Jack Ryder Mystery Series: Vol 1-3

  “What’s going on around here?” Weasel asked, wiping her sweaty forehead with a tissue. It was a very moist evening.

  “It never used to be like this,” she continued. “What do you make of it?”

  “Let’s just say, I hardly think it’s a coincidence that she is a big John Platt fan,” I said.

  “You think she knew something?” Weasel asked. “You don’t think she…she killed Laura?”

  I shrugged. “I think she might have known something. Something important. Who was she? What do we know about her?”

  “She used to be a reporter for Florida Today, but retired early four years ago,” Joel said as he approached us. “Sorry to interrupt, but I just spoke with her daughter up in New York. She’s on her way down. Caught a late flight out. Should be here late tonight.”

  I looked at Joel. He seemed a lot more together than the last time I had seen him. He was still sweating heavily, but we all were.

  “Perfect,” I said. “Have her come and talk to me tomorrow morning. And I need everything secured from Rhonda Harris’ house. Every notebook, her computer, everything she has in those drawers. If she has a knife, I want it checked for blood or Laura Bennett’s DNA.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  January 2015

  The waves were crashing on the beach when I woke up the next morning. I had slept with my window open to the balcony. They were luring me in. The sound was intoxicating. They were definitely calling for me.

  I felt exhausted when I finally sat up. I didn’t arrive to pick up the kids from my parents’ place till around nine-thirty the night before. Emily had gone back to the condo by herself, but the twins were fast asleep, so my mother suggested they stay for the night. They had decorated a bedroom for them with bunk beds and SpongeBob posters and everything, and the kids loved sleeping over, so I told her all right and went back to spend the rest of the evening with Emily. We watched a movie together and I made popcorn. I got the feeling she enjoyed it, even though she didn’t say so. It was just like back in Miami before the twins had come into our lives. Just Emily and me. I couldn’t help looking at her when she didn’t see it. I saw so much of her mother in her, more and more every day now. I missed Lisa. She had been the best colleague and friend I had ever had. I was happy I got to see her daughter grow up.

  When I woke up at six, I put on my wetsuit, but left the upper part hanging from my waist, grabbed my board, and ran with it across the beach to my parents’ motel.

  “Daaad!” Austin smiled happily when he saw me. They were sitting on the wooden deck eating waffles. I kissed them both.

  “Where were you last night?” Abigail asked. “You never came back.”

  I sat down next to her and grabbed a waffle for myself. My mother brought me orange juice in a glass. It was freshly squeezed. Nothing beats Florida oranges. “I had to work,” I said.

  “Did you catch the killer?” Austin asked, excited.

  I shook my head and took another bite of my waffle. My mom brought me coffee. “Thank you,” I said, and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. “Dad’s still sleeping?”

  She nodded.

  “So, did you?” Austin asked again.

  “Nope. Not yet.”

  The Millers came down the stairs and grabbed the table next to us. I smiled and nodded. My mother brought them breakfast while they discussed Blue Springs State Park, where they were going today.

  “We hope to see some manatees,” Mrs. Miller said.

  “You should be able to,” my mother replied, while pouring coffee for them. “At this time of year, there are a lot of them up there at the springs. They like that the water stays the same temperature all year around, you know?”

  “So, are you going to catch the killer today?” Austin asked with his mouth full.

  I chuckled. “I hope so.”

  “It’s not that easy, Austin,” Abigail growled, sounding like the true big sister she was with her fifty-eight seconds. “First, they have to gather all the evidence and talk to a lot of people before they can put him away. It’s not all like in the movies.”

  Austin made a grimace at his sister. She threw a waffle at him.

  “Hey, hey,” I stopped them. “I won’t have you fighting. You hear me? We’re family. We need to stick together. Now, did you have a good time with Grandma and Grandpa?”

  Austin and Abigail both nodded.

  “Good. They will pick you up today from school again. It’s early release day, and I have asked them to step in, since I’ll be busy with the big case. All right?”

  They looked at each other, then cheered.

  “Yaay!”

  I walked them to the school bus and kissed both of them goodbye as Mrs. Sharon opened the doors to the big yellow bus.

  “Now, be good today. Don’t get in trouble, all right?” I said.

  “You too, Dad,” Abigail said, and kissed my nose as I bent down to look into her eyes. “Stay out of trouble.”

  I laughed and waved as the bus disappeared, then I sprang for my board and threw myself into the waves.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  January 2015

  “SHE LEFT A NOTE.”

  I looked at Kate Mueller, sitting across the table from me. From the pictures I had seen of Rhonda Harris, I’d say the daughter took more after her father.

  I pushed the note in the small plastic bag across the table so she could see it. She leaned over and put on her glasses.

  She read it, then looked up at me.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked. “Why would she write this? Why would she write I can’t live with myself? I’m sorry? I don’t quite understand. What did she do, Officer?”

  I leaned forward in my chair. My wet hair fell onto my face. I removed the lock and pulled it all back. I thought for a second about my mother, who always wanted me to cut my hair, and now Abigail had started saying it too. But I liked having long hair, even if the girls in my life didn’t think it was suitable for a detective.

