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“What’s up?” she asked.
“I’ve been thinking about your situation.”
“What situation is that?”
“Your education, or lack thereof.”
“Nooo, I don’t want to get into that tonight,” she said.
“Hear me out,” I pleaded. “I was thinking you should go to college.”
Anna scoffed. “Bad idea.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I’m too old, I don’t have the money, and I’m too stupid.”
“I disagree on all three of those. First off, you’re not stupid. In fact, I think you’re rather intelligent, you simply lack a formal education to talk about things like Plato and other nonsense. Second, you’re not too old. Hell, you’re only what, twenty-three?”
“You’re forgetting about money,” she pointed out.
“No, I’m not. I’ll pay for it.”
Anna looked at me like I was playing a cruel joke on her. “Stop messing with me.”
“I’m being serious,” I said.
Now, her eyes widened. “Why would you do something like that, Thomas?” she asked quietly.
“Oh, that part’s easy. It’s a given that I’ll never have kids, so, when I get old, I’m going to need somebody to be a live-in caregiver. You know, feed me and change my diaper. So, I look at this as an investment.”
She tried not to but couldn’t help herself and burst out into laughter. “You’re an ass sometimes.”
I smiled. “Yeah, sometimes.” I finished my drink and handed her my empty glass. “Think about it. Now, get out of here, I’m going to bed.”
Chapter 7
I took a relaxing hot shower before going to bed, but even so, I tossed and turned all night. I found myself continually waking up and looking over at the digital clock on the nightstand before trying to will myself back to sleep. Finally, when the clock read five, I gave up and threw the covers off.
I walked over to the window and opened the blinds. The sky was starting to turn gray. It looked like we were going to have a pleasant, sunny day. I decided a morning jog in the crisp air might do me some good.
I snuck by Marti, who was sleeping on the couch, went outside, and after a couple of minutes of stretching, started off at a slow gait, an old man’s pace. It got the blood going and gave me time to think about things and try to work out the stress. One would think I didn’t have a care in the world. With the recent settlement of the lawsuit against the city of Nashville, I was financially secure for the rest of my natural life, and I’m the first to admit, after all of the troubles last year, my life was good. More than good. But that wasn’t how my brain worked.
I had a bad habit of overly worrying about things. I know, a shrink would have a heyday with me, but that’s how I was. I worried about Ronald. I worried about Anna. Sometimes I even worried about myself. Now, I was worrying about Joseph and the mysterious death of his brother. It was pure luck that I found Jason. At least, I kept telling myself that. Ever since the senseless murder of Simone and her daughter, I had lost a lot of faith in God. Even so, there was that nagging feeling, borne of a Catholic upbringing, that God had perhaps nudged me in the right direction, leading me to find Jason when others had failed.
My breathing was good and the muscles had loosened up, so I decided to push myself and quickened my pace. The cool morning air felt good and there was a not unpleasant burn in my lungs. I imagined my body expelling accumulated cigar smoke. I was currently running easterly, which gave me a scenic view of a beautiful sunrise. It was invigorating and helped me focus, mostly on Jason’s case. I went through a long list of questions about the case and what role, if any, I had in pursuing the investigation.
I also thought about my business. I’d had more than a couple phone calls and emails from prospective clients. One of them even had the potential for a lucrative payday, but they wanted me to jump on the case immediately. It’d be easy to end my investigation on Jason’s murder and move on.
The increase of my caseload also made me think about Mister CIA agent’s offer. Should I hire more people? I turned my head and spit. If I were to hire anyone, it would not be him. Even if half of what he bragged about were true, he would not be a good fit for my little group of sleuths.
I finished my run at the head of my driveway and did a slow cool-down walk. The run had had the desired effect and I had reached a decision. I finished up by knocking out pushups until my arms became wobbly. After some stretching, I went inside, found my phone, and texted Joseph Belew.
I hope you’re holding up okay. I have not committed a full week on your case and you are due a partial refund. Send me a text of a date and time of your convenience where I can meet with you. And, if you need to talk, I’m available.
I hit send, set the phone down, and quietly prepped the coffee pot. My phone buzzed within a minute. The table amplified the noise, causing Marti to stir. She sat up, saw me, and gave a tired smile. Even though I thought Anna was prettier, I had to admit, Marti was nothing to scoff at.
“Good morning,” I said. “The coffee’s almost ready.”
She stretched, purposely straining her breasts against her shirt. “What time is it?”
“A little after six,” I replied.
“Holy shit, you get up early,” she said and pulled the blanket off her. I couldn’t help but notice she had stripped out of her pants and was only wearing a pair of panties that hardly hid anything. I quickly looked away and walked over to the coffee pot.
“Can I use your restroom?” she asked. “I don’t want to wake Anna.”
“Sure,” I said, hoping she didn’t help herself to my toothbrush. She got her purse off the coffee table and disappeared into my bedroom.
I poured myself a steaming mug and heard the sound of an incoming text. I grabbed my phone and stared at the screen.
