Jack Ryder Mystery Series: Vol 1-3
It was obvious that Jack was trying to cover her till she got it under control. That was Jack for you, always the hero. Shannon loved that about him. Most men would just have looked, or even turned away and acted like they hadn’t seen it. But not Jack. He felt responsible.
Shannon had to admit, she was beginning to like him more and more as time passed. She was very fond of him. But she still had her doubts whether it was too soon for her. She feared he was nothing but a rebound for her…an excuse to move on. He had said he loved her, and she believed she loved him too. But, some days, she was unsure. It was all still so new. He made her feel good. That was all she knew, and all she needed right now. But would he still love her with all the demons she carried around and constantly fought? She knew she wasn’t an easy person to love. Jack deserved someone much better than her.
As she thought about it, her phone started to ring. She picked it up. It was Joe—again.
“You gotta stop calling me,” she said as she answered it. Her first thought was to ignore the call, but he had called at least six times today, and she had a feeling he wasn’t going to stop until she picked up.
“Please, Shannon,” Joe said. “Just talk to me. I miss you so much. You and Angela. The house is so big and empty without you in it. I’m not sure I can take it. You’ve gotta come home, Shannon. You’ve got to.”
Shannon closed her eyes and touched the bridge of her nose. When was he going to understand this? “I’m not coming home. I’m never coming back. You have to realize that, Joe.”
“But, what about us? Remember how it used to be? How much we used to love each other? Don’t tell me you don’t love me anymore, because I don’t believe it.”
Shannon sighed. She spotted Jack on the beach again. He was running towards the water with his own board under his arm. Life with Jack was so easy. Life here in Cocoa Beach had been so easy for her the past month. But, Joe was right. They had a lot of history together.
“I’m the only one who really knows you, Shannon,” he said. “Think of all we’ve been through together. Are you just going to bail on that? Just like that? Throw it all away? We have a daughter together. I helped you build your career. Without me, you would be nothing, and you know it. Angela is mine too. If you don’t come back, I’m going to take her away from you. I hope you realize that. I will be forced to reveal everything, Shannon. Don’t force me to tell them all your secrets.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Of course I would. Not only the judge will know. The entire world will. I’ll have a press conference of my own. Tell them the entire story. I’m sure they’ll looove that, aren’t you?”
Joe laughed. Shannon snorted in anger.
“Go to hell.”
Then she hung up.
Chapter Twenty-One
March 2015
Stanley was crying. It had been many years since he last cried. Stanley didn’t believe a real man should cry. He had told his son many times and let him know it wouldn’t be accepted. Crying was a weakness.
Nevertheless, Stanley was wailing and howling now. Tears were streaming across his cheeks as his guardian forced food into his mouth. In between swallowing, he pleaded for it to stop.
“Please. Please. I’ll do anything.”
“If you want that beautiful granddaughter of yours to live, you’ll open your mouth and eat,” the guardian said.
“I can’t. I can’t. No more food. Please.”
His guardian shook their head with a tsk. In one hand was the gun, in the other, the spoon. The dreaded spoon, where potatoes in thick gravy leaned on some undefined chunk of meat. Stanley couldn’t stand the sight or the smell. His stomach was so full it was painful to breathe. He was beginning to wonder what this person really wanted from him. To kill him with food?
“Don’t give me that. Now, be a good boy. Open up.”
Stanley gagged. Food overflowed into his mouth and made him feel sick. His guardian reacted by pushing the potatoes and meat into his mouth and forcing him to swallow it all. Stanley would have bent over in pain if he had been able to move. But he couldn’t. It hurt too badly.
Please, God. Help me out of this mess.
The sessions where he was fed were getting longer and longer. This time it had been going on for several hours. Meal after meal was brought into the small room, and spoon after spoon was brought to his mouth. Stanley was so tired and wanted so badly to sleep, but his guardian didn’t seem to want to take a break from this strange game. He barely had time to think about escape or how to save his granddaughter from the hands of this crazy person.
He had tried to grab the guardian’s wrists once to force the spoon away, but his guardian had let him know that wasn’t acceptable behavior by walking out of the room, then coming back with a fire poker that was soon after poked through Stanley’s right shin. The pain had made Stanley scream at the top of his lungs. And, then again—even worse this time—when it was pulled out again.
“Don’t ever do that again! Do you hear me?” the guardian yelled even louder.
Stanley wasn’t going to. He had to think of Elyse. If only he did what this mad person told him to, then maybe he would eventually be able to save her. There were many decisions he had made in his life that he wasn’t proud of. So many times he had done what he would later regret. It haunted him daily. But, this time, he was going to make the right decision. And that was to make sure nothing bad happened to Elyse. He would never be able to live with himself if it did.
“Open up, Stanley,” his guardian said, and forced yet another spoonful of potatoes into his mouth. He had to swallow in order to not choke. Stanley cried as the wave of pain struck through him. He couldn’t stand being in his body anymore. So much pain, so much aching. This time, he was certain he heard his stomach enlarging. He was sure it sounded like a balloon being blown up. Or maybe that was just how it felt.
