Blood Brothers: A Jarvis Mann Detective Novel Page 5

  Remembering Helen always left the back side door through the kitchen unlocked, I walked quietly in, crept across the tiled floor, and listened at the doorway. The conversation seemed one-sided. I heard the familiar voice of one of the two FBI agents who had dragged Flynn and I down to their bosses’ office. I stepped in, got their attention, and waved my index finger.

  “Now Helen, being your advisor,” I said, “I’ve often told you not to talk with feds without representation.”

  She looked a bit puzzled and then seemed to understand what I was doing.

  “Yes, I know,” she replied. “They came unannounced and didn’t give me much choice.”

  “Well Thing 1 and Thing 2 here and I have talked before. Apparently, they didn’t get it through their heads earlier today.”

  Agent number two stood up, his face seething with anger. His partner grabbed his arm to hold him back.

  “Or are you the Men in Black?” I said. “Though neither of you are as handsome as Will Smith. And are a step down on the scale from Tommy Lee Jones. I’m going to ask both of you nicely to leave. Without a warrant, you must go, or I will call the police.”

  Agent two pulled from of his partner’s grip and walked towards me, his gawking glare meant to scare me to death. I didn’t flinch as he walked past and out the door, his shoulder brushing up against me with a slight shove.

  Agent one remained cool and smiled. “Remember what we told you, ma’am. You have thirty-six hours to decide. Thank you for your time.”

  Out the door he went, winking at me on the way.

  “Oh my,” said Helen. “You’re my advisor.”

  I went over and sat on the couch. “I’m trying to remain under their radar. In time, they’ll figure out who I am, but for now…”

  “You met with them earlier. What for?”

  “Flynn.”

  “What the hell has he gotten himself into?”

  “I’m not certain yet. Tell me everything they said.”

  “Mostly they asked me to reconsider and take Flynn back. It is causing a distraction for something he is working on. They asked me nicely at first, but I said no.”

  “And their reaction to this was?”

  “Well, they got threatening then. Said they would take away my house, my car, and freeze all of our assets and throw us out on the street. Told me my daughter would be growing up in a back alley and selling herself for money to eat. It was unpleasant to hear.”

  “Nice to see our government protecting their citizens.”

  “Are they really FBI?”

  “Yes. We took a drive to their office and met their boss. He was a charmer too. Made similar threats to Flynn.”

  “So I ask again, what the hell has he gotten himself into?”

  “He wouldn’t tell me. He’s a little perturbed I told you about his girlfriend.”

  “You told him?”

  “He put two and two together once he saw me. Since we have history of this, it wasn’t much of leap to make. Of course, he knows I do this for a living.”

  “Jarvis, I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to lose my home. Can they really do this?”

  “Depending on the hole Flynn has gotten himself into, yes they could. At his office, Agent Wilson mentioned the IRS. And they pretty much can do whatever they want. Any idea if you have any outstanding tax debts?”

  “Of course not. Flynn handles all of this. But it wouldn’t be surprising after what I’ve seen is left in our bank account. Oh my, Jarvis, what should I do? I can’t have him back in the house after knowing what he’s been doing.”

  Helen was tough and strong, but this was bringing her to tears. I gave her a couple of minutes to pull it together, while I found some tissue to give her.

  “Here is what I propose. For now, can you tell him you two can discuss how to go forward, but you won’t let him back in the house. Suggest he come stay with me at the hotel while you work things out. Give him some hope of a solution so we can bide some time with the feds. Hopefully, he’ll open up to me and I can learn what is going on. If he won’t tell me, I can surely find out as I dig deeper. I’m good at sticking my nose into other people’s business. That is the hallmark of a good private detective.”

  “I doubt I’ll want him back and I can’t have him living in this house.”

  “I understand this. You’ll only agree to talk with him, for now. I can be there if you want. They gave him forty-eight hours to decide, or they foreclose and put liens on everything you own. And we can’t have that. So, we need him back in their good graces until we know what we’re up against.”

  “What if I got a lawyer working on this?”

  “Not enough time. They would have you out on the street before they could act fast enough. It might be a month or more before they could do much. And their fees would be enormous.”

  “Okay. I’ll do as you ask. Should I call him?”

  “Yes. Only tell him you’re willing to talk. If you want me there, then tell him this as well. I’ll contact him tomorrow and offer again to put him up in my hotel.”

  In the front door walked a young lady I hardly recognized. She was much taller now, nearly as tall as her mother, with darker, long hair, in blue jeans with holes and a tank top exposing her navel. When she walked in she saw me, uncertain who I was, and then noticed her mother’s messy tear-stained face.

  “Mother, what is wrong?” said Jolene. “Is it more dad drama?”

  “Yes, honey,” Helen replied. “I was here talking with Jarvis, figuring out what to do.”

  Recognizing the name, she turned to me and walked over. I stood up smiling, knowing it had been seven years since I’d seen her. She was a little girl then but, now had grown into a young woman.

  “I’ll be damned, it is you,” she said.

