Off the Record (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 10) Read online

  I opened my mouth to scream – or at least yell “clown” really loud so people would panic and scatter – when Don offered me a firm headshake. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  I’m never one to follow rules, but when I felt another body move in behind me, I realized I’d played into the wrong set of hands. I felt the unmistakable presence of something cold and hard pressing into the small of my back. “I … .

  “Shut up,” Jess snapped, shoving me up the stairs. “You’re on my last nerve. Either walk into that trailer quietly or I’ll make sure you never open that busy mouth of yours again.”

  Oh, well, great. That was a heck of a choice to make. “You’ll be sorry,” I warned, my mind moving to Eliot as I desperately scanned the crowd. I was in the wrong position to see his shop, which meant he was definitely in the wrong position to see me.

  “I’m already sorry,” Jess said. “I’m sorry I didn’t shut your hole that first night. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

  Well, crap. I was in trouble again. Seriously, though. This time it wasn’t my fault.

  30

  Thirty

  Jess was vicious as he pushed me over the threshold. I stumbled on the uneven trim, my toe catching and causing me to pitch forward. Instead of landing on the floor, I bounced off Don’s huge gut and almost fell backward. Don caught me before I could, grabbing me by my hair and sneering as he ran his tongue over his yellow teeth.

  “Well, well, what did you find me, Jess? She looks positively scrumptious.”

  I swallowed hard to contain my bile, blinking rapidly to remain strong despite my circumstances.

  “She was talking to Stella,” Jess replied, closing the door. He flicked the lock and peered through the window before turning his full attention to Don and me. “I listened. They know. There are a bunch of cops in the parking garage. Daniel saw them first, and I checked myself. Daniel assumed they were eating doughnuts, but I’ve been nervous for days … and now we know why.”

  “Yes, yes. I should’ve listened to your gut. Blah, blah.” Don didn’t seem nearly as bothered as Jess. The way his predatory eyes roamed my body made my stomach lurch. “Do you think this one is to blame?”

  “Who else?” Jess threw himself on the couch, dejected, and stared at the ceiling. “We don’t have a lot of time. We have to get out of here.”

  “How can you be sure the cops are coming for us?”

  “I guess I can’t be sure,” Jess hedged, his eyes moving to me. “I bet she knows, though.”

  Well, crud. I shifted uncomfortably as I studied Jess’s hand. It was in the pocket of his hoodie, where it clearly held some sort of weapon. I couldn’t figure out what it was, though, which worked against me. My response would be vastly different should it be a gun or knife.

  “Do you know, little bird?” Don’s eyes were playful as he tilted my chin in his direction. “What do the cops have on us?”

  I had a choice. I could tell the truth and hope it was enough to scare them, or lie and hope Jake came looking for me sooner. I’d been on a tear telling the truth lately. There didn’t seem to be a reason to stop.

  “We know that twenty years ago you were a suspect in the murder of a young black woman,” I answered, easing myself toward one of the isolated chairs to my left so I could put some distance between Don’s body odor and myself. There wasn’t a lot of air circulation in the trailer with the windows closed. “We know that someone in the carnival killed Tansy and Teyona. The cops believe they’ll find more bodies in other towns you’ve visited. They’re sending out the alert even as we speak.”

  That was kind of an exaggeration, but Don and Jess didn’t need to know that.

  “I see.” Don licked his lips in grotesque fashion, and it was enough to make me squirm. “And what evidence do they have to tie us to the current … problem?”

  “Problem?” I knew I shouldn’t push the matter, but I couldn’t stop myself. “You consider murder just a problem?”

  “I don’t consider it a problem at all,” Don countered. “I consider it a necessity. I’m ridding the world of an unneeded burden. It’s not murder. It’s a public service.”

  “You consider a college girl walking home after working a shift at a bar an unneeded burden?”

  “I consider that entire race a burden.”

  I knew it! Everyone pooh-poohed me and told me not to jump to conclusions on the race angle, but I was totally right. I would make Jake and Eliot cry while doing my “I’m right” dance before this was all said and done. Of course, I’d have to survive to enjoy the dance.

  “You don’t like black people,” I intoned, keeping my voice even. “Is there a reason?”

  “Now don’t take that judgmental tone with me.” Don wagged a finger. “You work in a racially diverse area. I’m sure a proper lady like yourself – and by that I mean blond and white – understands the dangers of letting … animals … live with humans in this manner.”

  I felt sick to my stomach. “So you killed Tansy and Teyona simply because they were black.”

  “On or off the record?” Don’s grin was evil.

  “Does it matter?”

  “It matters to me.”

  “Then, by all means, off the record,” I prodded.

  Don beamed. “That’s exactly why I killed them. It’s kind of a housekeeping thing. At first I thought I had to kill everyone with even a trace of that blood, but that could take forever. Now I’ve come to the conclusion that I can send one message through an individual so that the entire community stands up and takes notice.”

  That didn’t make much sense to me. “What message did you send to the black community when you dumped Teyona in a garbage can and left her to be dragged away without anyone knowing what you’d done?”

