STATE OF BETRAYAL: A Virgil Jones Mystery (Detective Virgil Jones Mystery Series Book 2) (17 page)

“Why do I feel like I’m getting
rolled?”

 “Welcome to the MCU, Ron.”

“Yeah. Like I haven’t heard that
before.”

__________

“So what was she
working on?”

Miles chewed on his lip for a few
seconds. “Okay, this is not public knowledge. Are we clear on that?”

“You bet.”

Pope left a message. It was written
in blood…his blood and it was under the sofa. The crime scene techs took about
twenty different pictures of it.”

“What did it say?”

“It listed his killer’s name and
address. How the hell do I know what it said? It was some kind of coded message…a
series of numbers. No one can figure it out. Becky was going to go to work on
it for me.”

“Do you have it with you? The
picture?”

“No, but I can email it to you
later today.”

“Do that.”

Miles gave him a defeated look.
“Anything else I can get you, or do you now have enough information to solve this
case?”

“Hmm, that should do it.” Then,
just as quick Virgil thought of something else. “You said you could email me
the photo?”

“Yeah, but I have to do it from the
office.”

“Send it from your phone.”

“I didn’t know I could do that. It
wasn’t covered in the class.”

“Let me see your phone…”

19

__________

“S
o
he hasn’t said anything else to you?” Monroe asked. Pearson had a mouthful of toothbrush
and held up a wait-a-minute finger. He rinsed, spat, rinsed again, tipped his
head back, did a little gargle and then spit the contents into the basin. He
turned the water off without bothering to clean out the sink. They were at
Monroe’s condo.

“It’s been less than a week, Abby,
and we’ve had no reason to speak with each other.”

“So you think we’re good? I’m okay
in all of this, right?”

“You’ll be fine as long as you keep
doing what I tell you.”

Monroe knew she had a problem, said
problem being she didn’t quite know how to keep her mouth shut. She had babbled
on and on to the cop and that could have hurt her, but it looked like Pearson
had fixed that. Except he fixed it by telling him they were sleeping together
and she had been ashamed to admit it.
Jesus.
She had to give Bradley
credit though, didn’t she? He said never lie to the cops and then he marched right
out there and told the truth.

So given that, after the cop left
Abby felt like
she
had to tell Pearson the truth. She began yammering on
and on until the words were pouring out of her mouth like a runaway freight train.
She had already told him about Nicky—how they had been sleeping
together—and now she told him how he’d had a plan to cheat the lottery
system. She even told him of their plans to take the money and run. After she’d
confessed everything to Pearson, she thought he’d be furious with her. Instead,
he just smiled, put his arms around her and said everything would be just fine.
All she had to do was follow his direction. Do what he wanted, when he wanted
it.

“You can do that, can’t you, Abby?”
he’d asked her.

In the moment she’d been so relieved
she almost cried. Now, not even a week later she thought she’d do just about
anything to get out from under him, though she didn’t yet know what that
something might be. She’d have to figure that out. He couldn’t blackmail her
forever, could he? What, she was supposed to be his personal sexual assistant
for the rest of her life? Fuck that.

“I want you to come over to my
place tonight. Pack a bag too. I’d like you to stay for the weekend. I like
having a woman around the house.”

“Oh, Bradley…I don’t know. I’m
awfully tired. How about next weekend?”

Pearson smiled at her. “Sure,
that’d be fine with me. Do you think you’ll be out of jail by then?”

“Jail?
Jail?
” Now you listen
to me you disgusting little—”

“Careful there, Abigail. Wouldn’t
want to say anything you can’t take back now, would you? Seems you’ve got a bit
of a problem in that area…letting your mouth get the better of you. I know it’s
certainly got the better of me on occasion. So, let’s just keep everything nice
and friendly, shall we? How does six o’clock sound? And on second thought,
don’t bother with the bag. I don’t think we’ll be going out much…at all.”

__________

Pearson walked out
of Monroe’s condo and dialed Pate’s number. “We
should have a conversation.”

“Regarding?”

“A minor complication.” Pearson
said.

“How minor?”

“Nothing we can’t handle.”

“Does it impact our arrangement?”

“There is some potential for that.”

“I’m at my office.”

“I’m on my way.”

__________

Pate’s office was
luxurious.
Pearson had been there before, so he knew the way up. The
reception area was deserted…Saturday…but Pate’s outer office door was open. When
Pearson walked inside he sat down and came clean right out of the gate. Mostly
clean, anyway.

