Father Figure (A Jaxon Jennings' Detective Mystery Thriller Series, Book 3)

by Richard C. Hale

  “It doesn’t even hurt. I’m coming.”

  Jaxon shrugged.

  “Let’s go then,” and gestured with his hand to his car.

  “We’ll take mine,” she said and moved to the parking lot.

  Ray followed with a shit-eating grin on his face and Jaxon shook his head out of sight of Laurelyn.

  Her car was a new Dodge Challenger SRT with the Hemi. It was black.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you had a car this sexy?” Ray said.

  “I don’t need the car to be sexy,” she said, unlocking the doors.

  “You’re right there,” Ray said.

  “Can you drive this thing?” Jaxon asked.

  “Get in and find out.”

  “I’m seeing a whole new side of you, Laurelyn,” Jaxon said. “I don’t know if I like it.”

  “Your partner does.”

  “He’s my employee.”

  “I would say he shares in the risks you guys take, equally,” she said, starting the car.

  The engine throbbed beneath them and Jaxon could definitely have fun driving this thing.

  “But I get paid better.”

  “You should fix that or you might lose him.”

  Jaxon turned to look at Ray who sat in the back with a smug look on his face. “We’ll see.”

  She backed up and barked the tires pulling out of the parking lot. Jaxon hung on as she took a curve too fast. She seemed to be able to handle the car even with the injury to her hand. She glanced at him and smiled.

  They crossed the river into Mandarin and turned into the Rothstein estate pulling up to the entrance. Ben Rothstein stood waiting on the steps. He seemed surprised to see Laurelyn.

  “Detective,” he said.

  She nodded and followed him into the house. Jaxon noticed Ray appraising her ass in her jeans and t-shirt. Not detective attire, but it was the weekend and she definitely did the jeans justice.

  William Rothstein stood just inside the door, arrogant and angry.

  “Here to harass my son again, I see,” he said. “The Clay County Sheriff’s detective and the private eyes all here together. How nice.” He glared at Laurelyn. “I don’t approve. He needs time to grieve and you people won’t give it to him.”

  Laurelyn started to speak, but Jaxon interrupted her.

  “We’re here to discuss our findings and give our client an update. Nothing more.”

  “Fine. We’re all ears.”

  “You are not our client,” Jaxon said. “It’s privileged information.”

  Jaxon waited to see if Ben would object, but he stood, silent.

  “Anything you have to discuss with my son you can discuss with me.”

  “No. I cannot.”

  William Rothstein looked to his son who would not meet his gaze, and did not object to anything Jaxon said. William pursed his lips and glared at Jaxon.

  “Don’t keep him long.”

  He turned and made his way to some distant part of the estate.

  “This way,” Ben said, guiding them to the same office they were in the other day.

  They all sat in front of the huge picture window and Ben pointed to Laurelyn’s arm.

  “What happened to you Detective?”

  “Bar brawl.”

  Ben’s eyebrows went up, but he didn’t ask more questions.

  “What have you got for me?” He asked Jaxon.

  Jaxon filled him in on the dead friend of Teddy Moore and the sniper who fired on him and Ray. Then, he discussed the visit to Candice O’Neil’s and the revelation that her husband had witnessed the whole thing between Candice and him and had video evidence.

  Ben interrupted. “Oh shit.” He had turned white.

  “This is a good thing,” Jaxon said.

  “How can a sexual tryst with my secretary splashed all over the Internet and news be a good thing?”

  “For one, it’s not going to be spread around, and two, this clears you.”

  Laurelyn was staring at Ray, anger barely below the surface.

  “Why wasn’t I aware of this?” She asked.

  “We hadn’t gotten to it yet,” Ray said.

  She didn’t look happy.

  Ben ignored her. “How can you be sure it’s not going to get out?”

  “I can’t. I have a feeling that the O’Neils will keep it to themselves.”

