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Jack Ryder Mystery Series: Vol 1-3, Page 4

Willow Rose


  “Boy, you’re hot,” he said, groaning, as he kissed her throat and moved further down her body. He grinned and started to open her dress, taking one button at a time. Annie felt insecure. What was he going to do next?

  Tim pulled the dress open and looked at her bra, then he ripped it off.

  “Ouch,” Annie said. She tried to cover her breasts with her arms, but Tim soon grabbed them and pulled them to her sides. He held her down while kissing her breasts. He groaned while sucking on her nipples. Annie wasn’t sure if she liked it or not. He was being a little rough, and she was afraid of going too far with him.

  Whatever you do, don’t sleep with him. No matter what.

  “Stop,” she mumbled, when he pulled the dress off completely and grabbed her panties. Tim stopped. He stared at Annie. She felt bad. Had she scared him away? Was he ever going to see her again if she didn’t let him?

  No matter what.

  No. She wasn’t ready for this. She had saved herself. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Not like this. Not here.

  “I want to go home,” Annie said.

  Tim smiled and tilted his head, then leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Not yet, sweetheart, not yet.”

  He stroked her face gently and kissed her cheeks, while she fought and tried to get him off her body. In the distance, she heard voices, and soon she felt hands on her body, hands touching her, hands slapping her face. She felt so dizzy and everything became a blur of faces, laughing voices, cheering voices, hands everywhere, groping her, touching her, hurting her. And then the pain followed.

  The excruciating pain.

  Chapter Ten

  January 2015

  Brandon Bennett was still out cold when I had to leave the hospital. I decided to wait to interrogate him till later. Ben had told me that he had been asleep, so he hadn’t seen who was at the house, but there were two of his parents’ neighbors who usually came over to drink with his mom and dad. I got the names and called for both of them to come into the station in the afternoon. Meanwhile, I had to drive back to the zoo to pick up the kids and get them back to their school.

  “Daddy!” my kids yelled when I opened the doors to the school bus and they stormed in, screaming with joy. Both of them clung to my neck.

  “How was the zoo?” I asked.

  “So much fun!” Abigail exclaimed. She was the most outgoing of the two, and often the one who spoke for them. I had a feeling Austin was the thinker, the one who would turn out to be a genius some day. Well, maybe not exactly a genius, but there was something about him. Abigail was the one who came up with all their naughty plans, and she always got Austin in on them.

  “Good. I’m glad,” I said and smooched their cheeks loudly.

  “You would have loved it, Dad,” Abigail continued. “You should have come. What was so important anyway?”

  I exhaled and kissed her again, then let go of her. “Just some work thing. Nothing to worry about.”

  The twins looked at each other. Abigail placed her hands on her hips and looked at me with her head tilted.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You only say for us to not worry if there is actually something to worry about,” Abigail said. “Am I right?” She looked at Austin, who nodded.

  “She’s right, Dad.”

  I smiled. “Well, it is nothing smart little noses like yours should get into, so get in the back of the bus with your friends and sit down. We’re leaving now.”

  Abigail grumbled something, then grabbed her brother’s shirt and they walked to the back. The bus gave a deep sigh when I closed the doors and we took off.

  The atmosphere on the bus driving back was loud and very cheerful. Loudest of all were my twins, but this time I didn’t mind too much. After the morning I had spent with a dead body and a poor kid who had lost his mother, I was just so pleased that my kids were still happy and innocent. They didn’t look at me with that empty stare in their eyes, the one where you know they’ll never trust the world again. That broken look that made them appear so much older than they were.

  “Grandma and Grandpa will pick you up,” I said, as I dropped them off at Roosevelt Elementary School.

  “Yay!” they both exclaimed.

  I told their teacher as well, then parked the bus and gave the keys back to the front office.

  “Thank you so much for helping out today,” Elaine at the desk said. “It’s always wonderful when the parents get involved.”