“Last time we were together,
Bradley, if I’m not mistaken—and I rarely am—you indicated to me
that you were not romantically involved with Ms. Monroe.”

“And I’m not.”

“But you are fucking her.”

“Well, yeah. Jesus, have you seen
her?”

“Yes, we’ve met a number of times,
you know that.”

“Figure of speech, Gus. Listen, none
of that matters. In fact, when you hear what I’m about to tell you, you’re
going to appreciate my initiative. As it turns out, Abby was having an affair
with one of her programmers. Care to guess which one?”

Pate was behind his desk. He
swiveled his chair ninety degrees to the left, looked away from Pearson and did
a few quick calculations in his head. On Monday the unclaimed lottery money
would go into the state’s discretionary fund. Once there, literally within
seconds, the money would be transferred to various API accounts—that had
been set up for months now, all nicely written into the legislation and the
contract Pate held with the state—so no problem there. But…the dead
programmer, Pope, he would be a problem. If word got out that Monroe had been
sleeping with him, far too many questions would be asked. Questions that Pate
wouldn’t want to answer.

“Yoo-hoo, Gus? Anybody home?”
Pearson said.

Pate looked at him. What an idiot.
Here was someone who was only days away from his share of millions of dollars
and he couldn’t keep his pants zipped up long enough to make a bank deposit.
Was this all it took to qualify to be the governor’s chief of staff? “I can
assure you, Bradley, I am most definitely home, as you put it. I’d like to have
a conversation with Ms. Monroe.”

“She’s at her condo right now. I
just came from there.”

“Not now. Tonight. Can you make
that happen?”

“Sure. She’s coming over to my
place at six. Why don’t you stop by after that? We’ll be there all night. You
know where I live, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do. I’ll see you tonight.”

__________

After Pearson left the
office,
Pate took out his cellphone and made a call. “Where are we with
our side project?”

“I’m heading out there now,” Hector
said.

“We can’t afford any mistakes at
this point.”

“There won’t be any.”

“We also have to pay a visit to Mr.
Pearson and Ms. Monroe. Pick me up tonight at home. Eight o’clock. Come
prepared.”

“Eight o’clock,” Hector said.

Pate ended the call without saying
anything else. Hector knew the drill.

20

__________

V
irgil
showed Ron how to access his email from his cellphone then had him send the
picture. The first time he sent it the picture wasn’t attached, so he had to
repeat the process before it came through. Once he had it, Virgil sent it
directly to his printer.

“How do you do that?” Ron said.

“I took a class. Listen…let me get
to work on this.”

“What exactly are you going to do?”

Virgil smiled. “I’m going to let my
researcher handle it.”

Miles shook his head. “That’s just
wrong.”

“Says the guy with my old job.”

“Speaking of your old job…tell me
more about this discretionary budget. No one said anything to me about it…”

__________

Nichole Pope stood
at the back of the mini-mart, near the candy and chips and bottled soft drinks.
She had a clear view of both the parking lot outside and the front counter. She
looked in the cooler as if trying to decide which type of drink she wanted. A
little girl pulled her father along by his hand and they stopped right next to
her. They were smiling and laughing and teasing each other and as Nichole
watched them she realized she felt nothing at all. She had no memories of those
types of interactions with her father before he’d been killed. There was no
frame of reference. There had never been any smiling or laughing or teasing for
her. There’d been nothing, really. Just the basics, like food, shelter,
clothing. There had been a lot of fighting with her mother. She remembered
that.
It hadn’t been all bad, though. There was that one good birthday when she’d
gotten a bicycle…

The man had been speaking to her
and she’d missed it. “I’m sorry, Miss, would you excuse us please? I’d like to
get in the cooler right there for a bottle of water.”

Nichole stepped back out of the
way.

“Are you okay, Miss? You look a
little—”

“I’m fine,” Nichole said. “Thank
you.”

“You bet. Have a nice day.”

Nichole smiled at the little girl,
then looked at the man. “It’s far too easy for a father to break his little
girl’s heart. Those types of wounds take a long time to heal. Sometimes they
never heal at all.”

The man gave her an odd look,
scooped up his child and walked away.

__________

Nichole was so lost
with thoughts of her father and the childhood she never really had that she
almost missed Pearson. He’d already parked his car and was walking into the
store. Her timing would have to be perfect here. She waited until he’d filled a
cup of coffee, grabbed a newspaper from the rack and walked up to the counter
to pay. When he took out his wallet she started moving to the front of the
store, her head down. Didn’t want to attract any unnecessary attention. Not
this close.

