Jason Deas - Benny James 03 - Brushed Away (7 page)

“He reflects.”

“He does what?”

“He reflects the personalities he is consumed with at the time. He is always different. If you talk to him long enough, he will start to sound like you. Have you noticed it?”

“I haven’t.”

“He hasn’t known you long enough then. After three exposures to you—he will be able to mimic you perfectly.”

“No way.”

“Just wait.”

“Is he dangerous?”

“Only if he sees dangerous. It’s one of the reasons we don’t have television. Besides all of the other obvious reasons.” Nina laughed softly.

“What about the art?” Benny asked.

“He’s never made a piece of art in his life.”

Benny blanked.

Nina laughed.

“You don’t get shocked often, Mr. James. It’s quite cute.”

 Nina blushed and began fiddling with some of her art supplies.

“Then who made it all?”

“I did.”

Benny’s face turned white.

“Even the sculptures?” Benny asked.

“Yes. Even the sculptures.” Nina studied an unmarked jar that sat among another dozen or so other unmarked jars and unscrewed the lid. A fan behind her pushed the air toward Benny.

Benny thought the lights were getting brighter and he wondered how that could happen when they were already the brightest lights he had ever seen. Blood bubbled up from his toes to his head and swirled. Benny fainted.

Chapter 8

Chief Neighbors had a mirror inside his desk drawer. He pulled the drawer open and checked himself. He closed it and picked up the phone. He had a redhead and an urgent call waiting.

“You had better get your boy in check,” Big E said.

“Come again, my boy?” Chief Neighbors did not have too much going for him morally, but he
was
protective of his officers.

“You heard me, Charles. Your boy is out of line,” Big E repeated.

“I’ll speak to him,” Chief Neighbors said, slumping down in his chair. Although Big E’s marina was in a different county, they shared the same lake and Big E didn’t like owning only half of anything. He gave generously to Chief Neighbors’ reelection campaign every four years.

“You’d better,” Big E said, hanging up the phone.

Chief Neighbors stood and began pacing his office.

Big E began pacing his as well. His office overlooked the lake with a picture perfect view. The lake house sat atop a steep slope. Big E sometimes thought of himself as a King looking down on his kingdom as he peered across the waters. Not being one who cared to exercise or exert too much energy, Big E had paid big bucks for a paving company to construct a wide sidewalk so he could drive a golf cart up and down to get to and from the dock and his boats.

The office was converted from a home he bought dirt cheap in foreclosure. He turned the spacious great room into a boardroom of sorts, including a large conference table to one side, which had seldom been used. Big E had gutted two of the bedrooms to make the great room even larger. With the help of an interior designer and some talented carpenters, the room rivaled New York city’s finest office spaces.

Although Big E was not an art aficionado, he collected pieces, as he saw art as a sign of wealth. Expensive paintings graced the walls and eclectic sculptures were thoughtfully placed throughout the room. He rarely studied the paintings as they meant very little to him. One of the paintings did pique his curiosity and he found himself lost in it more and more. Something about it tugged at his mind. It was painted by a local artist—Nina Oglethorpe.

Chief Neighbors summoned Vernon and Benny to his office. They arrived separately, but at the same time.

“What’s this about?” Benny asked as the two men neared the front door.

“I don’t know, but he was pissed.”

The tiny police department was empty. Chief Neighbors’ office door was closed. Vernon knocked. And waited.

A full minute later the door opened. A redhead in sunglasses walked out with her head pointed toward the floor. Her hair and clothes were tousled.

Vernon smirked. Benny chuckled. They walked into the office.

“Afternoon meeting?” Benny asked.

“Yes,” Chief Neighbors said, trying to tuck his shirt into his pants as he was still seated behind his desk. With his shirt tucked, he pulled at his mustache and tried to be serious. “She is the new, um, the new…”

“The new piece of ass?” Benny asked.

Chief Neighbors’ face lit up like Christmas. “Yes! And she’s a devil in sheep’s clothing. You wouldn’t believe the tricks that gal can do. My goodness!”

“You’ve got lipstick on your face, Chief,” Vernon said, pointing to the right side of his own face.

