Ray heard a car approaching and he turned as it stopped in front of the Rothstein house. The lights were extinguished and then the engine shut off. Ray tried to see through the breaks in the hedge but it was pretty thick.
He heard two doors open and then saw a pair of legs walk around the front of the car and join another pair at the passenger side. They paused.
Ray shifted to get a better view and saw two men pull ski masks over their heads as they made their way for the door to his left.
Shit. What the hell is this?
The first guy, the bigger of the two, kicked in the door and proceeded into the house without hesitation. The smaller one followed right behind.
Ray turned to the window and saw Mary Beth and her lover react. The guy jumped up with his junk hanging out and started to move for his clothes. The door to the bedroom burst open and both masked men rushed in with pistols in their hands. Mary Beth screamed.
Masked man one pointed his gun at lover boy and pulled the trigger. Masked man two unloaded into Mary Beth, still lying naked on the bed. Ray gasped as he watched the killers expel their full magazines into the two lovers, Mary Beth’s screams cutoff in mid-vocalization.
Silence returned and Ray watched stunned as the two men ransacked the room. He couldn’t see everything because of his limited view, but he could tell one gunman removed some items from a drawer and the other grabbed the television that was sitting on a stand by the dresser. They turned and left quickly.
Ray pulled his camera up to his face and tried to take a picture of the retreating killers, but all he got was a shot of the smaller one’s back. He heard them run out the front door and he twisted to get a shot of them leaving, but he forgot the night vision was now off and got only vague dark images of legs and shrubbery.
The men jumped in the car, tossing the TV into the back seat, and sped off. It had taken less than two minutes for them to enter the house, shoot Mary Beth and her lover, ransack the room and leave with a small booty. Ray wasn’t even sure if he breathed during the whole episode.
He turned back and peered inside. Mary Beth and her lover lay in their own pools of blood, motionless.
“Shit.” Ray said under his breath and ran into the house.
He found his way to the master bedroom and went straight to the man lying on the floor. He knelt in the guy’s blood and felt for a pulse. Nothing. He stepped to the bed and saw that Mary Beth was still alive.
“Hold on. I’m calling an ambulance.”
She reached for him and then her eyes glazed over.
“No, no, no. Come on. Stay with me.”
Ray pulled his phone out and made the call. When he hung up, he checked her pulse. It didn’t exist. He sat on the bed and looked at the carnage.
“What the hell?”
Chapter 4
Jaxon stared into the mirror and rubbed the graying stubble on his face.
At six feet, four inches and two-hundred and forty pounds, he was still a formidable presence, but age was catching up with him and it showed in his face and hair. Vick wanted him to dye his once brown, short-cropped hair, but he refused. He’d just let the gray happen. Wasn’t it supposed to be distinguished? The brown was still winning, but by only a narrow margin.
His dad had gone completely gray during his fifties, so Jaxon was pretty sure he would follow in his footsteps. But didn’t somebody once tell him it was the maternal side that determined hair longevity and color? His grandfather on his mother’s side had died when he was very young so he had no idea what that would mean for him. As far as Jaxon was concerned, he never even met the man.
He squeezed toothpaste onto his toothbrush and went about the nightly ritual without thinking. His father was on his mind, as he’d been all day, and he was still confused about the strange package.
Vick walked in, squeezed past him into the lavatory and then closed the door behind her. She spoke to him through the door.
“You’re gaining weight.”
He looked at his belly and couldn’t see what she was talking about.
“Where?”
He was proud of his physique and worked hard at keeping the junk food at bay, even though he consumed it daily. He just worked it all off in the gym.
“Your ass is getting big.”
He heard her giggle through the door. He turned sideways to look as he continued brushing his teeth.
“Bullshit,” he said around the toothbrush. “You’re just jealous.”
The toilet flushed and she opened the door and smiled at his posture in the mirror. She smacked him on the rear.
“Yep. It’s getting bigger.”
He grabbed her and pulled her close.
“Well how about I work some of it off?” The toothbrush hung from his mouth and he grinned around it.
She smiled back at him and said, “Finish. I’ll be waiting.”
He let her go and turned to the sink. The night was turning out much better than the day.
His phone rang. “Can you grab that, babe?” he said and rinsed out his toothbrush. It was probably Ray checking in.
“Hello,” she said and he watched her face. The frown lines on her forehead deepened and she sat up in the bed. “Are you alright?”
Jaxon stepped to her, worried now, his night ruined.
“Here, I’ll give the phone to Jaxon.” She held the phone up and said, “It’s Ray. There’s a problem. A big problem.”
* * *
Jaxon pulled into the Rothstein’s neighborhood and parked as close to the house as he could.
He’d never been here before but there was no mistaking whose house was whose. Cops were all over the yard and news vans were blocking the street as the reporters tried to report on rumors. Jaxon knew the vibe. He’d felt it dozens of times.
He stepped from his vehicle and surveyed the house.
Nothing looked unusual about the stone and stucco structure except for the fact it had police tape strung across the yard and neighbors lined up along the sides trying to get a view.
The neighborhood was upscale with carriage lights in every yard and golf cart garages added to every home. The community was not used to this type of attention.