__________

Pearson paid for his
items
and stuck the change in his pocket. He had a newspaper in one hand
and a hot cup of coffee in the other as he moved toward the door. His hands
were full so he turned himself around to push the door open with his ass. Just
as he turned a young woman stepped up to the door and said, “Here, let me get
that for you.” She pushed the door open, stepped outside and held it for him as
he walked through. Pearson told her thanks, then he tucked the newspaper under
his other arm and reached into his pocket for his car keys.

__________

Nichole held the door
for Pearson as he stepped through. She saw him tuck the paper and reach into
his pocket. The entire performance was going to last about five seconds. She turned
and walked right with him, stuck her hand in the crook of his elbow and said, “Why,
it’s my pleasure, sir.” She leaned her head against his shoulder and smiled.
“Anything for a handsome devil like you.”

__________

Pearson was so shocked
by the woman’s behavior he stopped and turned toward her. “Do we know each
other?”

She smiled even brighter and
laughed out loud. Then she placed her other hand across his chest “Nope. I’m
just a happy girl. Smile with me. You’ll feel like a million bucks.”

Pearson thought
what the hell is
this?
But he smiled right along with her, it was just that unusual of a
moment. Two seconds later he was laughing as well. Right after that the young
woman let go of Pearson’s arm, told him to enjoy his life and walked away.

__________

After Ron left,
Virgil
drove over to Murton’s house, walked up the front steps and knocked on the
door. Becky answered a few seconds later wearing nothing except one of Murton’s
white T-shirts.

“We’re in the kitchen. Come on
back,” she said. She walked ahead of him and Virgil couldn’t help but notice
that the shirt was barely long enough to cover her butt.

Murton was at the stove. He had two
pans going, one filled with bacon and the other scrambled eggs. Becky walked up
behind him, stood on her toes and kissed the back of his neck. When she did,
the shirt rode up on her ass.

Murton turned and looked at me.
“When was the last time you ever knocked on the front door before walking into
this house?”

“That might have been a first,”
Virgil admitted.

“Make sure it’s the last.”

“It’s your house now Murt, not some
place out of the past.”

“Why can’t it be both?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it can.”

“Well, my house means my rules. No
knocking for the guy who grew up here.”

“If you say so.”

“I say so.”

The three of them looked at each
other for a few seconds, before Virgil said, “So you guys, are…what?”

Becky sort of scrunched her
shoulders. “Hungry. Have a seat.”

Murton brought two plates of bacon
and eggs with buttered wheat toast over to the table. He set one plate in front
of Becky and the other in front of his chair. Once they were seated, the two of
them began to eat. After a few seconds Virgil cleared his throat.

“Yeah, like I need that kind of
grief,” Murton said with a mouthful of eggs. “Small would hang me by my colon
from a meat hook. You’re supposed to be juicing. The Gerson thing, remember?”

 Becky looked at Virgil. “He’s
right. And let me tell you this: You can stare at my ass all you want. I kind
of like it. Most women do no matter what they tell you. But quit staring at my
fucking eggs like that or I
will
punch you again. You’ve single-handedly
redefined the term eyeballing. It gives me the willies.”

__________

When they were
finished
eating, Becky got up from the table, dug through her purse and pulled out a
slip of paper. “Here’s what it’s going to take, if you want to do it right.” She
looked at the list for a moment, nodded once to herself then read them the
items. “A high speed internet connection. And I’m not talking about one of
those low budget high-speed deals like Comcast is always trying to sell you.
What is that, three megs? A three meg line might be good enough to occupy a
neglected second grader while mommy humps the pool boy, but it won’t cut it for
what I do. Also, let’s talk cellphones. I suggest you go with Sprint. They’re
about the only ones who really do give you unlimited data anymore. Wait, I take
that back. They
are
the only ones. I prefer the iPhone. I’ve got the 5
right now, but the 6 is better, I don’t care who you are. You want to know
about computers? Okay. I’m going to need two of the 12-core Mac Pro’s. They’ve
got twelve gigs of memory and a one terabyte hard drive each. They’re a little
pricey, but worth every penny.”

“Why do you need two?”

“One for here, and one for the
office at the bar.”

“How much will all that cost?”
Virgil asked.

“Hmm, somewhere between six and eight
should do it.”

“
Thousand
?”

Becky let her eyelids droop. “No,
cents, Sherlock. But like I said, that’s if you want to do it right.”