Stanley moaned and closed his eyes. He tried to dream himself away, to think of something that would make him happy, anything that could take him away from this awful place, even Disney World would be better than this. Ah, yes. Disney World with Elyse seemed like Heaven compared to this. He groaned in sadness, feeling sorry for himself.
Was this nightmare ever going to end?
Chapter Twenty-Two
March 2015
Next morning, I woke up with all of my muscles sore from surfing the day before. The waves had been excellent and I had enjoyed myself, even though I couldn’t stop thinking about the email. Now, I was awake in my bed, while the waves crashed the beach outside my window. I stared at the ceiling, wondering what to do. Shannon was sleeping next to me, and I enjoyed listening to her deep breaths.
We had eaten dinner at my parents’ place the night before, and the kids played so well together. My mom told us to go have some fun without the kids for a change. Even Emily decided to stay at the motel, where my dad promised to teach them all to play pool. I had taken Shannon to Friday Fest downtown. I loved Friday Fest, where they locked down all of downtown for traffic, and there was music and people were everywhere. We had a wonderful evening and ended up letting all the kids sleep at the motel, since it was the weekend and spring break on top of it.
“Good morning, tiger,” Shannon said and opened her eyes.
I looked at her, feeling so proud to be with her. She was gorgeous, even after a night out and just waking up. It was unbelievable. My head was spinning. I felt like I was getting in trouble. There was no way out now. I was all in with her.
I leaned over and kissed her. She closed her eyes. “Good morning, gorgeous,” I said. “Thank you so much for a great night last night.”
“It was quite enjoyable, wasn’t it?”
“Sure was.”
I tasted her lips once more and forgot everything about the world around us for just a few seconds, then slipped under the covers and pulled her close to me. We made love while the sun rose over the Atlantic Ocean outside my windows. It was beautiful and so intense. I never wanted to
let go of her again.
We fell back asleep again and woke up at nine. “What do you say to coffee in bed?” I whispered. “You can stay right here all day. You don’t ever have to move again.”
Shannon laughed. “If only that was true.” She turned and looked into my eyes. “You know very well I have that gig at Runaway Country. I couldn’t say no to them when they called. I mean, it’s right here.”
Runaway Country was a music festival featuring country musicians from all over. It was all the big names, and naturally, the amazing Shannon King had to be one of them. It was a huge event around here and attracted thousands of people.
“I wish you had, though,” I said and kissed her again.
“What? You don’t want me on stage?” Shannon asked. “You don’t want thousands of people adoring the woman you love? What a big surprise, Detective Ryder.”
I chuckled. She was right. I never thought much of celebrities and the lifestyle they led. It seemed to me it hurt more people than it helped. I knew Shannon’s story of drug abuse and how the pressure of being a celebrity had a part in it. It wasn’t a healthy lifestyle and it complicated things. I wasn’t the jealous type, but I had thought about how I would feel if she took off on a tour that lasted several months. I knew the temptations and offers were many. She could easily find someone much more handsome and interesting than me. Would I be able to keep her?
I didn’t want to think about it. My phone vibrated on the table next to the bed. I groaned, stretched my arm out, and grabbed it. It was Ron. I sighed and rubbed my forehead.
“I gotta take this.”
“On a Saturday?”
“If Ron calls on a Saturday, I better take it. That means it’s serious. Ron appreciates his weekends more than anyone at the office. Believe me.”
“Ryder,” I said, with the phone to my ear. I got up and walked to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. Shannon whistled behind me as she watched my naked body. I smiled and shook my behind for her. She laughed.
“Ryder, Goddammit. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you need to come in today.”
That didn’t sound good. “What’s going on, Ron?”
“We have a body.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
March 2015
“What do we have?”
Ron was waiting for me in the parking lot when I drove up. The place was called The Grapefruit Trail, located on a strip of woods on the south shore of the Tillman Canal in Palm Bay on the mainland. It was a place where cyclists rode their mountain bikes on the hilly trails through the woods.
“A cyclist found something early this morning. He stopped to…well, to take a leak when he spotted something on the ground. He thought it looked strange and called us. We have to walk there.”
I followed Ron through the woods for about five minutes and was quickly surrounded by deep dense forest. It was a strange place, with many trails great for biking and hiking. It was also a place that was excellent for hiding a body, I thought.
“It’s right in here.”
The scene was already packed with crime scene technicians. It was blocked off, and two officers from Palm Bay Police blocked the entrance. We showed them our badges and were let inside. People roamed everywhere among the bushes. The vegetation was heavy.
“Watch where you step,” Ron said.
In a place like this, you had to watch for snakes. The area where the body had been found was almost impassable, but as we came closer, I could tell it was almost like a small clearing. Perfect for taking a leak without anyone seeing you, and perfect for hiding something you didn’t want to be found.
The remains of what was once a forty-something aged man had been pulled out of the soil. He was still wearing clothes, but by the decomposition, I guessed he had been dead for quite awhile.
