Urban Renewal (Urban Elite Book 1) (4 page)

Jack

“Ah, Mister Jack, how are you doing this fine evening?” the man behind the counter of the corner mart asks me. When I set my coffee on the counter and reach for my wallet, he shakes his head. “Keep your money. You know I don’t let cops pay for coffee. It keeps you guys in here, keeps the thieves out there.”

“Well, I’m officially retired now, Reggie. My last day was today.”

“Ha, so you think! Not true, Jack. Once a cop…always a cop.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that. You be careful, now,” I say as I walk to the door and push it open. As the bell over it jingles to announce my exit, I raise the cup up in his direction in salute, “Thanks for the coffee, Reggie.”

“You’re welcome. And don’t be a stranger, Jack. Just because you ain’t working the streets anymore doesn’t mean you don’t stop by to see me.”

“You’ll still see me around. I have a feeling I’ll be busier on these streets than I’ve ever been.” I leave, grinning at the confused look on his face; he’ll find out soon enough.

I head back out to the parking lot and open the driver’s side door of my SUV, slide in and place my coffee in the cup holder. I’m enjoying driving my new ride instead of the Crown Vic I drove for so many years for my job. Yeah, I like this bad boy much better. It’s tricked out, complete with Wi-Fi and Bluetooth. I even went so far as to have bulletproof glass installed. I may have gone a bit overboard, but like any other grown little boy—I do like my toys.

With the hair on the back of my neck bristling, I whip over into a darkened parking lot behind a strip joint. I turn around and glare at my unexpected passenger in the back seat and silently berate myself for not locking my goddamn car. This is no time to start being careless.

“Alright, Max – So how ‘bout you tell me what the fuck you’re doing in my car?”

“You won’t talk to me, Jack, so…”

“Seriously? Jesus. Fine, I’ll drive, you talk.”

“Okay,” she says, climbing over the seat.

“Watch the leather, Max,” I growl, referring to the cream-colored leather seats in
my baby
. She ignores me, strapping on her seatbelt and folding her hands over the notebook she carries everywhere.

I make a three-point turn out of the lot and prepare to listen to what her hustle is this time. She’s fascinated by crime. She was top of her class in journalism but refuses to get a job with the local paper. She insists she wants to be a trailblazer and start her own crime blog. And hell, it might actually work since she has a father with more money than sense who supports her. In fact, she just might come in handy for what I have in mind.

“How’d you know I was back there?” she asks, reaching over and helping herself to my coffee. I like the kid, she’s like the daughter I never had -- or haven’t had yet, anyway.

“I smelled your sandalwood soap.”

“Why, quite the detective, aren’t you, Jack?”

“I’m damn good at what I do,” I admit.

“Well, I am, too, and I smell a story. Hey, I saw you up at the old motel earlier. The lady you met had one of those real estate signs on the side of her car. Fess up – you bought the place, didn’t you?”

“You
are
good at what you do. Yeah, God help me, I bought that place. You’re looking at Louisville’s newest retiree,” I say glibly. I take a moment to look over at this girl who is all tomboy. She wormed her way into my life about six months ago. She’s got the makings of a good reporter and although she doesn’t know it yet, she’s perfect for what I have up my sleeve.

She scowls abruptly as she stares at me. “What the hell are you doing buying a motel? Jack…why are you looking at me like that? You look like you know something I don’t. Spill it.”

“I may have a proposition for you, Max.”

“I’m not that kind of girl, Jack,” she says with perfect deadpan delivery.

“And you’re sure as hell not
my
kind of girl, Max.”

“Well, thanks, I figured,” she says as a smirk tilts the corners of her mouth. “I already know your type: blonde hair, blue eyes, legs that go on forever. I see the way you look at that partner of yours.”

“I’m just saying, I look at you like a kid sister. And I bought the motel as the headquarters for a private investigation firm I’m starting. Now, answer the question. What are you doing in my car?”

“This isn’t a car, dude. This is waaaay beyond a car. This is a tricked out Cadillac SUV,” she says dreamily, running her hand over the dashboard reverently. I shake my head and tell her to continue. I’m curious about her thoughts. This girl has a sixth sense when it comes to sniffing out news and I learned long ago to take her gut instincts seriously.

“I dunno, all these women coming up missing, Jack, I think they’re connected. I guess we’ll know more when bodies start piling up. You’ve either got a collector or a killer on your hands, and I want to help crack the case. You know, you can include me now that you aren’t on the force anymore. All that bureaucratic bullshit of not being able to have a ride-along. I’m perfect for whatever it is you have in mind, plus your girlfriend likes me so she won’t be jealous, being as how I’m not your
type
.”

“What exactly are you trying to talk me into?”

“Hire me! Let’s do a crime blog together.”

“I don’t have time to friggin’ blog, Max, I’m going to be busy training my team and catching criminals.”

“That’s my point. Include me in the case investigations and I’ll do the blog.”

I hide a grin as I check my side mirror for a lane change. I figure I’ll give her a couple more minutes to sweat. Her voice becomes a background noise that I’m still attentive to as I scan the sidewalks and storefronts, taking in my surroundings purely out of habit.

Looks like the usual nighttime foot traffic. A man in a hoodie shuffles down the street pushing a grocery cart that’s filled to overflowing, probably with everything he owns. Soon it will be so cold they’ll have to hit the homeless shelter at night, but for now the nights are still warm enough for them to huddle in a cardboard box, in an alley, or under the overpass by the river.

