CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

Before heading to the Majestic, Jack stopped at a store three blocks from the club. This store had been Leah's favorite place to bring Zoë, as many of the toys had been handmade and the clothes made with natural cottons and dyes. He tried pushing down the lump in his throat as he stepped across the all-too-familiar threshold and into the well-lighted store. Timber box-shelving and cabinets lined the walls and throughout the store, all displaying hundreds of toys, games, and clothes. An image of Zoë tottering back and forth across the store, giggling in her rush to see everything forced the lump in his throat to swell.

Taking a deep breath, he approached a woman behind the counter who helped him select some onesies in gender-neutral colors—Ray had told him he and Maria wanted to be surprised by the baby's sex—and several brightly colored playthings.

When he was done there, he stowed the sacks in the back of the Jeep, confident they wouldn’t be visible through the heavily tinted glass, and ran into Walgreens across the road for some boys’ and girls’ toys for the annual department-sponsored toy drive. Every year, Santa's grotto was set up for the city's poor and under-privileged kids, each child having the opportunity to meet Santa and receive a gift. No one left emptyhanded.

By the time he reached the Majestic, the sky had darkened though it was barely six. Jack pulled into the parking lot and parked near the corner of the lot. He wanted to see where the path led through the trees. He grabbed his flashlight from the center console and exited the Jeep.

The driveway was kitty-corner from where he stood under the tree in the far corner of the lot. Devoid of any vehicles, the lot appeared larger. From his position, he was able to scan the entire area, including the line of vision from where Rod had been serviced behind a car, to the cameras over the club's back door and this side of the driveway. Nothing of any significance stood out.

He switched on the flashlight and shone it along the length of the chain link fence that had been interwoven with thin timber slats used for added privacy for the neighbors behind the club. Jasmine vines covered most of the fence which was overhung by half a dozen tall Pepper trees. A California lilac had grown so large, it now blended into the rest of the trees and nearly obscured the corner parking space, disguising the break in the chain link.

Jack directed the light around the gap, then carefully maneuvered himself through it and into a narrow space between the back of the theater and the backyards of those living on Hartford Street. He followed the path behind the theater, through a broken gate, and between a pair of buildings, out onto 17th Street near the corner at Hartford. It seemed a lot of work just to not have to walk around the block, but for anyone who knew this gap existed, it made an easy getaway. One could, theoretically, hide in the shadows back here for hours if the police were looking for them.

Judging by the condoms and needles, it was also a popular place for sex and drugs. Rather than retrace his steps through it, he walked around the corner and back to the parking lot. Now he knew about the alley and where it led, it made things more interesting.

Before leaving, he checked out the security cameras, then tested the back door to ensure it was locked.

It wasn't.

Jack's heart kicked up a beat. His vehicle was the only one in the lot. Had Chad or Isaac forgotten to lock up, or had someone broken in?

His only firearm, the Beretta, was stowed in its lockbox back in his apartment, and he rarely used it except to renew his investigator's license and requalify to actually own the weapon. The last time it saw the light of day was when he confronted Travers.

Jack rushed to the Jeep, opened the back, pushed aside the gifts he'd bought, and extricated the tire iron. Killing someone was always a last resort, but that didn't mean he couldn't beat the shit out of an intruder. Breaking and entering didn't require a loss of life, just the use of his legs for a while.

He quietly opened the back door and entered the club, tire iron in both hands and just above his shoulder. Minimal lighting was on in the main room though the holiday lights were off, but he was able to see where he was going.

He checked the front door first—locked—then headed toward the backstage door and slowly turned the handle. The hall light was on. Was this normal?

He listened. Nothing. He checked the dressing rooms and Isaac's security room. All clear. He’d turned to check on the other rooms when he heard a noise and followed the sound to Chad's office door. He slowly turned the knob and eased himself into the room.

Chad stood with his back to the door while he rifled through his file cabinet. After extracting a folder, he turned back to the desk. Jack could only describe the screech the man let out as something he'd only heard in cheesy B movies. The contents of the folder went flying when the man clutched at his collar with one hand and put his other hand over his mouth to stifle a second scream.

He dramatically threw himself into his desk chair, then put his head onto the desk and covered it with his arms, gasping hard.

Jack lowered the tire iron, walked to the desk and waited for Chad to look up. When he did, there were tears in his eyes, and fury in his voice. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Me?" Jack huffed.

"Yes, you. Jesus Christ, Jack. I thought you were a burglar and going to kill me. You scared the ever-living shit out of me."

"Your being here when the club is closed didn't exactly calm my heart, Chad. What are you doing here?"