Chief Neighbors pulled open the desk drawer containing his mirror and wiped away the evidence of his fling.

“You boys are lucky,” he said closing the drawer.

“Why is that?” Vernon asked.

“Well, before the redheaded gal showed up I was absolutely furious with you two. Now I am only slightly perturbed.”

“Can I get her number for the next time we piss you off?” Benny joked.

“I put her on my speed dial,” the Chief answered, completely missing the attempt at humor.

“What were you mad about?” Vernon probed.

“I got a call a few hours ago from across the lake.”

“Oh,” Vernon said, clueing in. “Big E.”

“Yes. Big E called and yelled at me.” Chief Neighbors pouted. “He was
irate
.”

“Why do you care?” Benny asked. “He’s not one of your constituents, so to speak.”

“He seems to think he was being harassed in my county and I…,” Chief Neighbors searched for a lie.

“And he has a lot of money,” Vernon said.

“He’s loaded,” answered the Chief.

“And you don’t want to lose one of the biggest contributors to your re-election fund,” Benny guessed.

Chief Neighbors pulled at his mustache. “No.” He pulled some more.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Benny said.

“How do you know that? Those were secret donations.”

“Aren’t those illegal?”

“Not if they remain secret,” Chief Neighbors shot back. “We’re getting off the point here. I have my reasons for doing the things I do and this county is better for it.”

“I’ll never tell,” Benny said.

“Do tell how you knew,” Chief Neighbors pleaded.

“I’ve been around the block, Charles. I read signs and I make educated guesses.”

“So now you’re psychic?”

“Just intuitive. Would you like to tell us why Big E was so angry?”

“I was hoping you would tell me,” Chief Neighbors admitted.

“You tell him,” Benny said to Vernon.

“We caught him doing some illegal gambling.”

“In Donny’s pool?”

“You know about that, Chief?”

“I… I… just discovered it.” Chief Neighbors pulled at his mustache.

“You know we have his books,” Benny bluffed.

“Did he put my real name in those books?” Chief Neighbors yelled. He stood up and pounded his fist on the desk. “That dumb redneck!”

“Charles, Charles,” Benny calmed. “No. Stop talking. Should I call the redhead back? Everything is fine. We don’t know anything about anything,” Benny lied. “We’ll leave Big E alone. To us, he doesn’t exist. Happy?”

“Nothing said here gets out of this room,” Chief Neighbors stated.

“Nothing,” Vernon said.

“Nothing,” Benny echoed.

As Vernon and Benny walked out of his office, Chief Neighbors was punching the speed dial on his phone.

In the parking lot, Benny and Vernon decided to go to Rene’s for a drink. They heard she had reopened earlier and besides wanting a drink, they were both curious to see if it was business as usual at the café.

They walked in the restaurant to find a few customers scattered about the room. It was mid-day and usually a slow time. Benny picked his and Vernon’s favorite spot by the front window and sat down. After sitting, they spotted Angel emerging from the kitchen. As she eyed them her mouth widened into a devilish grin.

“Whatever she says is a lie,” Benny quickly said to Vernon.

Vernon shot him a confused look. “What?”

“Hello officers,” Angel said in a singsong voice.

Benny nodded and Vernon asked, “What’s with the evil smile?”

“Mr. James didn’t tell you?”

“Mr. James doesn’t give away his secrets easily.” 

Angel looked at Benny playfully and raised her eyebrows.

“OK,” Benny said. “I’ll spill. When I met Angel’s mother I fainted for the first time in my life. It was hot and bright and my senses were overwhelmed by some sort of rancid chemicals she had in a jar.”

Vernon bent over in a fit of laughter. “The great FBI man faints. I’ll be damned.”

“It was much less of a faint than a loss of my senses for a few moments.”

“My mother said you were lying prostrate on the floor. I think she even said something about drool.”

“She did not!”

“I made that part up,” Angel admitted. “She did say you were awfully cute, though.”

“She did not.”

“Yeah, she really did. You should call her.”

Benny was not used to blushing, but he did.

“What can I get you guys?” Angel asked, changing the subject.

“Two Buds.”

“Two beers coming up.” Angel walked away from the table.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” Benny warned.