  My blood was still pumping fast through my veins from the surfing. The exhaustion was gone. I felt more alive than ever and more determined to solve this case than ever. Nothing like a good surf session to clear my brain.

  “That’s kind of what I was hoping you would clear up for me.”

  Kate Mueller shook her head. Her blond hair was set in a ponytail. Her face looked terrified.

  “I don’t believe any of this, Officer. My mother…my mother would never kill herself. She was so happy lately. The last couple of years, she has been so happy. We were going on a cruise next month. She invited us…she was the one who wanted to spend more time with her grandchildren.”

  “Can you verify it is her handwriting?”

  “Yes. That is my mother’s handwriting.”

  “Good. Now, returning to what you just said. I take it you wouldn’t say she had been suicidal?”

  “Not at all, Officer. Not at all. On the contrary.” Kate Mueller’s blue eyes stared intensely at me. “I have never seen her happier.”

  I wrote her statement on my notepad, then looked up at her again. “I hate to ask this, but I have to. Do you think she would be capable of committing murder?”

  Kate Mueller looked at me, baffled. She put a hand to her chest. “Murder? You think that’s what the note meant?”

  “Her neighbor from across the street was found killed just two days ago. It does come off a little suspicious.”

  “I…I have never…no. Not my mother. She was the sweetest old lady. We might have had our differences, but not…that. She couldn’t.”

  I nodded and wrote it down. I wasn’t expecting her own daughter to tell me her mother was a murderer anyway, but I had to ask. I moved on with the interview.

  “She used to work at Florida Today as a reporter, you say? But she retired early?”

  “Yes. My mother was a writer. Always had been. Before she had me, she dreamt about being an author, but as you know, most people can’t live off of that, so she
had to work as a journalist for a living to support me. She was alone with me. My dad died when I was seven. Up until then, she hadn’t worked a day in her life. But then she had to. She was lucky to get the job there, even though she didn’t like it much.”

  “Why didn’t she like it?”

  Kate Mueller shrugged. “I don’t know. She didn’t like to have someone telling her what to write and what not to write. She wanted to make up her own stories.”

  “So, she liked to read as well, I assume. We found all of John Platt’s books in her bedroom. Was she especially fond of him?”

  Kate Mueller looked surprised. “Not that I know of,” she said. “She never liked thrillers or mysteries much.”

  I showed her a picture of the many books spread on the rug and on her desk. “It seems to me she really enjoyed reading his books, don’t you think?”

  Kate Mueller stared at the photo, then back at me. “I don’t know what to say to that. People change their taste, I guess.”

  “Okay,” I said, and put the picture away. “You say she retired early. How come?”

  “I…she was tired of working for the paper, so she told them she wanted to retire. I think it was good for her. She became a much happier person afterwards.”

  “And that was four years ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did she do since?” I asked.

  Kate Mueller shrugged again. “I don’t know. I never visited her much. To be honest, we never had a real close relationship. I always sensed that she was bitter at me. You know, for making her quit her dream. It was because of me she had to stop writing books and trying to get them published. She had no choice when my dad died. I guess she kind of resented me for that.”

  “But, she did invite you on a cruise?” I asked.

  “The last two years or so she has been trying to get back into my life. Last year, we all went to Paris together. She was the one who invited us and paid for everything, so I could hardly say no, even though my husband isn’t that fond of my mother. And I guess I really wanted her to be a part of my children’s lives. And, maybe…maybe I was hoping she would forgive me for ruining her life.”

  Kate Mueller sniffled. I saw tears pile in her eyes. I handed her a pack of tissues and poured her some water.

  “How did she get the money for all this?” I asked. “A trip for five people to Paris isn’t cheap. Neither is a cruise.”

  Kate Mueller shrugged again with a sniffle. “She said she had saved a lot of money up. Maybe her pension? I…I never thought to ask.”

  Chapter Thirty

  January 2015

  “I think I’m going to leave John. I’ve already contacted a lawyer. I want out.”

  Melanie Schultz looked at her friends around the table at the restaurant. Sylvia gasped and almost choked on her Chardonnay.

  “I thought you were happy with the way things were,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

  Melanie shrugged and picked up a tomato with her fork and ate it. Her two-year-old son, Sebastian, was babbling something from his high chair. She gave him a piece of bread to nibble. It had been two hard years with him. She knew she was throwing a bomb on her friends.

  “I’m not sure I can live like this anymore,” she said. “I mean it’s only a matter of time before he finds out about me and Pete, and then it’s all over.”

  “But…but isn’t there something we can do? Can’t you solve it somehow?” Sylvia said, looking at the others for backup. “I really didn’t think it would go this far. Maybe you’re just being hasty here. I mean…you have to think it through, don’t you? Have you thought about Sebastian?”

  Melanie shrugged and ate another tomato from her salad. She really wasn’t that fond of salads, and would have preferred to have a sandwich or a taco, but all the other girls always picked salads, and she didn’t want to be the only one being unhealthy.

  “He’ll stay half the time with me and half with John, I guess.”

  “But, John is always traveling,” Molly said. Her face was terrified, her lips tight. “I agree with Sylvia on this. I really think you should think it through.”