  Jaxon really didn’t believe what he said, but he wasn’t going to tell Ben that. Sometimes people had to lie in the bed they made and it wasn’t Jaxon’s responsibility to validate their actions. He just didn’t need Ben going all crazy on him over it.

  “So I’m off the hook?”

  “We haven’t made that determination yet,” Laurelyn said.

  “She’s right,” Jaxon said, “but it’s just a formality. Once the information is verified, you’ll be good to go.”

  Laurelyn didn’t look convinced, but kept her silence. Her good mood seemed to be evaporating.

  “I want the copies of that recording,” Ben said.

  “Working on it.”

  “Don’t work on it, Jaxon. Get it from them.”

  Jaxon nodded. He then went into detail of the visit with Jonathon Gunther and Laurelyn glared at Ray again.

  “This is new to me, too,” Ray said.

  “I thought we were working together on this,” she said.

  “We are.”

  “I visited him this morning,” Jaxon said. “I hadn’t had time to go over it with you yet.”

  She looked away, disappointed, and Ray had the same look. This thing that was going on between them might just be a pain in the ass.

  Jaxon left out the visit to the drug warehouse and the crayon connection. He wasn’t ready for Ben to know about that. He concluded by telling Ben they were making good progress and expected some answers for him soon.

  “I want these guys caught. No excuses.”

  “So do we,” Laurelyn said.

  He looked at her. “Do you have anything to add, Detective?”

  She shook her head. “Not that I can discuss at the moment.”

  He dismissed her with a look and stood.

  “Thanks for everything, Jaxon. Keep on it.”

  They shook hands and Ben walked them out. William Rothstein was back and handed Jaxon a packet of papers.

  “This might prove some value Detective,” William said.

  “What is it?” Jaxon asked.

  “Information.”

  Jaxon handed it to Laurelyn who took it in her good hand, surprised.

  “We’ll look it over,” Jaxon said.

  William eyed him, but Jaxon could not guess the meaning. Ben huffed next to him but remained silent.

  “You knew my father,” Jaxon said to William.

  The man’s face sagged briefly then recovered.

  “I did. Naval Academy. Class of ‘60.”

  “Why did you not tell me you knew my family?”

  “I didn’t feel it was pertinent to your employment by my son or your relationship with us.”

  “Apparently you were pretty close at one time.”

  William remained silent for a moment studying Jaxon.

  “We were. But we had a bit of a falling out I’m afraid. It happens sometimes as people move in different directions.”

  “What direction have you moved in, Mr. Rothstein?”

  “The one that was best for me.”

  Jaxon watched his expression. He did not flinch. His eyes seemed to grow stronger, not weaker under Jaxon’s stare.

  “My father passed. Last year.”

  “Yes. I heard. My condolences.”

  Jaxon nodded but could tell it was just words, with no real feeling. He turned to go.

  “Your father was a good man,” William said. “He once saved my life.”

  Jaxon paused and turned to him. “You’ll have to tell me the story one day.”

  William smiled and it surprised Jaxon.

  “I will. Good day Mr. Jennings.”

  “J
axon. Call me Jaxon.”

  William did not acknowledge him one way or another, simply walked to the back of his house.

  * * *

  “You guys have got to start talking to me,” Laurelyn said as they maneuvered down the long driveway in her car.

  “We do,” Jaxon said.

  “When?”

  “You know. When we get the chance.”

  She turned to Ray who was now riding shotgun and frowned at him.

  “I thought we trusted each other,” she said.

  “We do,” Ray said. “I didn’t know about Gunther.”

  “You know what I mean. We’ve been together all night and most of the day and you never found the time to bring me up to speed.”

  “That’s work. We were playing.”

  “Yeah,” she said, turning back to the road. “That was likely a mistake.”

  “Hey. You were in on that decision too.”

  She looked hurt now. “I know. I thought we had a connection. You said we did, or was that some line?”

  “I’m still back here,” Jaxon said.

  “Shut up,” Laurelyn and Ray said in unison.

  He shut up.