“How much to do it sort of right?”

She thought about that for a
minute. “Short term, about half that amount. Long term, about three times as
much.”

Murton rolled onto his left hip,
pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed Becky his Amex card. “Do it
right.”

She hopped up from the table, kissed
Murton and took the card. “I always do. I better go get dressed.” Then she
wiggled the card in front of us. “Hey, what about my hair? I was thinking about
getting it cut anyway…”

They watched her walk out of the
kitchen and Murton said, “Wow, she’s a pistol, huh?”

__________

Fifteen minutes later
Becky was dressed and ready. “I just emailed you a photo that the crime scene
techs took at Pope’s apartment,” Virgil said. “Ron gave it to me. Can you take
a look at it? You know, research it?”

“The one with the code? I’ve seen
that photo,” Becky said. “Ron already gave it to me.”

“Were you able to figure anything
out?”

“Hadn’t even started on it yet.”

“Let’s make that our priority,
okay?”

“I’ll get to work on it just as
soon as I get my gear set up.”

“Do that.”

“Say, shouldn’t we hammer out my
salary and bennies?”

Virgil gave her a slow blink.
“We’ll match whatever you were making at the state. I’ll let you and Murton
work out the, uh, bennies.”

Becky frowned. “So, a lateral move
then, huh?”

Murton: “Hey, now.”

__________

In Virgil’s truck.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?”

Murton set a small duffle by his
feet. “I guess I’m not sure what you’re asking me, Jonesy. Are you asking about
Becky the researcher, or Becky the girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“To be perfectly honest, I’m basing
her research abilities on what you’ve told me. I’m basing her other abilities
on firsthand knowledge of the situation as it has been presented to me.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, when
did that presentation begin?”

“About a month and a half ago. Boy,
you have been out of it, haven’t you?”

Murton was right. Virgil was
beginning to notice some of the things he’d missed over the last few months,
the medication dulling his awareness and his desire to care. “I guess I have.
It looks like she’s all but moved in.”

“We’ve been living together at her
place for a couple of weeks now. After I found out your dad had left me his
place, well, we decided since we were already living together we might as well
take the house. A lot more room, that’s for sure.”

“Seems kind of fast, if you ask
me.”

“I don’t and I’m not…Mr. Small.
Besides, my house, my rules, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Fucking partners.

__________

Virgil dropped the
truck in gear,
but held his foot on the brake. “So, where to?”

Murton took a slip of paper from
his pocket and then entered an address into the truck’s navigation system.
“Thirty-two minutes…if you drive the speed limit.”

Virgil looked at the route
displayed on the screen. “That’s in Hendricks County.”

“Yep.”

“What is it?”

“Abandoned warehouse.”

“And we’re going there why?” Virgil
asked.

“Because it’s going to catch on
fire this morning, or more precisely, someone is going to set it on fire.
Probably about an hour from now. Come on, man, take your foot off the brake. We
don’t want to be late.”

“And how, exactly, do we know
this?”

“Becky told me, how else?”

They turned out into the street and
began driving north. “She just, what? Figured it out?”

“Uh huh.”

Virgil shook his head.

“What?” Murton said. “She mapped it
out. If you look at the dates, times and locations of the fires, you’ll see there’s
a little bit of a pattern there.”

“A pattern, or a little bit of a
pattern?”

“Quit splitting hairs, will you? According
to the computer program she wrote—some C++ bullshit that I don’t
understand—the next fire is going to be at the address where we’re
headed. And if you don’t stop driving like a little old lady, we might actually
get there in time to catch whoever is getting his jollies by burning empty
buildings to the ground.”

“I see. What’s in the bag?”

“Supplies.”

A half hour later they turned into
one of Hendricks County’s many abandoned industrial parks. The recession had
hit the area hard and every single warehouse in the complex was empty. Murton
pointed to the left. “There you go, up ahead and just past the intersection.
That’s the one. Drive on past and let’s come around from the back side.”

They rolled past and then turned
left at the end of the service road and wound their way around to the front of
another building one street over from the address on the nav system. “You sure
about this?”

“What’s not to be sure about? It’s
billable hours. If she’s wrong, we’ll keep investigating. If she’s right, we
earned ten grand the easy way.”

“What ten grand?”

“Jerry sent a check over yesterday.”

“So we’re up twenty grand in two
days and we haven’t actually done anything yet? We should have done this a long
time ago.” Virgil opened the door. “Come on, let’s go have a look.”