to get a drink. The two bartenders worked hard to show off their skills neglecting quick drinks and angry customers. James saw the single stool open in the far corner of the bar with a Miller sign poking out just enough to make your neck hurt.

  “Hey girl,” a skinny bearded hipster said walking up to a girl with tattoos running down her arms.

  “Hi,” she replies, pretending he doesn’t exist. She’s twirling her hair in her fingers then she glances at a friend, then to him.

  It took twenty minutes to get his drink, Bourbon with two rocks. A local band started to play some alt rock in the back room. If it wasn’t for the other drinker’s babbling, he might have enjoyed listening to them. He closed his eyes and saw Isaac falling, tumbling into the fire. He opened them and blinked.

  The smell of some flowery perfume came to him before he heard the shout, “Hey, can I squeeze in.” James sat up, his head clipping the edge of the sign.

  “Ow,” A woman laughed and nudged her way in. James pressed himself against the wall, his cranked neck was getting a heck of a stretch.

  She slid between James and hipster’s back on the other side. She smiled at him with short with light brown hair, green eyes and a little bit of a crooked smile on a skinny face.

  “Sorry,” she yelled, “no room.” He gave a cursory look around the bar. He didn’t care.

  “No problem,” James said clearing his throat and yelling back, “I’m not waiting on anyone,” he wondered if that sounded a little sad.

  “Oh,” she shouted back. She glanced toward the back, James followed her gaze but didn’t know where she was looking.

  She pressed her chest into his shoulder trying to get closer to the busy barmen. The warmth from a beautiful woman was something he hadn’t felt for a long time. It was nice.

  The bartender started coming toward them, James quickly sucked the rest down and put the empty on the bar. He was unsure how to proceed, but he knew he wanted to, and her eyes seemed not to mind.

  “I’m ready for another as well,” he shouted to her, “how bout I get both?” She shrugged, James swallowed. James felt a little jump in his chest,

  “A vodka martini with two olives,”

  “Classy drink,” James said. He ordered the drinks from the bartender and turned to her, his mind went blank. What do people do at this point? They made eye contact he tried a smile then looked away trying to occupy his eyes he looked at the bright wooden walls following them to the back mirror.

  “I’m Kate, and your name is?” she said.

  In the mirror, he saw the bastard. Austin, with a friend, they could’ve been twins. Another beefy meat head. He was showing his ID to the bouncer at the door, though his bald head should’ve gave him away as a guy older than twenty-one. He was looking around the bar. The drinks slid in front of them and James traded him a twenty.

  “James,” he said then took a small sip, he smiled then glanced back up. He looked at the girl, she looked at him, then at the door and back. Austin spotted him and pointed. The friend cracked his neck.

  “Friends of yours?” she said.

  “Not really. It was nice meeting you,” he said and got off the stool, he glanced toward the rear for another exit. How did they find him? Does he run a spy network?

  “You too,” she said quickly. She grabbed her martini stood up and cut in front of him. He’d never see her again. James wondered if maybe he should take the beating, if he got to talk to her more it might be worth it. They held eyes for a second then she twisted away. He watched her skirt around the side of the bar, twisting between groups of drinkers and then stop right in front of Austin.

  Her loud shout almost drowned out the rest of the bar. “The hell is wrong with you, you ape.” Half the bar turned. James saw her glance toward him. She was pretty good and he got the hint. He picked up his glass and started to sidestep the long way around the confrontation. Austin was stammering something out. Both him and his buddy were over six-feet, almost a foot taller than her.

  James skimmed behind the pool tables. With his glass covering most of his face he took a final drink. He shivered as the Bourbon washed down his throat and he pushed passed the bouncer. James exited into the night and around the corner to his door. Something had to be done about Austin.

  Chapter 13

  “So, did you talk with the captain?” Perry asked as they pulled up to the animal control building. Marshall put it in park and stepped out. Perry frowned in the flip down mirror, his eyes looked red. He cracked the knuckles on his right hand before exiting. “I saw a memo on his desk from the DA… I was the subject.’”

  “I have no idea why the doc called us down.” Marshall said. Marshall should’ve gone to the captain just to cover his own ass, but Perry wasn’t sitting behind a desk with his sidearm securely placed in some pencil pusher’s locker.

  In the lead, Marshall wa
lked into small brown building in West Milwaukee, Perry less than a step behind him. Perry’s rubber soles squeaked on the white floor.

  “Why are we here?”