  She stepped into me, giving me a big hug. I put my arms around and sighed. Would wonders never cease? She remembered me. At least someone in Iowa was happy to see me.

  Chapter 11

  We talked for a while, going back in time, reminiscing. It was nice to connect again. Helen seemed thrilled to have Jolene to converse with, beyond the “I’m a teenager and I don’t want anything to do with you” shtick. It likely wouldn’t last, but she was happy for the moment.

  Going into the other room, Helen called Flynn, and let him know she was prepared to talk. She had made it clear it wasn’t a reconciliation, but she was willing to listen. They would get together the next day for dinner. I was invited, but she didn’t tell him this. My plan now was to find him again, for it was a new day, and convince him he needed help. If necessary, I would pop him a few times to rattle his brain.

  I was back at his office and sitting inside, waiting. So far, in all the days I’d been here I’d seen not a single customer walk in. Not a good sign for someone running a business. Only those he didn’t want to see had come to say hello. He stepped out of his back office and saw me, with the look of someone about to get their teeth pulled at the dentist. He smelled of someone who had been bathing in the restroom sink with lots of cologne and deodorant to cover the fact he hadn’t showered in a couple of days, his dark hair slicked back from lack of cleaning. Living out of your office was the pits, and his face showed it.

  “You won’t give up, will you?” said Flynn.

  “No. Let’s go to lunch. I’m buying.”

  “I have too much work to do.”

  “Flynn, I’ve been on you since Monday and haven’t seen one client. If there is work to do, it must be filling in crossword puzzles. Now, let’s go to lunch, or do I have to drag you out of here?”

  “Okay, where to?”

  “Felix and Oscars. I feel like deep dish pizza.”

  Flynn cracked a weak smile but conceded. I drove us over to the last remaining Felix and Oscars in town, the original over by Merle Hay Mall. The place was fairly quiet. We were a little early for lunch, so we grabbed a booth and both ordered a draft beer and a large Sicilian sausage and pepperoni pizza. There were TVs to watch,
but I ignored them for now. I looked across, trying to gauge him. He was always a hard guy to read, his emotions normally pretty well hidden. He seemed a tad uncomfortable about me watching him.

  “What?” he said after about five minutes of silence and staring.

  “I’m waiting for you to tell me what the fuck is going on with you,” I said bluntly.

  “I doubt you would understand. You being the perfect son and all.”

  “That is bullshit and you know it!”

  “Mom and dad clearly thought so.”

  “Certainly not in my teen years. Dad had to bear down hard on me to straighten me out. If he hadn’t, I’d probably be in jail right now.”

  “He didn’t want you turning out like me.”

  “You weren’t a thug and a thief like I was becoming. You just couldn’t keep it in your pants. I don’t think dad had a real problem with that. He might have even been a little envious of you being such a ladies’ man.”

  “Possibly. But he still bankrolled your business and now you are a hotshot detective and media hero.”

  I laughed out loud.

  “Oh yeah, some hero,” I replied. “Let me tell you about my last year. I met two beautiful women, one who I still see today, only because of her ability to forgive me. The other hired me to find a stalker and then turned out to be manipulating the supposed stalkers to do what she wanted with her perverted sex games. Then proceeded to seduce me in hopes of getting me to kill those men. I ended up shooting her in the woman’s bathroom at Dave and Busters to stop her, only to have her shoot me in the ass several months later, in the midst of trying to seduce me again. A seduction which nearly worked because of the Mann brother weakness.”

  I swallowed down half my beer and continued.

  “Then I get hired by two clients, one whose son is caught in a sex tape, the other who wants her husband out of her life because he is cheating. This puts me in the middle of two homicides and two different businesses running illegal operations. This leads to a showdown where numerous people were shot dead, which I am credited with, even though I wasn’t the one to shoot them all. I’m a hero to some here, yet I never felt like one. But I ran with it and have parlayed it to raise my rates and gain new business, making me profitable for the first time in my life. So, as you can see, I’m hardly the perfect son. I’m a fuck-up too. I just happen to be a lucky fuck-up, other than getting shot in the ass.”

  Flynn looked up over the beer he was nursing.

  “Wow,” said Flynn. “Sounds like a wild year.”

  “It has been. And through it all, I still have Melissa, though I’m barely holding on to her. It’s slipping away and I should go back home and work on it. But I’m here with you for some silly reason, even though you don’t want me around.”

  “You’re right, I don’t,” he said. “You are the last person I want help from. But you could be the only one who will help. I can’t bring myself ask you to do it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Pride I suppose. I’m afraid it will prove what a fuck-up I am. I feel like I have to be able to get myself out of these jams without help. I shouldn’t need my little brother to save me.”

  “Well, let’s recap what I know. You are having an affair with a woman named Casey Gaines, who your wife of fifteen years now knows about and has thrown you out of your house. You are living out of your office, sleeping on a sofa and in dire need of a shower. You appear to be working for the FBI on some operation, which you are trying to get out of, but if you do they’ll throw the IRS at you and take everything you own away. From what I can tell, you are broke with no clients. Your only hope is to have avoided this mess in the first place. But it’s too late now and brother, if anyone needs saving, I’d say you qualify.”