  “Anytime,” I said.

  I walked to my car, a red Jeep Convertible. I got in and drove to the station with the top down. I bought my favorite sandwich at Juice ‘N Java Café, called Cienna. It had a Portobello mushroom, yellow tomato, goat cheese arugula, and pesto on Pugliese bread. I figured I had earned it after the morning I had.

  The police station was located inside of City Hall, right in the heart of Cocoa Beach. I knew the place well, even though I was usually located at the sheriff’s offices in Rockledge. Cocoa Beach was my town, and every time they needed a detective, I was the one they called for. Even if they were cases that didn’t involve homicide. As I entered through the glass doors, Weasel came towards me. Two officers flanked her.

  “Going out for lunch?” I asked.

  “Yes. I see you’ve already gotten yours,” she said, nodding at my bag with my sandwich from the café.

  “I’m expecting two of the neighbors in for questioning in a short while. Any news I should know about?” I asked.

  Weasel sighed. “The ME has taken the body in for examination. They expect to have the cause of death within a few hours, they say. They’re still working on the house.”

  “Any fingerprints so far?”

  “Lots. We asked around a little and heard the same story from most of the neighbors. The Bennetts were a noisy bunch. Nothing that has ever been reported, but the wife and husband fought a lot, one neighbor told us. He said they yelled and screamed at each other when they got drunk. He figured the husband finally had enough. I guess it sounds plausible. He killed her, then panicked and tried to dismember her body to get rid of it. But the dog interrupted him. He decided to pretend he had been asleep through the whole thing. When we arrived, the dad was asleep when Joel went up, but he might have pretended to be. Joel said he seemed out of it, though. Might just be a good actor.”

  “It’s all a lot of theories so far,” I said with a deep exhale. It was going to be a long day for me. I was so grateful I had my parents nearby.

  I grew up in Ft. Lauderdale, further down south, but when I left for college, my parents wanted to try something new. They bought a motel by the beach in Cocoa Beach a few years after I left the house. The place was a haven for the kids. They never missed me while they were there. That made it easier for me to work late.

  “I’ve cleared an office for you,” Weasel said. “We’re glad to have you here to help us.”

  I put a hand on her broad shoulder. “Likewise. I’ll hold down the fort. Enjoy your lunch.”

  Chapter Eleven

  January 2015

  “It all started when they lost their daughter.”

  It was late in the afternoon at the station. I had interviewed two of the neighbors who usually came to the Bennetts’ house to drink with them, but hadn’t gotten anything out of them. They didn’t even know the Bennetts very well, they told me. They just knew that there was free booze. The Bennetts were loaded, and every drunk in the neighborhood knew that they could always find a party there. Only one of the two, Travis Connor, had been at the Bennett’s house the night before. He told us he was the only guest at the time, but he hadn’t stayed long. He had left the house at ten o’clock and gone to the Beach Shack to hang out with some buddies. I called, and they confirmed his alibi. The next-door neighbor, Mrs. Jeffries had told my colleagues that she had seen Laura Bennett walk onto the back porch at eleven to smoke a cigarette. So, I let the guy go. His hands were shaking heavily, and I guessed he was in a hurry to find a drink somewhere.

&
nbsp; Around three o’clock, a woman had come to the station and asked to talk to someone about the killing of Laura Bennett. Her name was Gabrielle Phillips.

  The front desk sent her to me. Now, I was sitting across from her as she explained why she had come.

  “They lost their child last year, and that’s when it all went wrong,” she continued. “I’ve known Laura since high school,” she said. “She never used to drink. But when their daughter died in her bed at night, everything changed.”

  “Sudden Infant Death Syndrome?” I asked, and wrote it on a notepad.

  “Yes. After that, they started drinking. Well, to be honest, Brandon has always drunk a lot, but she never did. Never touched a drop. It wasn’t her thing. She didn’t like to lose control.”

  “So, they drank and partied because they lost their child?” I asked.