  “I have thought it through. Believe me. He’ll just have to stay with me most of the time, then.”

  “Oh, it’s going to crush John. You do realize that, right? It will completely crush him,” Molly continued. “He loves Sebastian. And he absolutely adores you. He does everything for you. Do you really want to leave that?”

  Melanie felt a pinch of guilt in her heart. Molly was right. That was why she hadn’t left him before now. She knew it was going to kill him. He loved her to death. The problem was that she didn’t love him back. Never had. She married him because it was the sensible thing to do, because he would take care of her, because that was the way her mother had raised her. All of her teenage years, she had told her how important it was to marry well, to make sure you found a husband that could support you so you didn’t have to work. So you could stay home with the children and take care of the house.

  But Melanie never really enjoyed staying home with Sebastian. She had liked it when she worked as a secretary at the big law firm in Orlando. She liked staying busy, having colleagues, and having something to do every day…places to be and people to talk to. She never enjoyed just taking care of her baby. She loved Sebastian, of course she did, but it wasn’t what she wanted out of her life. She never wanted a loveless marriage and being a staying-at-home mom. She wanted more. She wanted to work. She wanted to go places. To see the world, to meet interesting people and eat exotic food. She wanted to be with grown-up people every day and talk about other things than her child and how to raise him or how to get rid of a rash or how to lose the baby weight while sipping Chardonnay.

  There has to be more to adult life than this!

  And now she had met a man she really liked. He made her life more interesting. She knew it was wrong, and felt so guilty about seeing him. But it wasn’t just about the sex anymore. It was more. They had long talks afterwards. She liked talking to him. He was so interesting. Nothing like John. She was falling for Pete. She was starting to see him as her way out of her suburban boredom. She was going to talk to him about it today. Tonight, she was going to tell John. It was like ripping off a Band-Aid…the faster, the better.

  “I know,” she told her friends. “I know it’s going to be hard, but it’s what I want. I want to move on with my life. I hope John will understand. And I hope you will too.”

  She could tell by the look on her friends’ faces that they didn’t. They didn’t want to. They all enjoyed their lives and didn’t like the way she was suddenly questioning hers. It was written all over their faces.

  We thought you were one of us.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  January 2015

  He was looking at her through the window of his truck. Melanie was her name. She was beautiful. Everything about her was so intoxicating. The Snakecharmer had been observing her for quite a while…months, actually. She and her friends always went to the same place for lunch on Wednesdays with their babies in their strollers. They ate Cobb salads and drank white wine while talking. The same procedure every Wednesday.

  Her long painted fingernails were playing with her hair while she spoke to her friends in the parking lot outside the restaurant. They were saying their goodbyes. He rolled down his window and peeked out.

  “Hey there,” he said. “Can I give you girls a ride anywhere?”

  They looked at one another and laughed. “In that thing?” one asked with a shiver.

  The three of them shook their heads. The condescending look on their faces was saying, Who does he think he is? Why is he talking to us?

  The Snakecharmer laughed. He pulled his arm inside the window.

  “All right, ladies. Suit yourselves.”

  He backed out of the parking lot and drove off with a grin on his face. He watched them shake their heads in his rearview mirror before he drove onto the street, took a right turn, then took
a small street down and ended up in front of a big house in a nice neighborhood. He stopped the engine.

  Then he waited.

  Minutes later, he spotted the woman driving down the street in her brown Audi. She parked the car in the driveway and got out on her high heels. She grabbed the baby from the back seat and placed him on her hip. He smiled and watched her from afar. Such a gorgeous woman with such a perfect life. Such a shame.

  “Yes, that’s right. I know where you live, little bitch. I know everything about you.”

  He waited till she walked inside her house before he got out of the car, then he walked into the neighbor’s yard, crawled over the wall, and landed in her yard. He knew his way around. He walked up to the back porch with the pool area and watched her through the large windows as she put the baby in a playpen. He hid while watching her open the sliding doors leading to the yard to let the cat out, leaving them open.

  It was almost too easy.

  He didn’t have to wait long before the car drove up. He looked at his watch. It was two o’clock.

  “Right on time, as usual, Your Honor,” he mumbled, as he watched the judge get out of his black Cadillac Escalade and trot up the driveway wearing his black suit. He was looking over his shoulder to make sure no one saw him. Lucky for him, the driveway was surrounded by big walls, just as the entire house was. People always thought they were protecting themselves by putting up walls around their property, when in reality, they just made it easier for people like the Snakecharmer to act without risk of being seen.

  He heard the doorbell ring, then the door open, and soon he saw the judge and the woman cuddled up in a warm embrace against the wall of the foyer.

  He watched them through the big windows on the porch. “I guess this court is now in session,” he whispered. “The Honorable Judge Martin presiding.”

  As usual, he could see everything they did. As usual, he could follow their every move when the judge pulled up her skirt and threw her up against the wall. When she pulled down his pants and took him in her mouth. When he lifted her up and threw her on the dining room table and entered her from behind. Yes, everything up until now was just as usual on a Wednesday afternoon in Cocoa Beach.