This is Jenna. Joe had a rough night and he’s finally sleeping. Thank you for everything you’ve done. When he wakes up, I’ll relay the message, but I think he’d like you to stick with it and try to solve his brother’s murder.
So, there it was. I was kind of hoping for this response. If I walked away from this case, it would bother me for years to come. I texted back immediately.
I’ll gladly do so, if this is what he wants. Please have him call or text with his decision. Thanks.
As soon as I hit send, my phone pinged, indicating someone was coming up the driveway. Activating my camera, I saw Percy’s Toyota. I had a mug of coffee waiting for him when he walked in the back door.
“I figured you’d be awake,” he said. He was wearing khaki slacks, a dark blue Polo shirt which was tight in the shoulders and loose in the waist, and brushed suede loafers. I grunted. The man could wear anything and still ooze machismo.
“Are you working today?” I asked.
“Nope, I have a rare weekend off. Thought I’d come visit my buddies.” He then added a little wistfully. “The house is mostly empty these days.”
“You’re always welcome. Anna is still asleep, but she’ll be up soon. How’s it going at work?” I asked when he’d sat.
“Same old, same old,” he said and sipped some coffee. “At the moment, I’m still Bartlett’s golden boy, so I guess I’m doing okay. At the moment, he’s assigned me to a few cold cases and some missing person cases. He told me to work diligently on them, but keep myself available in case he needed me for something hot.”
I grunted in understanding. Sory Bartlett was the commander of the Office of Professional Accountability up until six months ago when he was transferred to run the Criminal Investigations Division. While leading the rat squad, he’d directed more than one internal investigation against Percy. When he was transferred to CID, he became Percy’s boss, which, as one can imagine, did not sit well with Percy.
However, after my incident with the rogue officers, Bartlett got an inside look at his skills and decided Detective Percy Trotter was an asset rather than a problem child. Percy was not completely convi
nced of whether Bartlett was sincere or if he had ulterior motives and remained suspicious. Either way, I was happy for Percy. He was finally being recognized for his investigative acumen and no longer being spied upon. At least, not as far as I knew.
While we were sitting at the kitchen table, Marti walked out of my bedroom, still clad in nothing but a T-shirt and panties and stopped short when she saw Percy.
“Marti, this is Percy. Percy, this is Anna’s friend, Marti,” I said, wondering if he was inferring something when he saw her emerge from my bedroom.
“Holy shit, you’re even bigger than Thomas,” she said, looking him up and down.
“I’m pleased to meet you,” he said while trying hard not to stare.
Anna soon walked out of her bedroom wearing her oversized bathrobe and headed straight for her tea kettle. Filling it with water and placing it on the stove eye, she gave us all a baleful look.
“Why are we up so early?” she asked.
“Because it’s a beautiful day out,” I replied with a grin.
She responded by shaking her head in mock disgust and looked at Marti.
“Put some pants on,” she admonished and disappeared back into her bedroom. Marti grinned at us before following Anna.
“How’s your daughter?” I asked. Percy had recently reunited with a long-lost daughter he did not know existed.
“She’s fine. She prefers texting instead of actually talking. Typical teenager, I guess. We’ve discussed the idea of her coming here to live.”
“Oh, yeah? That’d be awesome,” I said.
Percy gave a combination of a slight grin and frown. “I have no idea how to be a dad to a teenage girl, so your idea of awesome is subjective.”
We were on our second cup of coffee when Anna walked out. She was freshly showered, wearing jeans and a Preds jersey. The same style of jersey Jason had been wearing the night he was killed. It even had the same player’s name on the back. She sat down, took a sip of tea, and began brushing her damp hair.
“Marti thinks you’re handsome,” she said to Percy. Percy glanced at me. I quickly replied.
“Nope, she and I are not an item. She slept on the couch last night. When you saw her coming out of my bedroom, she didn’t want to wake up Anna, so she used my restroom.”
“Oh,” Percy said.
“She’s also got it in her head she’d like to be a PI,” Anna said.
I responded with a, “Hmm.”
“What does that mean?” Anna asked.
“I’ve been thinking it over lately, and we could probably use another person. We’ve turned away more than one case because we were working other cases.”
“Is that something you want to do?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I’ve been mentally crunching the numbers. It’s doable, I think.”
Anna nodded thoughtfully and then a smile crept across her face.
“How do you think Ronald would react if you hired her?”
I chuckled, but then I realized something. “Speaking of Ronald, I haven’t talked to him in a couple of days. Have you?”
Anna’s brow furrowed. “No. You two talk every day, don’t you?”
“More or less.” I picked up my phone and called him. It went to voicemail. “Hmm. I wonder if he’s engrossed in one of his online games. I’ll go pay him a visit later.” I turned to Percy. “Say, I’m glad you’re here. What do you know of underground fight rings operating around here?” I asked.
He thought about it a moment as he drank his coffee. “There used to be a professional wrestling promoter who occasionally had what they called tough guy tournaments. He knew everyone in the racket, but that was several years back and he’s retired. Hell, he might even be dead, but I can try to look him up if you’d like. What’ve you got going on?”