"I own the place. What are you doing here? I thought you knew the club was closed early in the week. You're not expected to do your security thing when we're closed." After taking several deep breaths, Chad's body noticeably relaxed.

"I watched some of your videos. Thanks for sending them over. I saw a couple pedestrians using the parking lot as a shortcut, so I came over to check it out. You need to get that fence repaired and get a gate on the driveway."

Chad released an exasperated sigh. "You have no idea how much money I've spent fixing that damn fence. Do people really travel with bolt cutters on them? No sooner have I got the fence repaired, someone is back the next day to open it up again."

"Have you been back there?"

"Not recently, why?"

Jack sat in the chair in front of the desk and put the tire iron on the floor beside him. "You need to call the city and have HAZMAT get someone back there to clean up the condoms and needles."

Anger crossed Chad's face. "I've called. They tell me it's not city property. The theater says it's not their property, the residents behind us say it's not their property, and I know damn well it's not mine. Someone has to be responsible, but no one has stepped up. Everyone I talk to says it's the club's responsibility since they're coming through our fence, and that it's most likely my patrons using the space to hook up. Forget the fact that the city has a huge junkie problem, and of course the hookers. That's not on us. They don't all come from my place. That alley has two ends, you know." Jack nodded, having just walked the length of it. "The best I can do is keep fixing the fence and hope people eventually forget about it. And even if they do, people will still keep going back there from the 17th Street side."

Jack nodded that he understood. "I'll have a talk with my old LT and see if he has any suggestions. It's more than a health hazard."

"Don't I know it. So, what brings you here? I mean into the club."

Jack huffed. "I wouldn't be good at my job if I didn't make sure your doors were secure while I was here checking out that hole in your fence. I wasn't expecting to find the back door open. Mine is the only vehicle in the lot, so—"

"Sorry about that. I had lunch with some friends down the road and walked up. I meant to only be here for a few minutes, but—" Chad looked at the time on his phone. "Shit! I didn't realize it was so late." He threw himself onto his knees and quickly gathered up the folder and papers, then stood and tossed them onto his desk. Grabbing his keys and coat, he said, "Sorry, I need to run. I've got a date."

Jack picked up the tire iron and rose. "I'll give you a ride to your car," Jack said as they walked through the club. Jack stopped at the back door and adjusted the light beside the camera.

"What are you doing?" Chad asked.

"I noticed on the security video that the light is too close to the camera. The glare obscures anyone coming through this door. The night Pepper Mint was shot, someone I think is a witness came through the door but his, or her, face was obscured by the glare. Hopefully, this will solve any future problems." Jack exited the building and held open the door for Chad who then made sure the door was locked before they left.

"Your witness came into the club?" Chad sounded surprised. "I wonder why they didn't use the hole in the fence too in case they were recognized as having seen the shooting."

In the Jeep, both men secured their seatbelts and Jack started the engine. "When I arrived on the scene that night, one of the first things I saw was someone running into your parking lot. I'm assuming it was the shooter and they used that alley as an escape route."

Chad gasped. "If they knew it was there, they must be familiar with the club." He made an audible shivering sound. "I'm freaking out, thinking the killer is one of my customers. Gawd! I hope they're not a contestant."

Jack doubted it but didn't say anything.

 

Jack dropped off the toys at the department's donation station but didn't plan on sticking around. It was late and he knew Ray would be home by now anyway, so no need going to find him.

As he walked between the lobby and drop off point for this weekend's event with Santa, he couldn't help noticing the new faces at Reception. The longer he was away, the fewer people he recognized.

Just as he turned toward the front door, he heard, "Jack, wait up."

"What are you still doing here?" he asked. Ray hadn't gone home yet.

"I just came from seeing Haniford. It didn't take much for him to agree to reopen those cases," Ray told him.

"Did you mention me?"

Nodding, Ray said, "Yeah, and he's cool with you being involved."

Jack lifted an eyebrow. Haniford was never happy with his involvement. It always came back to when Jack was returning to work. "Really? He actually said he's cool with it?"

"Well, not really. I told him what we suspected, and he agreed to reopen the files. Since he knew you and I talked, I'm assuming he expects you'll be involved."

"But did he agree to let me in on the case?" Jack knew he hadn't but wanted to see how Ray reacted.

"I wouldn't say he agreed, but he didn't specifically say not to involve you. You know how it is. You're an asset to the department and always will be. Just not officially. You know what you gotta do to be official, homes."

Jack chuckled. "Yeah, I do. Come on. I'll walk you out."