  “You couldn’t even trust me enough to let me know what you two have been up to. We’re supposed to be partners. A trust.”

  “I trust you,” Ray said.

  She made a noise Jaxon couldn’t quite decipher. It was “Hmph” or something of that nature.

  “You pulled a psycho chick off my back and sprained your hand protecting me,” Ray said. “I know that might not mean something to you but it was a big deal to me. I’ve never had a woman stand up for me. And I didn’t intentionally mislead you. I was having too good a time to even think about that stuff.”

  She looked at him and stopped the car. She seemed to have softened a bit.

  “Well start thinking about it. If we’re going to be together, I need to trust you. I need you there for me. And that means keeping me in the loop.”

  He reached up and touched her face and Jaxon felt embarrassed.

  “Are we going too fast?” Ray asked.

  “I wonder,” she said, but leaned her head into his touch. “Dammit, Maningham. You make it hard to stay mad at you.”

  “I love it when you call me by my last name.”

  She finally smiled.

  “Still back here,” Jaxon said.

  “Shut up!”

  “All right. Sheesh.”

  She put the car back in gear and pressed the gas pedal. “You guys start talking.”

  “You told me to shut up,” Jaxon said.

  She smiled into the mirror. He interpreted that as a sign he could speak.

  “Crayons,” Jaxon said. “We found the main lab.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. But I don’t think we should shut it down yet.”

  “Why?”

  Jaxon looked left as he talked and saw a dark blue Chevelle muscle car keeping pace with them on the road. He thought nothing of it until it slammed into the side of them.

  “What the hell?” Laurelyn said.

  The Chevelle moved away and then came back at them quickly, crashing into them. The side window in the back of the SRT cracked.

  The window rolled down on the Chevelle’s passenger side and a man in a ski mask pointed a gun at them and fired. It was a big ass gun, a forty-four. The driver’s window next to Laurelyn shattered.

  “Shit!” she said and swerved away from the Chevelle. It matched her and the gun tracked toward them. She slammed on the brakes and the SRT slid sideways a bit before she got it under control.

  “I think that’s the car from the Rothstein murder,” Ray said.

  “Are you sure?” She asked.

  “I think so.”

  The Chevelle was in front of them now and she floored it. It swerved back and forth and she stayed with it, but didn’t get too close. Horns were honking and other cars were veering out of the way as they sped down State Road 13.

  “Get on your cell,” she said. “Call 911 and give them my ID number.”

  She read it off to Jaxon.

  He called it and gave them the information about the pursuit.

  “They’re responding.”

  The Chevelle took a hard right and pulled away from them, its engine screaming. She floored the SRT and was able to keep up with it. Barely.

  A black and white turned in behind them from a shopping center, its lights and siren on and then another from a side street. The Chevelle was starting to pull away and Laurelyn seemed surprised.

  “What the hell is under that hood?” She asked.

  “Rocket engine,” Jaxon said and held on as they took a hard turn.

  Railroad tracks up ahead and Jaxon could see a train coming. It was going to be close.

  “The train,” Jaxon said.

  “I see it.”

  She pressed the pedal to the floor and the SRT gave them a little more.

  The crossing gates were coming down but the Chevelle didn’t slow. It blew through the gates, wood and aluminum flying, the train just missing the rear of the car. Laurelyn had to slam on the brakes and the SRT vibrated as the ABS system kicked in. The nose of the car stopped inches from the train. She cursed and backed up.

  The Chevelle was gone.

  Chapter 12

  Ray drove since Laurelyn’s car was being repaired.

  She hated the fact that her ‘baby’ was in the shop and that some assholes had damaged it, but Ray was just happy she was unhurt.

  The Chevelle had disappeared and though the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office searched for hours, they found nothing. Laurelyn had to stay and fill out paperwork downtown while Ray and Jaxon got a lift to their cars from a local patrolman. The rest of the day had been uneventful.

  Sunday found Ray at Laurelyn’s apartment, early, to pick her up and head to the beach. Everybody needed at least one day off and Jaxon agreed. Time for some R and R.