He looked for Ray and found him leaning up against a nondescript black Ford that screamed cop car. He was encircled by Detective Will Tate from the Clay County Sheriff’s Department and a woman Jaxon did not recognize. It looked as if they were grilling him. Ray was gesturing toward the house while the woman talked animatedly to him.
Jaxon walked up to the nearest patrolman and displayed his ID. It didn’t seem to impress him.
“I’m sorry, sir. Clay County Deputies only.”
“I was called by my employee over there.” Jaxon pointed to Ray. “Detective Tate asked for me.”
The patrolman turned toward Ray, Tate and the woman, and then turned back to Jaxon, frowning.
“Stay here.” He walked away and Jaxon waited.
Jaxon knew Tate from the GeoCaching killer who had sent Jaxon, Vick, and Ray on a wild ride all throughout the state of Florida last year in search of a woman the killer had kidnapped and hidden away.
The killer ended up being one of Tate’s buddies and created all kinds of conflict for Jaxon. Tate seemed to fight them during the whole debacle, unable to accept the fact that the psycho was someone he knew.
Jaxon didn’t blame him.
Looking back at the whole thing he could see how Tate would react the way he did. At the time, though, while Jaxon fought exhaustion, booby traps, the clock, and Tate’s reluctance, he had wanted to pound Tate’s face in. Since then, they had come to an understanding and he now respected the man. Sort of.
Tate was about five foot nine, two-hundred pounds, and stood with a stoop that always made him look tired. His black hair was long for a detective’s and he constantly pushed it out of his face. This added to his air of exhaustion. In jeans and a polo shirt, he looked like he’d just come from an evening at Red Lobster with his family.
&nb
sp; The woman Jaxon did not know, and with her brunette hair and perfect posture, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
She stood aggressively, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail that whipped side to side as she argued with Ray about something Jaxon could only guess. Her jeans and white blouse seemed to match Tate’s and Jaxon wondered if they had been at the same function when the call came in. She was definitely a looker; thin with a great build and porcelain skin that glowed in the floodlights.
But she also looked like she had that type A personality which Jaxon associated with the bitches of the world. Maybe he was too quick to judge.
She glanced Jaxon’s way when the patrolman interrupted them and gave Jaxon an irritated look. Great. Maybe his judgment was right on. She left Tate and Ray and approached with the patrolman.
“You’re Jaxon.”
A statement, not a question.
“Yes.”
“Come with me.”
“And you are?” Jaxon asked. She gave him a look.
“Detective Hawks.”
She didn’t offer her hand, just turned and walked back. Jaxon followed silently, studying the tattoos he could see on her left arm.
Ray turned to him as he approached and rolled his eyes. Jaxon could tell he was not having a good night.
Ray had struggled with the P.I. business, yet he still produced results and Jaxon was glad to have him on his team. He knew that problems in his personal life were adding to his difficulties, but Jaxon was willing to cut him some slack. Jaxon had been in similar situations and knew to give the man some space. He hoped he wouldn’t blow a gasket before the light turned on for him.
“Jaxon,” Tate said, extending his hand. “I should have known you’d somehow be involved in this.” He grinned at Jaxon and then turned to Hawks. “This is my new partner, Laurelyn Hawks.”
“We’ve met,” Jaxon said, but reached for her hand anyway. She grasped his with a grip that surprised. She was stronger than he expected.
“They took the camera,” Ray said and Jaxon turned to him.
“Are you alright?”
“No. These two are pissing me off. They’re treating me like I’m the killer. Hell, I called it in.”
Jaxon turned to Tate and said, “What have we got?”
“We’ve got a double homicide. You have an employee who witnessed the killing and we’re conducting an investigation and interrogation. He seems to think we’re picking on him.”
“I’m an ex-cop,” Ray said. “Show some respect.”
“For an ex-cop you showed a blatant disregard for the crime scene,” Hawks said. “You trampled all over evidence and tainted the room.”
“For Christ’s sake, I had to see if they were alive. You’re telling me I should’ve left them for dead?”
“You should have used more caution,” she said.
“Maybe you should live in the real world, lady.”
Jaxon watched her eyes flash and decided he better calm Ray down.
“Can I talk with him for a minute?” Jaxon asked.
Tate nodded. “Don’t wander off. We’re not done with him yet.”
“I want my camera back,” Ray said.
“Come on.” Jaxon grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side.
“She’s a bitch,” Ray said, barely out of earshot, and Jaxon saw her turn toward them. He was positive she heard him.
Jaxon grinned. “But she’s hot.”
Ray stared at him and looked back to her. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Bullshit.”
Ray glanced sideways at him and then grinned.
“Doesn’t matter. She’s still a bitch.”
“You’re probably right, but can you get past it for a bit and relax?”
“Yeah. They rubbed me the wrong way. What’s wrong with these cops? They treat each other like shit. And me too.”
“We’ve been here before, remember? I know full well what this department can be like. We’ll be big boys and try and get along. Ok?”
Ray nodded.
“What happened?” Jaxon asked.
Ray told him the details and Jaxon listened, interested but not shocked. He was concerned there was more to this than what was on the surface, but he’d deal with that later.
