Threes, Sixes & Thieves

by Cosgrove, Julie B;

  Blake saluted, and Janie chuckled. They both watched her exit.

  “I knew she’d calm down.”

  “I wouldn’t say you’re in the clear, yet.” Janie switched her focus to Blake’s face. “Well?” She waggled her finger. “And don’t parrot back, ‘deep subject’. That joke is as tired as I feel at the moment.”

  “I could come back in the morning.” He jokingly half spun to leave the room.

  “Get back here, Blake Johnson. Read me in on the details.”

  He sat down. “Where to begin? Arnie Jacobson and Joe Balantini were academy buddies with Mitch. The three of them out-shined everyone else, but they also got into a lot of shenanigans. Mild pranks, cockiness, that sort of thing. Someone with an abundance of stupidity placed them in the same precinct, number six, in Houston. That only increased the camaraderie and high jinks. They became known as the Threes Sixes. A jab, referencing the Biblical connotation for their devilish doings.”

  Her eyes widened. “Threes and sixes.”

  “Right. That’s what clued both Mitch and I in on the possibility they were involved in a vendetta against Holden. Mitch had shared some of their rookie stories with me. Since everyone knew them as the Three Sixes, it became a sign between them.”

  “So you added two and two, or should I say threes and sixes, and came up with them as the suspects.” Janie flashed him a smirk.

  “Well, yes. That and your description of the hooded man. Fit Joe to a T.”

  “And Arnie had sandy hair.”

  “Correct. Once we figured the hooded man was Joe, the Grayson plain-clothed cop Amos depicted with dark blond hair had to have been Arnie. We began to put two and two together as soon as Mitch returned. He figured they acted on a skewed sense of loyalty and hoped he could get them to confess it to him, but neither would return his calls. Now we know why Joe never did. Poor chump.”

  “Are you saying they set Holden up to do the robberies?”

  “Uh, huh. Then nailed him.”

  “Execution style. The third bullet. Joe fired it, not Phil.”

  Blake smiled and tapped her forehead. “Those brain cells of yours didn’t get scrambled after all.”

  “So, the hooded man, Joe, was the other cop we saw. But why kill Wellington? Or was that suicide?”

  “No, definitely murder. “

  “I thought so as well. Somehow it just didn’t fit that the poor kid would do it.”

  “Exactly. Besides, we check those cells pretty thoroughly to make sure there are no objects that could become potential death instruments. Pat down the prisoners as well. Amos is too thorough a cop to slip up like that, no matter what the circumstances. The mysterious ace bandage, which had no record of being applied at the hospital, didn’t jibe either. Someone had to have brought it into the jail in hopes we’d think it came from Wellington’s treatment in Mercy Memorial.”

  “I see.” Janie’s eyes became brighter. “But of course it didn’t. They only use white ones, not the flesh colored ones. I remember that now from all those years I volunteered there.”

  “Now how did you know what color Wellington…? Never mind. I don’t want to know.” Blake let out a sigh. “Besides, Amos identified Arnie as the supposed officer who arrived at the jail. That pretty much tied it up with a bow. We believe Arnie mis-aimed in the woods so he only got Wellington in the leg. He pretended to be a Grayson cop. Flashed his badge, but Amos couldn’t really see it in the dark. He figured Arnie told the truth about who he said he was.”

  “But, I don’t understand why Arnie wanted to tag along.”

  “At first he didn’t. He wanted to drag Wellington back to Grayson and probably planned on eliminating him on the way, but Amos insisted it be Alamoville’s collar. That left Arnie no choice.”

  “Because they arrested him on your turf.”

  “Right. Amos figures Arnie overheard them grousing about the jail situation...”

  Janie held up her hand. “Wait. What situation?”

  “Never mind.” Blake shook his head. “Not important. We suspect Arnie may have drugged Amos so he could slip in and kill Wellington. Of course we have no proof since Amos admits to being overtired. But Amos is a good cop. I honestly can’t see him nodding off on the job, and how would Arnie know he would unless he did drug him?”

  “Hmm. There is still one thing I don’t get, Blake. Why did Arnie think he needed to kill Wellington?”

  “I imagine Arnie worried the kid would freak out once arrested and squeal.”

  “And expose them. Next, Arnie kills Joe because he thought he’d finger him and Jonathan in order to plea bargain?”

  Blake shrugged. “We’ll never truly know, but it seems logical. Before he moved to Austin and went on beat, Jonathan knew the Three Sixes in Houston. He’s not saying, but Mitch figures he was the mastermind. Mitch knew Joe and Arnie, and quite frankly didn’t figure either of them had the smarts to think all of this up.”