He listened quietly as I laid out Jason Belew’s case.
“Do you know who was running the fight?” he asked.
“Somebody who goes by the nickname of Candy-Man.”
“Hmm,” he said. “I’m not familiar with that name, but let’s check.”
Percy stood and went to his car. He returned a moment later carrying his department-issued laptop. He resumed his seat, booted it up, and logged on to the police website.
“Something tells me Ronald has the ability to hack into our police portal,” he remarked as he typed.
“I can neither deny nor affirm,” I said.
Percy gave a small grunt. “There are different databases within the portal which require additional passwords that have to be a minimum sixteen characters. This one is linked to the Integrated Criminal Justice Portal, which is also linked to a portal called DI3.”
“I remember the name of that one…let’s see, the Tennessee Drug Intelligence Integration System,” I said.
“Yep, you always did have a pretty good memory,” Percy said and then paused. “Did you know Poston has been going around telling everyone he has a photographic memory?”
“Yeah, I’d heard that,” I said. “I’m calling bullshit.”
“Me too.” Percy didn’t like Poston either. He did some typing and then dragged his finger along the touchscreen a couple of times, and then pointed at a list of names on the screen. After a couple of minutes, he gestured at the screen.
“You have six individuals on the database who live in the mid-state area with the nickname of either Candy or Candy-Man,” he said and pointed at each line. “Those are their real names, but I’m afraid I cannot go any further.”
“Why not?” Anna asked.
“If I click on a specific name, I have to associate it with an active investigation, and if they ask, I must be able to show the corroborating case. They perform random audits and if I cannot show a reason for searching a specific person’s information, I could face disciplinary action, including possible criminal charges. Sorry.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, we can’t have that.”
“No problem,” I said, pulled out a pen, and wrote the names on the palm of my hand. I then called Ronald again, but once again only got his voicemail. I left him a message and then texted him the information.
“Does he really have access to these databases?” Percy asked.
“I’m not sure about those specific portals, but the good thing about people under forty these days, almost all of them are active on social media. Ronald will search those first. He says it’s much easier.”
“And legal,” Percy added. “Good.”
I sipped my coffee and waited for Ronald to call back. After ten minutes, I became concerned and tried calling him again. Once again, it went straight to voicemail. It was unlike him. Even when he was sound asleep or playing one of his games, he always answered or called back within minutes. Always. Damned odd. Anna must have seen the consternation on my face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Ronald didn’t answer.” I couldn’t say why, but my gut told me something was wrong. I stood. “I think I’m going to go over to his house and see what’s going on.”
Percy stood as well. “I’ve never seen the boy-wonder’s computer set up, do you think he’d mind showing it to me?”
“Of course, he likes you, even though he’s a little intimidated by you,” I said.
“I want to go too,” Anna instantly said.
“Sure. Marti, do you want to go too?” I asked.
She smiled. “I’d love to, but I’m opening today and have to be there at eleven. I’m working at Edgefield bar now,” she said. “It sucks, but it’s a job until I find something better.”
“Alright, I’m going to grab a shower,” I said.
When I’d cleaned up, I walked out to find Percy and Anna were still on the porch, engaging in quiet conversation. They stopped and stared curiously when I walked outside.
“I’m ready if you guys are,” I said. They stood in unison.
“Which car are we taking?” Anna asked, and then grinned. “I know, let’s take your new car. I want to drive.”
“You know the position of the seat, mirrors, and steering wheel are programmable to individual drivers,” she said. “You can set it to your specifications and change it back after someone else has driven it.”
I glanced back at Percy, who nodded in agreement. I spent the rest of the ride reading that particular section in the owner’s manual.
There was a strange car parked in Ronald’s driveway. It was a rough-looking, older model Ford Taurus, and I noticed it had out-of-state tags.
“He’s got company,” Anna observed. “That’s unusual.”
Ronald answered after we’d rang the doorbell several times, but he only partially opened the door and peeked out.
“Hi cutie,” Anna said and started to walk in, but Ronald did not open the door. Instead, he kept her from entering. She took a step back and frowned.
“What’s wrong, Ronald?” I asked.
“Uh, nothing,” he stammered.
Anna gasped in mock surprise. “Do you have a woman in there?”
I expected him to blush in embarrassment, but instead, he looked down at his shoes and refused to answer or make eye contact. Percy gave me a questioning stare, which activated my brain.
“What’s going on here, Ronald?” I asked.
When he didn’t answer, I pushed past him and walked in. There were three of them sitting in the den, two men and a woman. They all had that rough, trailer park trash kind of look. Instead of saying hello or asking who we were, they stared at us sullenly. I guess they either forgot about the glass pipe sitting on the coffee table or they didn’t care.
“Who the hell are you people?” I demanded.
One of the men was a few years older than the other two. He was also bigger and harder looking. He had a pockmarked face and lots of shitty tattoos, including a couple of teardrops along the side of his cheek.
“Who the hell are you?” he retorted.
“Yeah, okay. You three have ten seconds to get the hell out of here.”