“Did you get any clear shots?”
“Of the killers? No. There are some of the wife and the lover.”
“In the act?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Tate took the camera?”
“The woman. Hawks.”
“All right. I’ll see if I can get it back. Can you keep your cool?”
“I’m good now. As long as she doesn’t push my buttons.”
Jaxon walked over to Tate and Hawks with Ray. Tate was on the radio and Jaxon waited.
“What can we do to help?” Jaxon asked when Tate was finished.
“He needs to come down to the station and make a statement,” Tate said.
Ray squirmed a bit, but said nothing.
“I’m sure he’ll cooperate fully with that. Remember, he’s on the good side.”
Tate grinned. “I’m sure he can handle it. He’s a big boy.”
Ray opened his mouth, thought better of it, and shut it.
“What about our camera?” Jaxon asked.
“Confiscated,” Hawks said. “Evidence.”
Jaxon nodded, expecting as much.
“How about we give you copies of whatever is on the memory card. That should be evidence enough for you. The camera is vital to my little operation. Budget and all.”
Hawks looked about to protest, but Tate interrupted. “That will be fine. I’ll return the property to Mr. Maningham here after he’s made a statement and we’ve interviewed him more. Good enough?”
“Fine.” Jaxon said.
“Now, tell me about your client. Benjamin Rothstein.”
“What’s there to tell?” Jaxon said. “He’s a husband who suspected his wife of infidelity. Apparently his suspicions were correct.”
“No doubt,” Tate said. “Anything else we need to know about him?”
“Like what?”
“Would he have his wife and her lover killed?” Hawks said.
“I can’t answer that.”
“You won’t or can’t?” she said.
Jaxon glanced at Ray and then spoke evenly to her.
“Look. I know you’re kind of new at this but I’ll give it to you straight.” She frowned and Jaxon watched Tate smile ever so slightly. “If I were in your shoes, which, actually, I kind of am, I’d be looking at the husband with more than a little interest. But to answer your question, I can’t answer it. You’ll have to ask him.” Jaxon smiled.
She looked about to blow a gasket.
Ray turned away and Jaxon could tell he was trying his best not to laugh.
She stepped toward Jaxon, but Tate put a hand on her arm.
“Do you know where the husband is?” Tate asked.
“No clue. I spoke with him a few days ago, but haven’t had any contact with him since.”
A large SUV suddenly turned the corner at high speed and accelerated toward the house where it braked hard and stopped in the middle of the road. A man jumped out and ran toward the house.
“That’s Rothstein there,” Jaxon said.
As Rothstein approached he shouted, “What the hell is going on?”
Hawks stepped in front of him and held up her badge. “Benjamin Rothstein?”
He glared but stopped in front of her.
“Yeah. That’s me.”
“Your wife and a male companion were killed inside your home an hour ago,” Hawks said without preamble and Jaxon watched Tate shake his head.
Jaxon’s opinion of her changed and he restrained a smile. She was all business. Jaxon had little tact for subtlety in his work either.
Rothstein’s face fell and he deflated in front of them, his mouth hanging open in shock.
“What? What did you say?”
Tate stepped forward.
“We’re very sorry for your loss Mr. Rothstein, but your wife was killed this evening in your home. I apologize for Detective Hawks’ abruptness, but she believes in being direct.”
“No,” Rothstein said. “I don’t believe it.”
“I know it’s hard to accept, but I’m afraid it’s true,” Tate said.
“Oh my God…” Rothstein said, sagging against Tate’s vehicle and running his hand through his hair as it sunk in.
Jaxon watched him closely, as did Tate and Hawks, gauging his reaction.
So far, Jaxon felt the man was responding the way he would expect considering the sudden news. Jaxon had witnessed a lot of guilty people when confronted with news they had intimate knowledge of and most displayed signs that the revelation was not such a big surprise. Some smiled slightly, trying to hide it, others stood stoic trying to regulate their reaction, and then others over did it, putting on an Oscar winning performance that seemed way over the top.
Rothstein seemed genuinely shocked.
“What—what happened?” Rothstein whispered, acting as if he wasn’t sure he wanted the details.
“They were shot multiple times with a handgun at close range,” Hawks said. “The male victim was dead when Mr. Maningham entered the premises and your wife died a few minutes later.”
Tate glared at her and she stopped.
Rothstein turned toward Jaxon and seemed to notice him for the first time.
“Who’s Maningham? Jaxon, did you see it?”
Rothstein stepped away from the car and took a step toward Jaxon, but stumbled as his body failed him. He sank to one knee and Jaxon grabbed his arm.
“No,” Jaxon said. “Ray Maningham, my employee, witnessed it. Ray called me.”
Rothstein fell apart in front of their eyes and sobbed.
“No! This can’t have happened. Who would do this to my Mary?” He looked up with tears in his eyes at Jaxon. “Who would do this?”
“We were hoping you could shed some light on that subject, Mr. Rothstein.” Hawks seemed less cold now and actually put her hand on his shoulder.
Father Figure (A Jaxon Jennings' Detective Mystery Thriller Series, Book 3) Page 2