  “Well, I admit, that was impulsive.” Don made a gross groaning noise as he flopped in his chair. “I saw her walking by herself and couldn’t stop myself. We generally try to get the lay of the land before picking a victim. She was just too pretty. I couldn’t ignore her … which has come back to bite me in the ass, hasn’t it?”

  There was absolutely no way to argue with that.

  “Once I was done I realized my mistake,” Don continued. “You don’t hunt in your own backyard. That’s against the rules. It’s not smart. It’s a sure sign of mental weakness, for that matter.”

  “And who told you that?” Jess challenged.

  Don heaved a sigh. “Good grief, boy. I already said that you were right. What more do you want?”

  “A way out of this mess,” Jess snapped. “We can’t stay in this trailer. The cops will be coming for us soon.”

  “You don’t know that,” Don challenged. “Even if they do … well … we knew this couldn’t last forever. I’m ready for when they get here.”

  Jess looked incensed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means it might be time to take our message global,” Don replied, chatting away as if I wasn’t in the room and he didn’t have a witness to his plans. “I know you didn’t think we could carry on like this forever, boy. Now it’s time to go to the second phase of our plan – to trial and spreading the good word.”

  Don was clearly crazy. He was pompous, arrogant and deranged. That wasn’t a good combination. Jess was another story. He seemed calmer, although Don’s announcement that they would imminently be arrested – and his desire to do absolutely nothing about the prospect – obviously didn’t sit well with him. He wasn’t mentally unbalanced, I decided after watching him a moment. He was cold and calculating, a much more dangerous combination.

  “What good word?” I asked, buying time when I saw Andre’s face flash in the window behind Jess. My heart caught in my throat and I had to work overtime to remain calm. Andre locked gazes with me, briefly saluted, and then disappeared from the window moments before Jess turned his attention in that direction.

  “What good word?” I repeated, trying to draw attention to me and away from the windows. Anything Don said was b
ound to be utter nonsense, but I figured he liked to hear himself talk. The longer he talked, the longer I lived. Jake and Eliot would come for me eventually. Andre knew I was here. He would go to them. Even if Andre couldn’t find them they’d realize I was missing and plot a rescue. I simply had to last long enough.

  “The good word about the animals,” Don replied, making a face. “Are we in the same conversation? How can she not get this?”

  “She doesn’t want to get it,” Jess answered. “She believes differently. I saw her visiting the zoo several times this week. She was hanging around those … people … on a bench across town.”

  Well, that answered that. I no longer had to wonder if my plan worked. It obviously did.

  Don snorted. “She believes the wrong way.”

  “Definitely the wrong way,” Jess agreed, his eyes dark when they locked with mine. “You knew from the beginning, didn’t you?”

  I shrugged. “I knew there was something off about you. Then, when we realized you lied about your name to Jake, it didn’t take much to convince me of your guilt.”

  Jess shifted on the couch. “What do you mean?”

  “You lied about your name,” I pressed. “You said your name was Jess Davenport, but when we ran that name the photo that came up clearly didn’t match your face.”

  Jess’s tone was accusatory when he glared at Don. “You said you handled that.”

  Don held his hands palms up and smiled. “Oops.”

  “Oops?” Jess stomped his foot against the trailer floor, causing it to rock. “Oops? How can you say that, you idiot? You fouled things up completely. If you’d done what you said you were going to do none of this would’ve ever happened. You were supposed to switch out my identification with Jess Davenport’s photo? How hard is that?”

  Don was oddly blasé as he studied the nails of his sausage-like fingers. “I must’ve forgot.”

  Something was so off about this interaction – other than the obvious, I mean – that I had trouble wrapping my head around the total picture. I was still missing something … and it was a big something.

  “So, how long have you guys been at this?” I asked, changing tactics. I decided to appeal to Don’s innate storytelling desires. “Did your eyes lock over a crowded midway and somehow you instinctively knew you wanted to kill together?”

  “Oh, listen to this one,” Don said, chuckling as he jerked his thumb in my direction. “She thinks she knows it all, but she doesn’t understand a thing.”

  “She understands enough,” Jess countered, his breath ragged. He was clearly still angry about Don’s mistake – which I was starting to believe was on purpose – and he couldn’t seem to focus on anything else.

  “She doesn’t understand anything,” Don scoffed. “Look at her. She thinks we’re misguided.”

  “Oh, you’re more than misguided,” I countered. I didn’t care how unwise it was to poke the crazy giant. “You may have convinced yourself that you’re doing a service, but anyone else with half a brain knows you’re crazy.”

  “You poor, poor thing.” Don made an odd clucking sound with his tongue. “You have no idea how many of us are really out there, do you? I’m sure it will be a real eye-opener to someone like you when I’m in the middle of the trial of the century.”

  Ugh. He had delusions of grandeur to boot. “You think this is going to turn into the trial of the century? You’re going to get locked up for hate crimes and you’ll never see daylight again. That’s all that’s going to happen. There is no trial of the century brewing here.”

  “That shows what you know,” Don said. “All I need is a white jury – you know how O.J. got a black jury, only in reverse – and then I will be able to prove to the world that I was providing a service.”