  “To see Dr. Frost,” they turned down a small hallway to the right. It was bland and smelled of some cleaner masking a dank odor.

  Marshall stopped at the third door on the left and knocked. A deep voice said “enter.”

  Perry followed Marshall in the room, not happy about the new paradigm. Perry was first, always, first in his family to graduate, first to serve since WWII, first to get respectable job.

  He was second into the office.

  Plaques dotted one wall, awards for menial things that would be trash for a person with some self-respect, Man of the Year from the zoological society, person of the month from the humane society, Boy Scout troop leader of the year.

  The black doctor was balding on the front and the top, he stood and jammed out his hand toward Marshall, then offered to Perry.

  “Morning Dr. Frost, detective’s Thompkins and Jefferson,” Marshall said.

  “Morning, call me Bob,” he said with light eyes.

  “Robert Frost?” Marshall said glancing at Perry,

  “It’s Bob, or Doctor Frost.” There was no smirking about him.

  “Bob, what’s up, this seems to be a first, calling in detectives.”

  “It is,” Bob moved his hand through his hair as if to see if anymore had grown. “I called you because of the pit bull, Adeline.”

  “Adeline?” Perry said. “That’s her name?”

  “How’d you know that?” Marshall said.

  “She was chipped, from the Humane Society.”

  “Chipped?” Perry asked.

  “Microchipped, so if she gets lost they can track her. Her name was Adeline before she was…”

  “Who picked her up?”

  “Rescued… well normally we say rescued, but her… she was tortured… probably by the man who ‘rescued’” he added air quotes “her, a bastard named Eddie Jefferson.” Perry grabbed the armrest, he felt the blood start to drain from his hands.

  “Okay, so we know who rescued her, you don’t call us down for that. What’s the problem?” Marshall said.

  “She’s a been in fights right?” Marshall nodded, “she has wounds from a hell of a lot…” Frost grabbed a pen from his desk and slid it behind his ear like a carpenter.

  “That’s what we think,” Marshall asked.

  “She’s well, tame I guess, probably from her time with the good people at the Humane Society… they really are great.”

  “You called us for that?” Perry asked, “to tell us she’s a good dog?”

  “I figured it might be relevant?”

  “To what, we’re not investigating the dog… or dog fighting?”

  “Perhaps you should,” Bob said, “it’s a major problem, monsters fighting and hurting dogs for their own amusement, if I could, I’d make them all fight each other to the death.”

  Perry took a deep nasally breath, “Eddie Jefferson is my brother.” His fists twitched.

  “Oh,” Bob said looking at Marshall as if questioning Perry’s presence in here. Marshall glanced at Perry, “none the less, she was treated like shit by an jackass… not necessarily your brother.” He added quickly.

  Perry scooted forward in his chair, his head over the small wooden desk, “that so?” his heart was pounding, the blood rushed to his head.

  “Perry,” Marshall said. Perry cracked both knuckles again, exploding in the small office. He felt a strong arm on his wrist pulling him back.

  Perry looked Marshall whose eyes were pleading with him, be calm, not the place. Perry took another breath. Marshall was on his side. Perry’s shoulders drooped and he leaned back.

  The doc looked nervously at Marshall, “should he be in here?”

  “Yes, continue.”

  “Sure,” Bob said and cleared his throat. “So as I was saying, she has the marks of numerous beatings, scratches, bites… yet she’s been getting along great with everyone, even other dogs.” Perry felt his insides clinch. He could see the dead dog from yesterday.

  “Odd,” Marshall said,

  “Why is that odd?” Bob asked.

  “When we got to her she was barking and trying to bite everyone,”

  “Except me,” Perry said.

  The old man put his hand on his chin for a second, ignoring Perry he said, “she was scared,”

  “And now?”

  “Like most American Staffordshire Terriers, more commonly known as the Pit Bull, she has this bad reputation, the… stup…” he cleared his throat, “misinformed public believe that all pit bulls are bloodthirsty and vicious.”

  “You don’t?” Marshall said.

  “Most well-informed know that’s about as far from the truth as possible, they are gentle and love humans. Sure they were bred to fight bears, but it’s the ass… the owners that screw them up.” He glanced at Perry, “sorry…”

  Perry clenched his teeth, “So… what’s this got to do with us?” This

  “I figured I’d inform you that we’re going to take her to a no kill shelter, a good place in the valley, Brew City Animal Rescue,” he said, “in case you need anything further.”