  After my sermon I was expecting an “Amen” from the audience, but didn’t get one. Flynn appeared lost and I wasn’t sure I could save him. The pizza came, along with two more beers. We dug in and he swallowed down the pie so quickly it appeared as if he hadn’t eaten in days. After two pieces he still hadn’t said anything else.

  “Damn, you are stubborn,” I said. “Got that from mom. Man, I do miss them both.”

  “I do too,” said Flynn. “Being a couple of idiots, I’m sure dad would knock our heads together, even now, if he was still with us.”

  “We’re all we’ve got, Flynn. We may not be friends, but we are blood and could still be brothers. Give me the scoop on what you’re into. I may not be able to save your marriage, but maybe I can save your life. You’re in danger, but too proud to admit it.”

  I looked up and saw tears in his eyes, as he started to cry. It was the first time I could recall since we were young kids. Not a tear had been shed, even at our parents’ funerals. I was right, he was in danger and didn’t know what to do. The question was, could he be saved?

  Chapter 12

  Flynn got it back together as we finished lunch. We went back to his office to get his bike. I was still working on convincing him to come back to the hotel and stay with me until we could work the situation through. He didn’t speak much and when we arrived, there were two men standing outside his office. They both had blonde hair, mustaches, and were wearing baggy gym shorts, tank tops and Chicago Cubs ball caps. They appeared to be twins and there was an air of familiarity about them.

  Flynn had not noticed them until getting out of the car. He paused when he saw them and took a couple steps back, a nervous look on his face. I walked around the back side of the rental and moved in front of him, sensing danger.

  “Where is our money?” said the first of the two twins. His tank top was navy blue.

  Flynn froze, unable to speak.

  “We are tired of waiting,” said the second one, his top a bright yellow.

  “Damn, if it weren’t for the shirts I would think I was looking in a mirror,” I said.

  “Who the hell are you?” said blue shirt.

  I could play the lawyer-advisor angle again, but I had tired of the disguise.

  “Do you date the same woman?” I said with a snicker. “Cause I doubt they could tell you apart, unless one of your dicks is smaller.”

  The two looked at each other and then stared back my way with a sneer of delight.

  “Now we remember,” said yellow top. “You are Flynn’s wiseass brother.”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “I bet you don’t remember who we are,” said blue top.

  “Sorry to say boys, I do remember. The James Brothers; but not the famous ones from the westerns.”

  It was my freshman year in high school and only my second week. I was wandering the halls between classes, stopping at my locker to switch out books. I was feeling pretty good about my new school, my learning temple for the next four years. There was a crush of bodies, but as I turned two older students, likely seniors were behind me. They were dressed the same; jeans, t-shirt, each with a different heavy metal band logo, and crew cut blonde hair. The first came up to me and patted me on the shoulder and grabbed my hand, shaking it.

  “We are here to welcome you to high school,” he said. “We are so happy to have you here with us.”

  I was surprised at the welcome.

  “Gee, thanks,” I said. “That is really nice of you.”

  “Welcome from me too,” said the second.

  While I was distracted by the first brother, the second, as he spoke, stepped in, slugging me in the stomach so hard I buckled over and down to my knees. I was still a heavy kid, so I had plenty of gut to hit. I gasped for air, the wind completely knocked out of me. They high fived each other and walked away laughing. No one around me said a thing or even helped me up. I was alone to gather myself together, scared now of what had happened and if it would happen again. My brother was a senior too, but I doubted he would help me any. I stood up and closed my locker, slowly getting to class, arriving a few minutes late, the teacher pointing this out to all as I walked into the room. It was one of those moments in time I’d never forget. />
  The James Brothers were a famous western outlaw duo. Frank and Jesse were legendary criminals who robbed and pillaged, becoming larger than life. The two before me had been nicknamed the same around school, I’d learned later, though their story would never become the stuff of Wikipedia entries. Bruce and Crispin James were good at picking on people, whether it be boys or girls, always working as a team. Rarely would they poke and prod someone they couldn’t best if they chose to stand up to them. And if they did, they would cheat, with one brother sucker punching from behind while the other was engaged. Since they were identical twins, I had no idea which of the two had punched me that day. I did my best to keep my distance later on, but it was difficult because they, in time, would become friends with Flynn, in a manner of speaking. They liked being around him because he attracted females and most of the girls at school couldn’t stand the James boys. It was their chance to get his hand-me-downs. But as I got older, when I encountered them, I often wished to get even, though I doubted they remembered what they had done that day, since they had likely done it to others as well. I was nobody, a heavy kid they could easily trick, with little chance I’d retaliate. Until today.

  “We are famous enough,” said yellow shirt. I still couldn’t tell them apart.

  “And tough enough to take you both out if we don’t get our money,” said blue shirt.

  Looking them up and down, their six foot frames appeared to be in reasonable shape, maybe a touch soft, but I doubted they could fight as well as I could. My profession had taught me skills they wouldn’t know about.