  Janie played with the fringe of her hospital blanket. Her voice lowered. “Gates snapped, didn’t he?”

  Blake rocked back. “Yeah. It happens. He’d seen too much over his career in Austin. Moved to Alamoville to what he hoped would be a cushy job until he retired in a few years. After Mitch was taken down, and the glitch in the arrest sequence acquitted Holden, Jonathan took the law into his own hands. He plotted it all out and rallied the other two in the get-even game.”

  “Was it Joe in the river or in the burned-out car?”

  “Forensics has identified the victim in the car with his dental records. A Desert Storm Vet with severe PTSD. One of the many homeless ones who never got over the price of serving our country.”

  Janie closed her eyes and slowly nodded. “So sad. The Three Sixes have thrown their last dice. Game over.” She thought back to her dream of the three men in ninja black by Westwood Creek. The symbolism gave her the shivers. Arnie had threatened to kill her like the one who put a knife to her neck. Gates had snatched her almost teenage-like idea of romance, thus the ice cream cone. But Joe abducting her cat? Oh well, maybe it didn’t all fit nicely. Even so, in both incidences there had been three bad guys after all.

  For a moment, the room stilled. Then Janie sighed. “Joe’s the floater, then.”

  Blake sat more erect. “According to Jonathon, he thinks Arnie killed Joe because Joe screwed up. He went rogue when he shot Holden. Their plan was to catch him burglarizing, and this time, make the arrest stick.”

  Janie sighed. “So, who did Mitch meet in the alley?”

  “I read the notes in Mitch’s phone. Arnie slithered into a charity shelter where he’d been laying low as a bum on Austin’s streets. Thought he’d stay invisible I guess.”

  “Hmm. There are plenty of them there.”

  “Yeah. A homeless man, who’s been an informant for us and the APD lots of times got a glimpse of a matchbook message Arnie had and thought someone should know about it. The dude thought it was a drug deal. Turned out to be the meeting instructions between Arnie and Gates.”

  “What a snake.”

  Blake swallowed hard. “Jonathan says he was going to try and persuade Arnie to turn himself in for the murders of Wellington, Joe, and another homeless man in Austin. Then you and Mitch showed up.”

  “Oh, right. Who’s going to believe that one?”

  Blake scoffed. “That’s the song he’s singing. He discovered the two were plotting it all out and began his own investigation. Trying to save Mitch grief and protect two of his blue brothers.”

  “Will they believe him?”

  Blake smiled. “Well, there’s one glitch. Jonathan withdrew thirty thousand from his pension fund. He claims he was going to invest it.”

  “Of course.” Janie rolled her eyes.

  “We discovered he began withdrawing bits and pieces out of his bank account via electronic deposit. We’ve yet to find what happened to those funds. The Feds have resources we don’t, though.”

  “Are we positive it went to Arnie and Joe?”
>
  “Not definitively. Arnie had some cash sewn into the lining of his pants. When we subtract that from the amount he mailed to his wife along with divorce papers, it adds up to almost half the amount Gates withdrew. The rest probably went to Arnie’s bookies. He had a weakness for that sort of thing. Bottom line, Arnie planned to disappear with both his and Joe’s cut.”

  “Thanks for telling me, Blake. You’re a good man.” She reached over and squeezed his forearm.

  He leaned in. “Janie, I should throw the book at you. Impeding an investigation is a serious thing.”

  She waggled her finger. “Jonathan commissioned me, remember?”

  Blake sat back and folded his arms over his chest. “Yeah, and wooed you as well. With my permission, I might add.”

  She arched one eyebrow. “Really? He asked your permission? The ol’ charmer.”

  “All to control you and keep you out of the way.”

  “He didn’t know me very well.”

  Blake grinned. “Guess not.”

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  The next morning, Janie left the hospital―for the second time that month. Melody drove her home. When they opened the door, eleven women screamed, “Surprise!”

  Janie jolted, and threw her hand to her mouth. Melody hugged her from behind and then ushered her inside. Vases of roses dotted the living room and get well cards lined the coffee table. A spread of her favorite foods waited in the dining room.

  Janie could barely take it all in. She wiped a tear from her cheek. “Y’all are something else.”

  They led her to her favorite reading chair and waited on her hand and foot. With a tumbler of cold lemonade perched on the coaster and a plate full of food on her lap, she opened each get well card, read it, and smiled. “Thank you. Each of you. I’m so blessed to have so many wonderful friends.”

  After an hour, Melody herded the Bunco biddies out, stating Janie needed her recuperative rest. Janie motioned Betsy Ann to stay. “I have an apology to make to you.”

  Ethel waved good-bye and closed the door.