  “Yeah, you’re smoking some whacked-out crack or something.” I risked at glance at Jess and saw him rocking on the couch in agitation. “What’s his deal?”

  “He’s a nervous sort,” Don said, waving off the question. “He gets that from his mother. She was a nervous sort, too … right up until the end.”

  And there it was. Something clicked in my brain. “You’re Jess’s father, not his uncle.”

  “Good girl!” Don beamed. “I was wondering if you’d figured out that part yet.”

  Just barely. “But … you’re listed as his uncle in the records you filed with various states,” I mused. “You did that on purpose because … because … .” I was so close.

  “Because my mother was black! He didn’t want to admit he’d slept with a black woman,” Jess supplied. “If he said he was my father and someone pulled up my birth records, the truth would be out.”

  Of course! I darted my eyes to Jess, taking a moment to look at him through fresh eyes. Of course, now all of the things that made him seem exotic – especially when grading on the carnie scale – seemed to make sense. His nose was a bit wider, his shoulders broader, his eyes darker and his cheekbones higher. It made a terrible sort of sense.

  “So Don here knocked up a black woman and something bad happened,” I mused aloud. “Let me guess, she realized you were scum and wanted you out of her life.”

  “Not quite,” Don countered. “She told me she was pregnant and demanded I marry her. I couldn’t do that. A bout of jungle fever is okay now and then, but you can’t live with it forever.”

  And I was back to being sick to my stomach. “She got pregnant and demanded you marry her. You decided you didn’t want to do that, and then she made noise about child support. Am I right?”

  “Kind of.” Don didn’t look nearly as amiable as he had moments before. “I left Illinois – that’s where this blessed event took place, my old stomping grounds, so to speak – and thought I was free and clear. Then that idiot managed to track me down with a court order demanding a DNA test because she wanted to force me into paying child support.

  “Jess was two at that point,” he continued. “I hadn’t seen him yet. I didn’t know he could pass for white. That would’ve changed things, although not for his mother.”

  I did the math in my head. “This is before you were arrested for killing the other woman. You got away with it before you were caught.”

  “Yes. It was being caught that forced me to change my procedure. That’s when I came up with the rules – like don’t kill in your own backyard. Things worked well for a long time.”

  “Until you got sloppy,” Jess interjected.

  “Yes, well, that’s an argument for a later time.” Don shook himself out of what looked to be a dark reverie. “Jess’s mother showed up and wanted money. I killed her and dumped her in a spot where she’s never been found, not even to this day. The cops questioned me, but I denied seeing her. They had no proof that I did, so … .”

  “So you got away with it,” I finished. “You killed her and Jess went into the system.”

  “Now you’re thinking again.” Don bobbed his head. “I forgot all about him until he showed up a year ago. I cleansed the world throughout the years, mind you, but it was always sporadic until my boy joined me. It was more like scratching an itch than anything else because I was too frightened to push matters.”

  “So, when you found each other, you streamlined the process.” I shifted my eyes to Jess. “You’re part black. Your mother was black. How can you go along with this?”

  “My mother was a money-grubbing whore,” Jess seethed. “She wanted to take money from my father instead of working. Why should I respect that?”

  I was wrong about Jess being sane. I could see that now. His mental issues were far worse than those his father displayed. Jess was legitimately twisted. Don merely enjoyed playing games. They were both sick, but in different ways.

  “So you two have been killing for a year,” I said, licking my lips. “You easily got away with it until Tansy.”

  “Until you found Tansy,” Jess clarified. “No one would’ve noticed if you’d kept out of our business.”

  “I guess that was a mistake on my part.�
��

  “I guess so.”

  “Uh-huh.” I ran the scenario through my head over and over. Something still didn’t make sense. “How do you think you’ll get away with this?”

  “We’re not technically going to get away with it,” Don answered. “We’re going on trial and the public is going to exonerate us because they’ll see we were doing it right. It will be a new world order, my girl … and you’re going to be part of it. You should be proud.”

  That was Don’s delusion, but I could tell Jess didn’t buy into it. He killed because he enjoyed it, not for some bigger issue or some message they wanted to send as a duo. My guess was Jess didn’t care what his victims looked like. He allowed Don to pick them. Jess was an equal opportunity killer, though. He wouldn’t stop because the victim was of another race. He simply let Don believe they shared the same delusion. Perhaps it was a bonding exercise.

  “If you really believe that, why did you arrange things so that you could point the finger at Jess if it became necessary?” I challenged, going for broke.

  “What are you talking about?” Jess asked, knitting his eyebrows. He was confused by the question. His father clearly wasn’t. That’s what made me realize I’d found the final piece.

  “Don’t listen to her,” Don said. “She’s talking to hear herself talk.”

  “You said it yourself, Jess,” I prodded. “He was supposed to change that personnel file. That’s what tipped us off and made us dig deeper. He did that because he wanted to be able to point the cops toward you if it became an issue.”

  “But … no.” Jess shook his head as Don scorched me with a dark look.

  “I think it’s time for you to shut your mouth, missy,” Don said, shifting in his chair as he attempted to get comfortable. “No one needs to hear your drivel.”