Chapter 7

The first part of this chapter might be humorous to anyone that has ever had a 3 year old.

Chapter 7

 

                Crack. The wall cracked under Jake’s knuckles. He swung again and again, harder and harder until his knuckles bled and the spot on the wall that had fallen victim to his anger was no more. He was infuriated with the thought of the events that had unraveled in the past ten hours. His help: dead, and now he had a small one to watch over. He was now beginning to think that kidnapping Evan’s son was a bad idea because the little runt wouldn’t shut up. First he cried all of the way to the abandoned house he was now hiding in and now all he whined about was how he needed go to the bathroom and how thirsty he was. The boy’s crying and whining was part of what brought on Jake’s anger just a moment ago, and now Michael was crying again because Jake had scared him when he was punching the wall.

                “Will you just shut UP!” Jake screamed at the small boy. But this did Jake no good as Michael just started crying louder. Jake groaned in frustration and picked up the chair the Michael was tied to and slammed it down. That caught Michael’s attention and he quickly stopped crying and stared at Jake’s face- which was inches from his- with a quivering lip. Jake grabbed Michael by the chin and directed their glares at one another.

                “You. Will. Be. Quiet.” Jake said through clenched teeth, emphasizing each word so that Michael would understand him more clearly.

                And in return, a small, quivering voice answered, “Why?”

                “Is that the only word you know?” Jake yelled, standing up and throwing his hands into the air in frustration. Jake had always wanted a family of his own to raise, but now he was rethinking that future.

                “Because,” Jake said again, getting down on Michael’s level “if you don’t, I, will k-“ Jake stopped himself and thought before he spoke. He was starting to learn what to say now as to not make Michael cry. He couldn’t kill anything (which is exactly what he wanted to do at the moment) but the threat had to be good enough to make it believable to Michael.

                “You will what?” asked Michael sadly as he tried to sniff the snot running down his face back into his nose.

                “I will,” Jake thought for a moment before saying “kick your dog. That’s what I’ll do.”

                “But we don’t have a dog.” Michael said, looking a Jake with big tear filled eyes.

                Jake plopped himself down in the chair across from Michael and buried his face in his hands and mumbled, “I know.”

                Jake started to hear Michael’s chair softly rattle on the floor so he looked up from his hands to see what was happening. Michael was squirming back and forth in an attempt to loose the bonds that held him to the chair. He was biting his lower lip and seemed desperate to get out of the chair.

                “What’s your problem now?” Jake asked him.

                “I need to go potty still.” Michael answered.

                “You can hold it. Like I said, we’re leaving in a little bit and you can go then. But for now I have to think.” Jake was wondering what to do with the boy. He had only planned as far as getting in the house and snatching him. But he hadn’t thought of what kind of leverage to use him for.

                “But I’m gonna have an assident!” Michael stated in desperation.

                “You can hold it.” Jake said again.

                “No I-“ Michael started to say but Jake cut him off.

                “Yes you can, Michael!” Jake retorted. Behind Michael there in the front room of the house, Jake saw through the window a police cruiser roll by the house. The cruiser seemed to be going more of a leisurely pace but Jake got up and went and peered out of the window from behind the curtain just to be sure.

                As he was looking out of the window on the cruiser as it rolled down the street, Jake heard the sound of dripping on a carpet coming from behind him. He slowly turned his head and looked at Michael, half of him knowing what just happened, and the other half hoping he was completely wrong. Michael, who’s head was bowed, said in a small, matter-of-fact voice, “I told you I was gonna have a assident.”

                Jake groaned and slid down the wall. He rested his arms on his knees and hung his head between his arms. As he sat there listening to Michael tell him that Jake needed to clean him up now and put him in the bath like mommy does, he heard the faint sound of a car stopping outside. He had just parked the car he stole from the man on the highway in the driveway. He knew that usually, the best place to hide something was in plain sight and usually this worked. That’s how he escaped prison. But as he peered through out of the bottom of the window over his shoulder, he watched the officer get out of his cruiser, and slowly walk over to the car in the driveway.

                And, it seemed as though right on some twisted ironic queue, Michael started crying again.

 

***

 

                Scott sat in Gordo’s Sup and Pub enjoying the hot pastrami melt he had been day dreaming about earlier when his pocket started ringing again. He pulled it out to see who it was. There were only two people he answered the phone for on his lunch break: the department captain and whoever his current girlfriend was at the time. And only then if it was at the beginning of his lunch break and she lived close enough for him to run over to her place for a quickie. Otherwise, his lunch remained for just that; his food and a mid-day escape from the stresses of his job.

                The call was coming from one of the lab technicians, so he silenced the call and continued eating.

Gordo saw from his place behind the counter where he made the sandwiches that the expression on his best customer’s face was weary, more so today than most other days. He lumbered from behind the grill over to the booth that Scott was sitting in and slid into the bench across from Scott.

                Scott guessed that Gordo weighed well over 400 pounds. He knew he was 47 years old and he was from Georgia. Otherwise Gordo was a complete mystery to Scott. Gordo had brought two pints of his own home brewed beer and slid one gently across the table to Scott.