  Betsy Ann sat on the couch. “Whatever for?”

  Melody took the cue. “Mom, I’m going to put fresh sheets on your bed. Back in a few.”

  “Thanks, Mel. I appreciate that.”

  She hobbled over to the sofa and sat next to her dear friend. “I’ve been jealous of you and George.”

  Betsy Ann took her hand. “I understand. He has sort of butted in. You and I don’t see as much of each other, do we?”

  “It’s more than that. I am envious of what you two have. I miss having it myself.” Her voice quivered. “When Jonathan started courting me, at first I resisted. Then I realized how much I relished having a man put me on a pedestal.”

  “I’m so sorry. What a shock to discover he had gone to the dark side.”

  Janie gazed at Betsy Ann through shimmery eyes. “I’m afraid he bruised my heart.”

  Betsy Ann handed her a tissue. “I know. So, this probably isn’t the best time to tell you. But as you’re my best friend, I wanted you to find out before anyone else.”

  “What?”

  Betsy Ann’s cheeks blushed. She dug into her skirt pocket and pulled out a ring. She slipped the diamond setting on her left finger. “He proposed last night—after we learned you were all right, of course.”

  Janie squealed and drew her into a hug.

  Melody dashed back into the living room, a pillow halfway into a pillow case. “Mom! What is it?”

  She flashed her daughter a huge, eye-twinkling smile. “A wedding in our future. Betsy Ann and George. Isn’t that grand?”

  Mel raised her hand to her open mouth as tears of joy etched the edges of her eyelids.

  Janie clutched her hands together. “Oh my. Have you set a date? We need to decide on so many things. Catering. Antonio’s would be the only one I would choose. It will be held at the church, right?” She began to wave her hands like a lopsided helicopter blade and continued chattering. “I think a sunset affair...”

  Betsy Ann motioned to Melody. She cupped her hand to her mouth and pointed. “She’s back.”

  Melody bent to her ear and whispered. “Yes. Now, I know she’s all right.”

  They both shook their heads and laughed.

  BIOGRAPHY

  Julie B Cosgrove is a missionary – her mission field is the internet as a Christian editor and writer for Power to Change-The Life Project, a division of Campus Crusades Canada, reaching over a half million readers a month. “The world in on the internet, we help them know Jesus.” Her salary is solely supported through donations.

  She writes regularly to several Christian websites and publications. Awarded as “One of 50 Great Writers You Should Read” in 2015 and 2016, Best Religious Fiction 2016, and Best Cozy Mystery 2017, she is also an INSPY semifinalist and Grace Award finalist. Julie has authored six nonfiction works and eleven fictional works with several more under contract over the next eighteen months. She is an active member in The Christian Authors Network, American Christian Fiction Writers, DFW Ready Writers, and the Texas Association of Authors.

  When she isn’t writing mystery and suspense, she is reading it or watching it, especially British mysteries. Julie lives with two cats in Fort Worth, Texas, and loves to spend restful time at her family’s cabin overlooking the river in the Texas Hill Country, where she first drew closer to God.

  Visit her website at www.juliebcosgrove.com and her blog entitled Where Did You Find God Today?

  OTHER NOVELS

  Dumpster Dicing

  As Janie and Betsy Ann go for their morning jog, they watch the city sanitation truck follow its normal five-mile Tuesday morning route through their retirement community of Sunset Acres. At the club house, the Bunco biddies notice a leg dangling out of the dumpster when the truck lifts the trash container high in the air to flip it. The women scream for it to stop. As they do, an arm, then a head drops into the sanitation vehicle. Someone has diced up one of their new residents— a grouchy loner named Edwin Newman. No one had seen him since he moved in the previous Friday. Could it be he unpacked too much of his dicey past?

  Baby Bunco

  After the cleaning service readies Mr. Newman’s garden home for lease, Janie’s friend Roseanne is stopped by a real estate agent with a screeching bundle in her arms— a newborn baby! One of the cleaning crew admits the child belonged to her sister, who died of a drug overdose in the back alley behind a convenient store near the entrance to Sunset Acres. She left the baby in the vacant house because she couldn’t care for her. But the score doesn’t add up. No one knew this maid had a sister. So, why did she lie about the corpse’s identity? Could this be the birth of a new crime wave in Alamoville?

  ‘Til Dice Do Us Part (2018)

  The Bunco Biddies are throwing a wedding shower at the recreation center of Sunset Acres. A fall from a ladder while decorating makes Ethel privy to a crime confession through the curtains of the emergency room unit next to hers. But records show nobody was treated in that bed during her stay. Did the pain killers make her delusional or is something dicey going on at Mercy Memorial Hospital?

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