Justice Overdue: A Private Investigator Mystery Series (4 page)

The punk glanced over his shoulder, frowned slightly, and stepped up his pace. Jake walked a little faster. His prey took another look back and broke into a jog, and then a full-out run.

Jake chuckled. Nothing spells guilt like running away.

His quarry took a sudden dash into the street in front of an oncoming car. Tires squealed, a horn blared, and the driver yelled something unintelligible accompanied by a hand gesture. Jake lost a little ground as he waited until the vehicle skidded past, nipping at the runner’s heels, then roared away.

His quarry took a glance back as he pounded up the sidewalk. Jake crossed the road at an angle and regained his ground. Ten seconds later he had his prey by the collar of his leather jacket.

The hood squirmed and squealed, “Let go.” His peddling feet gained no traction as Jake raised him off the ground and held on.

Jake laughed. “‘Fraid I can’t do that. You’re under arrest.”

“What for?”

“Possession of a controlled substance.”

“Are you a cop?”

Jake twisted one of the punk’s arms behind his back and pushed him to the ground. He dropped a heavy foot on the hood’s chest. “Nope.”

“Then let me go. You have no right to hold me.”

Jake pulled out his cell phone without answering and touched speed dial. In a moment, he heard, “Hey, Jake, what’s up?”

“Hank, I’ve got an arrest here for you.”

“An arrest?”

“Yeah, a drug purchaser, probably a dealer. I’m holding him.”

Laughter came over the phone, then, “I’ll send a car and I’ll be right there. Where are you?”

“Orleans Avenue. You can’t miss it. We’re on the sidewalk. You better send a couple cars. I’ve got a seller and a buyer and video to back it up.”

“See you soon.”

Jake knew drugs weren’t Hank’s department. He’d been a close friend with the head of robbery/homicide for almost as long as he could remember, so the notch might as well go in Hank’s belt. Besides, Jake owed him one. Well, he owed him a lot. Hank had often told him that Lincoln Investigations and the police department were on the same side, and had never hesitated to be helpful to them in their investigations.

Captain Diego wasn’t always too happy with the Lincoln’s involvement in police matters, but Hank got the job done and Diego didn’t put up much of an argument. Hank’s success was his success, and made him look good in front of the mayor.

The punk on the ground looked at Jake and pleaded, “Listen, Buddy, if you let me go I have a whole wad of cash in my pocket. You can have all of it.”

“How much you got?”

“Couple of thou.”

“A couple of thou, huh. That’ll come in real handy I bet—when the police confiscate it.”

“Come on, man. This is the first time I did anything like this. I swear.”

Jake looked at the pathetic hood on the ground. “We’ll let the law decide that.” He glanced down Orleans Avenue as a pair of cruisers turned onto the street. “And here comes the law now.”

Jake waved the cars down and they pulled to the curb. A moment later, Hank squeaked to a stop behind them.

One of the officers stepped up to the squirming prisoner. “This is the guy I assume?”

Jake nodded. “Yup.”

The officer took control of the prisoner, cuffed him, and read him his rights.

“Where’s the other one?” Hank asked, as he stepped onto the sidewalk.

Jake pointed down the street toward #338. “Down there.” He pulled the camera from his bag. “It’s all on here.” He cued up the video and handed it to Hank, who watched with interest as Jake explained the story behind it.

When it finished playing, Hank reached into the punk’s jacket pocket, removed the pill bottles, and squinted at the labels.

“It’s oxycodone,” he announced. “Possession without a valid prescription is a crime.”

“And selling it without authorization is illegal,” Jake said. “I’m sure Hughes is not a pharmacist.”

“And not an invalid either.” Hank chuckled and turned to the second officer. “Let’s go get him.”

Chapter 7

Thursday, 1:24 PM

VARICK LUCAS had a plan formulating in the back of his mind. He knew the RCMP would be relentless in their pursuit of him and he wasn’t about to get himself caught. That just wasn’t an option.

Haddleburg had welcomed him with food, a fresh change of clothes, a nice pistol, and a bit of spare cash. How wonderful of them. Too bad about the dead guy though.

He’d left the town far behind hours ago. The cops would be looking high and low for him—Haddleburg being an obvious first stop for anyone on the run. All the cons knew that, and none of them would be dumb enough to hang around there if they were lucky enough to be in his shoes.