                “Some’m’s  got your jimmies rustl’d today, don’ it?” Gordo huffed out as he was slightly outta breath from the walk over to Scott’s booth. They were the only two in the shop at the moment.

                “Oh come on Gordo. You know I don’t do work on my lunch.”

                “ ‘Cept when it’s some young dame, huh?” Gordo said with a laugh.

                Scott shook his head and smiled at Gordo while he laughed at his own joke. Scott looked out the window over his pint of beer while Gordo finished laughing. The truth is, is that Gordo helped Scott solve most of his cases. Gordo loved to read mystery novels and it seemed that sometimes that’s all Scott was to Gordo. Gordo would call Scott sometimes and ask him if he was working on any new cases.

                “I’m on the Jake Mercado case.” Scott finally said, then taking a bite of his sandwich.

                “Anything good yet?” questioned Gordo.

                But before Scott could answer his phone started ringing again. He picked it up and looked at the display screen to see who it was and he sighed and answered it, “Hey, Cap’n.”

                “Scott,” Captain Rawls started. “The lab tech tried to call you a minute ago. But we need you down here now.”

                “What’s going on?”

                “All of those murders we had today?”

                “Yeah?”

                “We just connected them.”

 

Thirty minutes later Scott was standing in a briefing room with Captain Rawls, the lab technician whose name Scott thought was Claire, and a few officers that were assigned to the case.

                “So what do you got?” Scott asked, pulling out his notebook and pen to write down notes.

                “Well,” started the technician, “the woman from the gravel pit was I.D’d  to be one Delia Woodrow. 32, lived over on Fourth Street, incarcerated for Grand Theft Auto at the age of 17 and numerous petty-theft crimes until her demise last night” The technician set her picture on the table. “She was killed somewhere between midnight and two in the morning. Her blood was in Jake Mercado’s truck and on the clothes of this man,” she continued, setting a picture of the man from the shower on the table, “Hunter Lloyd. Now the bullet pulled from Delia came from the gun at the scene of Mr. Lloyd. Mr. Lloyd was a suspected suicide and we have confirmed that he did in fact kill himself. That death wasn’t staged.”

                “What about the man from the highway?” Captain Rawls asked.

                “His name was Calvin Johnson.” She said, setting an enlarged image of the man’s I.D on the table. “56, wife, kids, grandkids retires next month.” She said. “The most so far we can figure was he was a high-jacking. His trachea was crushed and there is a bruise on his throat from a fist and we lifted Jake’s finger prints off of the crow bar which in fact was the murder weapon. His skull was completely pulverized. The original blow from the crow bar which was struck directly on the top of his head killed him instantly. For some reason Jake struck him ten more times before stopping.”

                “Have we located Calvin’s car yet?” asked one of the officers. Scott knew his name, Officer Will O’Mackey. He was new to the force, he’d only been a cop for two years now and he was a damn fine one at that. He had gone with Scott on a couple of cases and Scott enjoyed working with him.

                “Not yet. The car that is registered to Calvin is a Silver Cadillac CTS Sport Sedan.”

                “Has anyone contacted his wife?” Captain Rawls asked.

                “Yes. She’s here in the station now waiting to talk to you, Captain.” the technician answered.

                “Thank you, Clara.” Captain Rawls said as he stood up.

                Well, I was close. Thought Scott as the beautiful redhead sat down. Clara looked like she was the kind of woman that was strictly work until she let her hair down, and when she did so she probably had a wild, fiery side that every man would crave to be with if they saw it. But for the most part, from what Scott knew, after work she just went home and read books or watched T.V while she petted her cat. Scott had failed to talk to her, to find out more about her. Maybe in a bit he’d ask her to dinner, get to know her. Expose that wild, passionate side that was buried deep inside her wonderful looking body.

“Alright people,” the Captain said as he was now in the front of the room. Clara had taken her seat again. “We’re looking for a silver Caddy CTS Sport Sedan. Jake Mercado is, as far as we know, armed and dangerous. We know now he has no problem using violent force and even killing if he has to and he has a temper. Pay careful attention to your beats, and look out for that Caddy. That is all.”

                Scott finished his notes and closed and stuffed his notebook and pen in his suit jacket. He noticed that Clara was rushing out of the room so he jumped up and went after her.

                “Hey, Clara!” Scott called after her as he caught up with her.

                Without stopping or turning around she said, “Sorry, I don’t date cops.”

                Scott stopped, dumbfounded at what had just happened. As she briskly walked down the hall, he called out to her, “Yeah? Well I’m not a cop! I’m a Detective!” He watched her walk away, smiling to himself, watching her butt gently rock back and forth with her steps. Such an amazing body.

Reviews

[KennaLovesJake]

Great story!
I like it.
Sorry, this isn't very helpful. I just wanted to tell you I liked it, but I don't have time for an actual review. Sorry!

[Walker Andreasen]

That's ok! I take it you read all of it then? I hope you did :] And you can always review it later if you wish!

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you for sharing the interesting story. You left a lot of doors open. I like the use of the police to make the story feel real. Thank you for sharing the excellent story.
Coyote

[Walker Andreasen]

And thank you Coyote for all of your wonderful comments! I love reading them because you always have something helpful to say. Thank you!

[Walker Andreasen]

And thank you for taking the time to read my book!