  Her hand was throbbing a bit, but a tiny blue pill had knocked the edge off and now she was feeling no pain. In fact, she was somewhat intoxicated, and Ray thought it funny.

  The windows were open, the radio on and she sang along with the tune. She smiled continuously.

  “I haven’t been to the beach in so long,” she said. “Thanks for taking me.”

  “Sunscreen. That’s all I have to say. Sunscreen.”

  “I like getting burned.”

  “Not good for you.”

  She laughed.

  “What?”

  “I think I’m the dude and you’re the chick in this relationship.”

  “So it’s a relationship?”

  “Sure. We’re relating, right?”

  “I think we did more than relate.”

  She grinned at him, her hair blowing in the wind, the sun making sections of it glow. He could stare at her all day, but they’d probably end up wrapped around a tree or something. He forced his eyes back on the road as she started singing again. He laughed.

  “Are you laughing at my singing?”

  “No.”

  “Yes you are.”

  “Don’t stop. You’re cute.”

  “I feel so funky.”

  “Have a beer. That will help.”

  She gave him a look. “Trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?”

  He nodded.

  She giggled. “At least you’re honest about it.”

  She wore shorts and a tank top over her bikini and he placed a hand on her bare leg where the sun was warming it. She closed her eyes and smiled. He slid it up higher and rested it just inside her upper thigh. It was smooth and soft. She turned toward him, an inviting look in her eyes.

  “We’re not wasting any time, are we?”

  He shook his head, but didn’t answer. She moved a bit in her seat and it shifted his hand higher. He glanced over at her and her eyes were closed, lips parted. He pressed against her warmth and she moved with him. He slipped a finger between her legs and slowly p
ressed against her. She thrust up slightly, urging him on and he moved the finger in little circles feeling her respond beneath it.

  “You don’t know how good that feels,” she said.

  “I can guess.”

  A flash of blue on the left caught Ray’s eye and he turned.

  Too late.

  The Chevelle slammed into them with such force the wheel was jerked from Ray’s hand and his head banged into the driver’s side window. Laurelyn screamed.

  The Chevelle moved away as Ray shook the stars from his head.

  He grabbed the wheel, correcting back into his lane. The Chevelle came again, slamming into them, but Ray was ready. He held tight, trying to correct to the left, but the Mustang he was driving didn’t have the mass or muscle of the Chevelle. He was being pushed off the road.

  Laurelyn had recovered and shouted. “Brake! Now!”

  Ray slammed on the brakes and the Chevelle shot by, metal screeching on metal as they separated. The Mustang swerved left, recovering, and Ray shifted his foot to the gas, flooring it. The V8 in the Mustang wound up and he gained slightly on the Chevelle, its brake lights coming on then off.

  It tried to get next to them, but Ray maneuvered the Mustang to stay behind it, swerving. The Chevelle accelerated, its engine a rumble even inside the Mustang and it pulled away.

  Laurelyn was on her phone. “Don’t lose them,” she said.

  Ray pressed the gas all the way to the floor and the V8 responded quickly. They passed through 125 MPH and the Chevelle was still pulling away, swerving in and out of traffic.

  “I’m losing them,” he said.

  She ignored him as she relayed her ID number and position to the St. John’s County Sheriff’s office. He could hear her arguing with them over the roar of the engine. It didn’t sound like she was getting through to whoever was on the other end.

  The Chevelle was about four car lengths ahead of them when it cut left in front of a semi and then Ray lost it from view. He came around the semi on the right and the Chevelle was gone.

  He looked in his rear view and saw it come around behind the semi and then accelerate toward them.

  “Shit. They’re behind us again.”

  Laurelyn still had the cell pressed to her ear, but she turned to see the Chevelle gaining rapidly.

  The traffic was getting heavier and Ray was doing his best to stay in front, but he couldn’t keep the gas pedal down as he swerved in and out of the slower cars.