Lucas headed east, keeping to the back roads, ducking into the long grass that filled the ditches on either side, when traffic happened by. He had family down east. He was originally from Nova Scotia and he knew the cops knew that. That would be the obvious place for him to go and he was going to make sure they followed the obvious trail.

He’d made a good twenty miles since leaving Haddleburg, close to where he wanted to be. The 401, a major cross-provincial highway ran just a minute or two north of him, a truck stop for weary travelers his destination.

Five minutes later, he strode across the truck stop lot and into the building. He selected a private booth in the refreshment area and ordered a cup of coffee. The waitress brought it right away and he savored it, sipping it slowly. The best coffee he’d had for a good long time.

He laid his head back and closed his eyes a moment. He could use a little sleep but couldn’t afford to yet. Hopefully, the coffee would keep him awake until he could rest. Soon.

Lucas finished his drink, ordered another to go, and then stood and glanced around the restaurant. Travelers had stopped to refuel and grab a bite to eat while they had the chance. Lucas could be polite when he wanted to, charming even, and as he approached the booth of a young couple he sported a pleasant smile.

“Good afternoon, folks. I’m sorry to bother you, but …” He paused and tried to look embarrassed. “My old beater broke down and, well, I need to get home and I could use a lift if you’re heading east.” He held up his hands, palms out, as if in surrender. “But it’s ok if you can’t do it. I understand.”

The man looked up at him, his prematurely bald head exaggerating the frown on his high brow. “We can’t—”

Lucas expected a negative answer. He glanced at the woman, gave her his best smile, and interrupted. “I really want to see my kids. It’s been a very long time and I miss them every day.”

The woman placed her hand on her companion’s arm. “It’s ok, Ben. We can give him a lift.”

Ben’s frown turned into a look of resignation and he sighed lightly and shrugged. “Whatever you think, Sal.”

“I’m Sally Ann Draper,” the woman said, holding out a delicate hand.

Lucas shook her hand, gave a slight nod, and offered another smile. A cute little thing, perhaps twenty-five or so, she looked rather out of Ben’s league. Some guys have all the luck.

Sally Ann motioned across the table. “And this is my husband, Ben, and we’ll be happy to give you a ride. We’re going to Ottawa and we could take you east until the cutoff.”

“That would be a great start,” Lucas said. “I thank you both.”

“Where’s home?” Sally Ann asked.

“Nova Scotia. I’ve been on the road awhile, but I’m heading home to stay.”

Ben frowned and looked out the window. Sally Ann took a last sip of her beverage and pushed her plate away. She smiled again. “We’re just about ready to leave.”

“Let me get the bill,” Lucas said, as he pulled a twenty from his thin roll and tossed it on the table.

Lucas followed the Drapers outside to a brand new Toyota Corolla, a good family car, and one Lucas would enjoy. Later. He got into the back seat, adjusted the gun tucked behind his belt, and settled back for the long ride.

Ben pulled onto the highway and sped up, merging into traffic. Sally Ann turned halfway in the seat and peppered him with friendly questions Lucas had no answers for. About his kids, his home, his wife. He gave fictitious answers, trying not to contradict himself.

Finally, he laid his head back and closed his eyes, tired of the questions. Besides, he felt exhausted, running on adrenaline for the last thirty or so hours. “I wouldn’t mind a little nap if it’s ok,” he said.

“I’ll wake you when we get to the cutoff to Ottawa,” Sally Ann said with a smile. She turned back around.

Their murmured conversation and the soft sounds of the radio faded away as Lucas drifted into sleep.

A gentle shaking startled him awake and he forced his eyes open. Sally Ann leaned over the seat, her hand on his arm. “We’re there,” she said. Her pretty blue eyes reminded him of his mother, a long time ago. It seemed a shame to have to do to them what he was about to, but he had no choice.

The vehicle slowed abruptly and the tires ground onto the gravel shoulder. The car eased to a stop.

Lucas lifted the front of his shirt and slipped out the pistol. Sally Ann’s eyes popped open and her mouth dropped. He waved the weapon. “I’m afraid you’ll have to get out now.”

Ben’s narrowed eyes stared back at Lucas from the rear view mirror. He spun to face the would-be car thief.