  “Well, Brandon always liked to party. Especially after Laura inherited all that money. He didn’t have to work anymore. He had always liked to drink, but it got really bad. She was actually considering leaving him and taking the kids, but then the daughter died in her sleep, and she couldn’t take it. She had a drink and then never stopped again. I tried to talk to her, but she shut me out and told me it was none of my business.”

  Gabrielle looked upset. I could tell she had loved her friend and cared for her. She was choking up, but held back the tears.

  “I tried…” she continued. “I really did. But she wouldn’t listen to me. I told her that guy was all wrong for her. He was trouble from the beginning.”

  I reached behind me and grabbed a box of tissues that I handed to her. She grabbed it and wiped her eyes, careful not to smear her make-up. I wrote on my notepad and tried to get all the details down.

  “So, you say she inherited a lot of money? From her dad, right?” I asked.

  “She inherited ten million dollars from him, and she never even knew him.”

  I looked up. “Excuse me?”

  “She was born outside of marriage. Her mother was an affair that John Platt had once when he was on a book tour. They met in Tampa, where she lived at the time. Nine months later, Laura was born. John Platt refused to have anything to do with the child. He paid a good amount of money to the mother to keep her mouth shut and never tell the child who her real father was. Laura’s mother later remarried when Laura was still a baby, and they decided to have the new husband be the father as well. To prevent any awkward questions. And to have Laura grow up with a real family. Her new father loved her, and she still looks at him like her real father. Both of her parents died two years ago in a car accident outside of Orlando.”

  “Sounds like Laura has suffered a lot of loss the last couple of years,” I said.

  Gabrielle sniffled and wiped her nose in a ladylike manner.

  “So, her husband Brandon, tell me more about him?”

  “He is the scum of the earth,” Gabrielle hissed. “But, somehow, she loved him.”

  “How did they meet?”

  “At a sports game. Can you believe it? A baseball game. UCF Knights were playing South Florida. Laura went to UCF; Brandon had just come to watch the game with some friends. He was an auto mechanic and smelled like oil and trouble, if you ask me. Smoked and drank too much. Liked to party. I was with her on the night they met outside the stadium. He just walked right up to her and told her she was gorgeous and that he would like to invite her out sometime. I was surprised to hear her accept. I couldn’t believe her. But I guess she somehow wanted to rebel against her parents or something. They never liked him either, but she married him anyway. After four months of them dating, he proposed. Four months! I knew she was going to get herself in trouble with this guy. I just knew it.”

  “So, tell me some more about the inheritance. When did she realize she was going to get all this money?”

  “It was right before the pig proposed. Go figure, right? He heard about the money, then wanted to marry her. I couldn’t believe she didn’t see it, but she told me she loved him, and I really think she did. I think all he loved was her money. Anyway, that’s just my opinion.”

  “How did she learn about the money? From a lawyer?” I asked, thinking it must have been quite a shock…suddenly being a millionaire and suddenly realizing your entire childhood was based on a lie.

  Gabrielle shook her head and wiped her nose again. She drank from the glass of water I had placed in front of her. It was hot outside. In the low eighties. She was wearing shorts and flip-flops. The state costume of Florida. Even in January.

  “No, it was the strangest thing. He called her.”

  “Who?”

  “John Platt. He called her right before he died. How he got her number, I don’t know, but I guess when you’re that big you have people working for you. He was sick, he said. Cancer was eating him and he wanted her to come. He didn’t tell her why, only that he had something for her. At first, Laura thought it was a joke, but he gave her an address and she looked it up and it turned out to be right. She called me afterwards and told me everything. She was freaking out. Said she had decided she didn’t want to go, because it was too weird. But I convinced her to do it. I went with her, so she wouldn’t be alone. Together, we were invited into his huge mansion on the beach in Cocoa Beach. He told her he was happy to see her. There were others there. I later learned they were her siblings. Two sisters and a brother. They had all grown up in the house, but were now living on their own, except for the youngest, who hadn’t left the house yet, even though he was in his mid-twenties. They weren’t very happy to see her, I can tell you that much. They weren’t prepared to share their inheritance with some stranger, but they soon learned they had to.”