“We found his wallet in his pants,” Ron said, and showed me a small plastic bag with an old leather wallet and a driver’s license in it with the name Daniel Millman. Date of birth told me he was forty-seven years old. At least, he would have been.
“Has the family been notified?” I asked.
Ron smirked.
“Oh, come on,” I said. “You want me to do it?”
“Take Beth with you. She can be the compassionate one.”
“I have a feeling you don’t know Beth very well,” I said.
Ron chuckled. Then he shook his head. “So what do you make of it?”
“I don’t know,” I said, kneeling next to the body. “He’s been in the ground for quite some time.”
“How long would you guess?”
I shrugged. “You can see how the animals have been eating off him here and here. The body was in the ground, but I’m guessing a fox or something might have tried to dig it out, then the rest of the animals could get to it. Dead things decompose fast here in Florida, but we have to remember, he was in the ground, where the temperature is lower, until the animals dug him out. You can see here and here on the ground where it has been disturbed by digging, and you can tell that his face was scratched when the animals tried to get him out. I’d say maybe three-four months?”
Ron nodded. I could tell the sight of the body moved him. He tried to never show it, but he was a softie. I remembered when I first discovered it. Right after I had moved here and started working at the Sheriff’s Office in Rockledge, Ron’s dog, the cutest labra-doodle, got sick and had to go through surgery and stay away overnight. Ron had tears in his eyes all day, and even though he tried to hide it, we could all see it. He was devastated and missed the dog like crazy. Ron was a family man. I liked that about him. Three kids and four grandchildren were his accomplishments and pride in life.
“So, what happened to Daniel Millman?” he asked with a sniff.
“There don’t seem to be any visual signs of trauma,” I said. “No bullet holes, no bleeding. It’s hard to tell if he was strangled when the body is decomposed like this, so we’ll have to wait till the ME finishes to determine if that’s the case.”
Ron cleared his throat. “So, are you going to call Beth or should I?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
March 2015
I picked up Beth at her home in Satellite Beach. She lived in a small house just a few blocks from the beach. In the yard played three kids in a jumpy-jump house, spraying each other with water from a hose. I smiled when I parked the car. I watched as Beth came out, kissed the kids, then sprang for the car. Boy, had I misjudged her.
“Mommy will be home in a few hours,” she yelled, as she jumped inside with her plump body into the passenger seat. “You behave, you hear?”
The kids hardly noticed. They were having too much fun. “I got the neighbor to watch them while we’re gone,” she said as I drove off. “I just hope they don’t burn the house down.”
I chuckled.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just didn’t know you had children.”
I continued towards Lansing Island in Indian Harbor Beach, where our victim lived when he was still alive.
“Well, I do,” she said with her usual harsh tone, letting me know I wasn’t getting any closer to her than this.
“Husband?”
“What’s with the questions all of a sudden?”
“Sorry. I just wanted to get to know my partner. That’s all.” I took a turn and hit the entrance to the island.
Lansing Island was a gated island, where I had been told Bruce Willis owned a house. I didn’t know if it was true; there were a lot of rumors about it, as there always were with places only few people were allowed to enter. The island was located in the river and had the most spectacular houses of anywhere around here. I drove up to the gate and a uniformed man came out. I showed him my badge.
“We’re here to see Mrs. Millman.”
“Is she expecting you?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No.”
The guard nodded with a sigh. He understood. “I’ll let you in. She’s in 219.”
He went i
nside his small guard house, pressed the button, and the gate opened. I drove by and waved to the guard. I drove past many gorgeous houses and could hardly believe anyone lived like this. It was as far from my world as it could possibly be. Not that I would ever trade for anything.
“219, it’s here,” Beth said.
I looked out the window and spotted a house of about ten-thousand square feet. Maybe even more. It was huge. The gate wasn’t closed, so we drove right through. I parked in the enormous driveway, then walked up towards the front door, closely followed by Beth. I found a doorbell and rang it. I took in a deep breath as I heard footsteps approaching behind it. It opened. A woman in her early thirties looked at us, surprised. The look in her eyes made her seem sad. I wondered if she already knew.
“Mrs. Millman?”
“Yes?”
I showed her my badge. “I’m detective Ryder. This is my partner. We’re from the Sheriff’s office. Can we come in?”
“Of course.” The woman stepped aside.
We walked inside the foyer with its marble floors. Mrs. Millman closed the door behind us. She showed us the way into the library, which had the most spectacular views over the river.
“Do you want anything?” she asked. “Coffee?” I detected nervousness in her voice. Her eyes were avoiding ours.
“No, thank you. We’re good.”
“Do sit down.” She pointed at the set of leather chairs and we sat down. She put her hands in her lap. It seemed like she had to pull herself together to focus. I was wondering if she was on something. She didn’t smell like alcohol, but something was off.
“I’m afraid we have some bad news,” I said.
She nodded, like she was expecting this.
“Your husband…we found his body this morning.”