“So, this is how you treat people who’re kind enough to help you?”

Lucas shrugged. “I’m afraid so. I’m very sorry.” He raised his voice and waved the pistol as a warning. “Now, get out.” He opened the passenger side door, stepped out and opened Sally Ann’s door. She gave him a disdainful look and stepped onto the shoulder, her high heels catching on the loose gravel. Lucas caught her arm until she regained her balance. She pulled away and stepped back.

Ben came around the front of the car. “Leave her alone,” he shouted, and raised his fist, then stopped short when Lucas brandished the gun.

“Stand back,” Lucas demanded.

“You’ll never get away with this,” Ben said through gritted teeth.

Lucas laughed. “They always say that.” He took a step forward and swung the weapon, the heavy butt end catching Ben on the side of his head.

Ben staggered back but retained his balance. He touched his fingers to his head where a trickle of blood flowed from a nasty cut. He looked at his stained fingers, then at his attacker, hatred burning in his eyes.

Lucas looked at Sally Ann. “I’m sorry I had to do that.” Then he bowed, went around the vehicle, and got inside. Without looking back, he pulled the shifter into gear and spun onto the highway, leaving the angry couple behind.

Chapter 8

Thursday, 2:33 PM

ANNIE STRAIGHTENED her back when she heard her car pull into the driveway. Jake had called her with the results of his stakeout and she felt relieved to have the task cleaned up and out of the way before the weekend. Their client would be pleased with the positive outcome, and catching a pair of criminals was a bonus.

She’d spent the last few hours packing up for the guys. All the things she knew they would need but would never think of themselves. Like raincoats, extra blankets, sunscreen, and clean underwear. She’d also put some sandwiches and fresh fruit into a cooler for their long trip north.

The front door opened, banged shut, and Jake came into the kitchen. “Another job well done,” he said. “Two more bad guys off the street.”

Annie leaned back against the counter. “You look pleased with yourself.”

Jake chuckled. “Why not? It’s more than I expected. Hank got the arrest and now Captain Diego owes me one.” He frowned at the boxes on the floor. “What’s all this?”

“Just stuff for your trip. We’d better start loading up. The boys’ll be home soon.”

Jake had borrowed an SUV from Annie’s father, Andy Roderick, who ran a small local trucking company. The 2009 Toyota RAV4 would be perfect for their weekend trip and her father didn’t need it back until Monday. One of his drivers had dropped it off a couple hours ago and it was backed up to the garage, ready to load.

Together they carried the boxes through the door leading from the kitchen to the garage. Jake pulled the third-row seats from the SUV and in twenty minutes the cargo area bulged with gear.

Jake turned to Annie. “Are you sure you don’t want to come? It’s not too late.”

Annie shook her head. “I’ll be ok here. I just want to relax and catch up on a little reading.”

“Suit yourself.”

“By the way,” Annie said. “I heard on the news this morning someone escaped from Haddleburg Penitentiary yesterday.”

Jake raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Lucas something or other. Apparently, it’s the first escape they’ve had from there in a long time. None successful so far. The RCMP is all over it but no luck so far.”

“They’ll get him,” Jake said. “The Mounties always get their man.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that. I’m not sure how true it is, but it sounds good.”

Jake pulled out his iPhone. “I want to call Hank and see what happened with our two drug dealers.” He hit speed-dial, and in a moment, Hank answered.

“Detective Hank Corning.”

“Hank, what’s the verdict with our druggies?”

Hank’s chuckle came over the line. “It didn’t take long for both of them to cough up the truth. Hughes was selling his prescriptions to the dealer ever since his pretend injury.”

“Those go for twenty or thirty bucks each on the street, don’t they?”

“Yup, and a lot more than that in some places. A lot of kids are abusing them. And adults too. Diego didn’t say much when I told him you were responsible for the arrest. You know how he is. I think he’s a secret fan of yours but doesn’t want to admit it.”

Jake laughed, then, “He’ll have to do without me awhile. We’re about to head north as soon as the boys get home.”

“I’ll talk to you when you get back,” Hank said. “Maybe I’ll go with you next time but I’ll have a busy weekend and Amelia hasn’t seen a whole lot of me lately. She’s made some plans and I can’t afford to stand her up. You know how it is.”