  “You have any files on her… trauma?”

  “You mean her abuse?” he said. Perry cracked his fingers, who was he mad at? The doc or Eddie. “Right here,” Bob handed Marshall a manila envelope with the words ‘Adeline’ scrawled on the tab.

  “Well, I don’t think we’ll need anything else,”

  “Where is this shelter located?” Perry asked.

  “Off St Paul,”

  Perry looked directly into his old brown eyes, “we’ll take her there, it’s a quick stop,” he said nonchalantly to Marshall whose eyes said ‘no.’ “You’re here, what will I do?” Perry smiled.

  “Well…” Bob said addressing Marshall, “if you are going I don’t see a problem with it.”

  -----

  Marshall got out of the cruiser and opened the back door, Adeline jumped out of the car, her clipped tail wagging, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth.

  “Don’t think she’s ever been allowed to ride without a cage,” Marshall said. Perry suggested to have the rear window open for her, she loved it. Her face hanging out the windows, checks flapping in the wind. Her joy felt good, if it wasn’t for the case… and his brother. Perry tried to put it from his mind. But Adeline was different than she was a day before, she didn’t try to bite, growl or even look at anyone funny. When she jumped in the car he could’ve swore she smiled. How could Eddie do this to her?

  “Know anything about this place?” Perry asked as he held the leash and they walked toward the entrance. The placed looked like it was originally built to manufacture something, red brick about five stories tall.

  “A little,” Marshall said, “been open for a few years now, they were in some little building in Bay View, then upgraded a year or so ago.”

  Sixteenth street bridge and highway 94 roared above them to the east and north. Orange construction barrels blocked a fence next to the building, a collection of bottles, cans, loose papers and cigarette butts flapped and danced across the road.

  This time with Perry holding the leash he stepped in first, a bell above the door rang.

  The entry was quiet for a dog shelter he assumed dogs would be barking like crazy. The soft white reception area had animal murals strung at eye height. A large glass room took up the outer wall. A sign above the entrance said ‘Nine Lives.’ Smaller glass sections inside were filled with cats, toys and carpet trees. A small reception desk, faced them. Perry pulled Adeline away from ‘Nine Lives.’

  “Hi there can I help you?” a young girl said. As they stood at the counter.

  “Detectives Jefferson and Thompkins here to drop off Adeline,” Perry said.

  “Who?” the girl said.

  “The female pit from animal control, or whatever breed it’s called.”


  “Oh I see, I’ll get someone out here right away.” She pulled up the phone and pressed a button. “If you want to sit down feel free.” She motioned to the brown benches across from a door with the sign reading ‘Office.’

  Adeline stood watching the cats, her head flipping back and forth trying to see each one as it moved. The brown, then the orange, then the cream. She crouched, then stood, her stub wagged as a ginger cat jumped up and then spun flipping around the U bend of the cat tree. A second later she rolled on her back to imitate the cat… exposing even more scars and cuts. Perry’s smile dropped.

  Marshall petted her, “glad that isn’t me,” he said.

  Perry felt a shiver go down his spine wondering how his brother could do this. Eddie needs to get his ass kicked.

  He focused on the door, he wanted someone to come out… take her, get her away. His eyes moved slowly to a mural of a yellow dog above the door, a Golden Retriever. The door opened and a young man stepped out, his light brown hair hung loose around his head stopping just above his eyes. His body, like his face was thin. His nose looked like it’d been broken at least once.

  Adeline looked over her shoulder then quickly jumped to her feet and growled at him. The man walked forward hesitantly.

  “Detectives, thank you for bringing her in, I’m James,” he said. Adeline barked. Instinct it seemed caused him to hesitate. “I was hoping I’d see the nice doctor.”

  “Marshall,” his partner said standing and reaching out his hand eagerly, as if trying to befriend him.

  “Detective Jefferson,” Perry said. James looked familiar, but he couldn’t place him.

  “We have Adeline here from animal control,” Marshall said, Adeline’s leash was taut, like she was going to leap and kill this guy.

  “Renee told me you’d be dropping him off,” James said, Perry noticed a Milwaukee Firefighter emblem on the top left of his shirt. Must’ve seen him at some public function.

  “She was calm all the way here,” Marshall said holding tight to the leash.

  “Well, dogs can be funny that way; they’ll love people to death then for some reason not like some random stranger… I had a dog who loved everyone once, but a neighbor who he’d never actually met.”