“How in the hell do you manage to get all this inside information you come up with?” I have to admit I’m impressed with Max. She has the ability to find out things only the cops in the precinct should know. Some people are good journalists through the courses they take, and then there are those like Max who are born with an innate ability to investigate. She has both things going for her: the college courses she was top of her class in and a relentless curiosity that always gets her to the bottom of any story she pursues.

With her raw skills she could have been a cop, but her heart is in journalism and I think I can put her talents to good use. With me taking her under my wing and honing those abilities, she’ll be the best in the biz. If I don’t take her under my wing, she could get herself killed out here on these streets alone. I feel a sense of obligation to protect her. She’s a good kid and I don’t want to see her get hurt or, worse yet, killed -- plus Valerie likes her.

“The streets have eyes and ears and I’m curious by nature. You know what they say, inquiring minds want to know? I come out and turn over every rock I can find until I come up with the story, then I rinse and repeat until I get the answers.”

I hand her the coffee as I consider my next words. She takes a drink and hands it back to me, meeting my gaze. “Back to the proposition I’ve got for you,” I say. “Come work for me.”

“Now you’re talkin’! Doing what?”

“Well, you know I bought the old motel on West Jefferson. I’m going into work as a private investigator and I’m going to bring some young people along with me. Raise ‘em right so they know what the hell they’re doing.”

“Why do you need the whole motel? You gonna to train private investigator babies?” She laughs at her own joke, slapping her knee.

“Actually, yes, I am.” That gets her quiet real quick, then a grin spreads across her face and she bounces in her seat.

“Hell, yeah, I’m in. Are you gonna put me up in a room too?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Fuck, yeah, I’m in. Hot damn, this is just the break I’ve been looking for!” Her excitement boosts my confidence, as crazy as that sounds. Her zeal is infectious and I feel good about what I’ve done buying the downtown motel.

In the beginning stages of any business venture it’s important to surround yourself with people who believe in you. As weathered as I am, I still need a confidence boost every now and then. Valerie and Max have both given me that today. Any of the guys at the station would have laughed and said I was crazy for taking on a babysitting job of training private investigators. It is crazy—but it’s doable. I’m going to make it work and these girls are going to help me. There’s nothing I love more than confident, capable women and Valerie and Max both fit the bill.

“Well, young lady, then let’s go show you your new home.”

His Conquest

I push the cart with the wobbly wheel over to the cellar door. I like this place; the cellar door makes it easy to get in and out, and the tall stone wall around the yard blocks the view from prying eyes. Though the wall is missing some stones and there is evidence of gradual decay, it still serves its purpose. It keeps me hidden from nosy neighbors. Even though most everyone in this area minds their own business, I can’t take any chances. I will reveal myself at a time of my choosing. I’ll be the reason people double check the locks on their doors and windows.

Getting into the whore’s apartment was easy enough since it was on the bottom floor. I just cut the screen and broke the window. Wrapping my fist in cloth helped to mute the sound of breaking glass somewhat, and kept me from cutting my hand. I pride myself on containing my DNA and not leaving a shred of trace evidence behind.

It always amazes me how people gain a false sense of security when they enter the threshold of their home. I’m certain she takes every precaution when she’s hustling in the high end hotels, but once her feet graced the doorway of home her guard immediately went down. She went to sleep in peace, never expecting to be abducted during the night—her sleep deep enough to never hear the window when it shattered. Drugging her as she slept was even easier—one quick stab in the neck with a drug-filled syringe works every time. Pushing her in a grocery cart for five blocks, now that was a different story. It had been easy to throw her blanket over her with odds and ends of brick-a-brack from her apartment, giving the impression I was just another homeless street person pushing all their worldly possessions through the city streets in a rickety old grocery cart. Society’s eyes are blinded to the homeless, their misery of no more interest to the average upstanding citizen than a streetlamp or a sign in a storefront window.

I had pushed her down the street in the grocery cart that had been conveniently located in the back alley of her apartment. However, the cart, no matter how fortuitously placed, had been a pain in the ass to deal with because of a wobbly wheel that resisted every push, pull, and turn along the way. There had come a point in the five-block walk when I wondered if I would have to move to the front of it and pull it along rather than pushing it from behind. The last block or so had been the hardest.

During the walk I reminisced about our time together in her apartment. She had looked so innocent sleeping in her bed, like an Asian sleeping beauty, rather than the dirty whore that she is.

And now my puzzle is almost complete. It will be interesting to see if the authorities can piece it together. Soon I’ll have the respect and acknowledgment I deserve—the media will see to that. They know the general public loves a serial killer. They just can’t get enough of that brand of depravity. They read about them, watch them on TV, hell some of the incompetent ones that get caught even have groupies that write to them in prison.

I don’t plan on getting caught. I’m too smart to get caught. I just want to play. Now it’s just a matter of finding the right playmate, someone who’s as intelligent as I am. It will have to be a worthy opponent for things to play out the right way. As exciting as it is to abduct and kill, the real fun will begin when the other players become involved. It will be a match of wits, an epic battle of good vs. evil. That’s when I’m at my best, when the game becomes as much about the mental sparring as the physical.