“About what? The fainting or Angel’s mom having the hots for you?”

“Neither.”

“What’s she look like?”

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

“It might help you forget Rachael.” Benny gave him a look. “OK. Let’s change the subject.”

“Thanks.”

“I was able to rustle up a good picture of our first victim,” Vernon said. He pulled the photo out of his pocket and showed it to Benny.

“That looks like him all right, minus all the slashes I last saw him with. What do you know about him?”

“He’s not from around here. I’m still working on the rest.”

“Let me know when you uncover some more.”

“So, how are we going to put the screws to Big E without the Chief knowing about it?”

“We’ll have to be sneaky. We’ll have to lie to him about what we’re doing, and we’ll also have to make sure Big E doesn’t see us snooping around him or find out we’re checking him out.”

“Why do you think he had mud on the front of his boat?”

“Good question,” Benny said rubbing his chin.

Angel arrived with two Budweiser bottles, set them on the table, and scurried off without a word.

“I can’t picture Big E hopping out of a boat on one of the islands, can you?” Vernon asked.

“I can’t imagine his fat ass hopping at all.”

“Maybe it’s not his boat,” Vernon suggested.

“Let’s find out. When you took the photo, did you get the identification number on the side of the boat?”

“Yep.”

“Run it when you get back to the office and we’ll go from there.”

As both men were about to touch their bottles to their lips, Vernon’s cell phone rang and they both paused.

“Officer Kearns,” he said and listened. “Dammit. On my way,” he said standing.

Benny stood as well. “What?”

“More bloody art.”

“Where?”

“The Police Department.”

Chapter 9

Tilley’s Police Department was the size of a gas station—a small one. It had an office for Chief Neighbors, an oversized closet used as an interrogation room, another closet-sized room to store property, and one more small area with a long counter that separated a few desks and a waiting area.

On top of the counter sat a welded compilation of rusted auto parts. The sculpture looked like a candle holder, but instead of a candle there was a finger. A single, bloody finger.

“Chief!” Vernon yelled.

“I’m in here,” Chief Neighbors yelled from behind his office door.

Vernon walked into his office and as usual, whenever anything involving blood happened, Chief Neighbors was pale and nursing a Sprite.

“Don’t say it,” Chief Neighbors said looking at Benny.

“Why did you get into this line of work?” Benny asked.

“This kind of thing is not supposed to happen here,” the Chief tried.

“You should have been anything else,” Benny snapped.

“Just tell us what happened,” Vernon said.

“I was really upset after you guys left and I called an old friend to come down and comfort me. She calmed me down, and when she went to leave and walked out the door I heard her scream. I ran to the door and saw the candle thing and called you guys.”

“Where’s Officer Mandelino?” Vernon asked.

“He’s off doing some things you asked him, I believe.”

“And you didn’t hear anything?” Benny asked. “Isn’t there a bell on the front door you can hear if your office door is closed?”

“Yes,” Chief Neighbors answered.

“Did you hear it go off a few minutes ago?”

“Yes.”

“And?” Benny asked.

“I figured it was one of you guys. And I was busy being comforted.”

“Oh for Chrissake,” Benny said. “Did you hear anything out of the ordinary?”

Chief Neighbors just looked at Benny. Benny’s face turned red and his brain started to spin. He knew he should not say what he was thinking, but his anger trumped his common sense and he screamed, “How in the hell do you win re-election every four years? You are an incompetent boob and Vernon could do your job with both of his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back.”

“I don’t want your job, boss,” Vernon tried. Vernon looked at Benny and shook his head trying to tell him to cool it.

Benny caught the communication and took a few deep breaths. “I’m sorry, Chief. I know you can’t forget what I said, but I would like to take it back. This is just pissing me off. I came to Tilley to retire and get away from all of this madness, and it just seems to follow me around.”

“Why don’t we all just forget our personal differences and try to solve this case,” Vernon suggested.

“Great idea,” Benny said.

“I agree,” Chief Neighbors said.

“So,” Vernon started, “we have another sick piece of art we’re supposed to figure out. Who has any ideas?”

The men all stared at the rusted sculpture holding the finger.