  “So, what happened?” I asked “What did John Platt tell her?”

  “It was such an awkward scene. He was lying in bed, surrounded by nurses and family. He teared up when he saw Laura. It made her really uncomfortable. He wanted to hold her hand and started to cry. Then, he handed her a piece of paper. Take this, he said. You deserve this more than any of the others.”

  “So, what was written on the paper?”

  “It was a will. He had changed his will a few hours before we arrived. His lawyer had signed it and everything. It stated that she was going to inherit everything. All he had. The house, his money, everything.”

  I leaned back in my chair while the story came together for me. “So, the siblings didn’t get anything?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Not a dime. They had grown up in luxury, so their father figured it was time for them to learn how to earn a decent living on their own. That’s what he wrote in the letter. Laura had never known who her father was, never had any of his money, now he was giving her everything. I guess he tried to make amends for not letting her know he was her dad all those years. Laura was baffled, to put it mildly. She read the letter, but didn’t understand. How could he be her father? She already had a father. She ran out of the house crying, and I ran after her. John Platt died shortly after, we later learned. Good thing for him, I think. Otherwise, the siblings would probably have started a riot. They tried to fight Laura with all their big lawyers afterwards, trying to declare that their dad was dying, and therefore not in his right mind when he made the will. After several months of going back and forth, the judge decided they didn’t have a case and closed it. Laura was rich and, in time, came to accept the fact that she had been the result of an affair. Her mother confirmed it was true, and they didn’t speak for a long time, but she forgave her eventually. Laura and Brandon bought the house in Snug Harbor and moved here shortly after they were married. She sold John Platt’s old house, but wanted to stay in the town. She liked it here, she told me. I didn’t see her much after she moved, since I live north of Orlando now, and I work full time, but every now and then, we would meet and catch up. But she was never really happy. She had Ben, and he was the joy of her life, but she kept talking about how Brandon was drinking and gambling her money away on the casino boats, acting like this big shot with her mo
ney. She wanted to leave him, but then she was pregnant again and decided to stay for the children. I met with her the week before the baby died. She said she was going to leave him, this time for real. That she was going back to the Tampa area and start over with the kids. Brandon’s drinking had gotten worse, and he was still gambling a lot. In a few years, he had spent more than a third of her money. She was still certain he loved her, and maybe he does. I don’t know him well enough to say he doesn’t. But he also loved the money, and that’s what went so wrong. After the baby died, I went to the funeral and Laura had a black eye. She told me in confidence that Brandon had slapped her, that he blamed her for the child’s death. They fought about that a lot, she told me. He couldn’t believe she hadn’t checked on the baby during the night. It was her fault, he told her. And she believed him. She felt so guilty, she told me. So much it hurt. I said she should leave him, that now was the time to go, and she agreed, but she never did. Instead, she lowered herself to his level and took up drinking. The last time I spoke to her was three months ago, and she was so drunk on the phone I could hardly understand what she was saying. Now…I can’t believe she’s gone. What’s to become of Ben?”

  I shook my head with a deep exhale. I was starting to wonder that myself.

  Chapter Twelve

  January 2015

  Shannon heard her daughter’s voice calling in the distance. Then the door slammed and the voice came closer, even though it was all still drowned in a heavy daze.

  “Moom? Moom?” the voice became shrill and clearer.

  Shannon tried to blink her eyes to be able to see, but it hurt too much.

  She felt a hand in hers, then someone pulling her arm.

  “Mom? Please, wake up, Mom, please?”

  Shannon growled something, trying to speak, but her lip hurt. She blinked again, and soon an image emerged of her daughter looking at her with terrified eyes.