Read Jason Deas - Benny James 02 - Pushed Online

Authors: Jason Deas

Tags: #Mystery: Thriller - P.I. - Florida

Jason Deas - Benny James 02 - Pushed (22 page)

BOOK: Jason Deas - Benny James 02 - Pushed
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“I didn’t make this. It was Josephine’s.”

“You never mentioned it before.”

“I didn’t know it was important. Is it?”

“Yes, it is. All of the girls who’ve been murdered had at least one of these.”

“Oh my God. I had no idea.”

“It’s OK,” Rachael said, believing him. “How did you get it from her?”

“I am ashamed of my answer.”

“What do you mean?”

“I stole it from her. She said a customer or admirer had given it to her and she asked me to put it behind the bar until her shift was over. I told her I did just that and somebody either took it or had mistaken it for trash and threw it away. My jealousy got the best of me.”

“Why did you keep it?”

“I don’t know. Something about it is very intriguing. You know by my collections at this restaurant that I love art. Whoever made this is full of angst. They are a tortured soul. I can’t tell you how I know, but I know art and that is what the art tells me. I just listen.”

“Can I see it?”

Azim’s eyes widened. He thought about his answer for a moment, and finally said, “OK.” Azim handed the braided snake across the table to Rachael.

Rachael took it into her hands. “Wow, this is intricate. Somebody spent a lot of time working on this.” Rachael studied the snake from all angles, turning it over, and rubbing her finger along its different parts. “I can see what you mean about getting a feeling about the artist. Some of the ways in which the wires have been bent look like they were bent in anger.”

“And frustration,” Azim added.

“I’ve never really felt as strongly about a piece of art as I do with this one.”

“It was made with true energy.”

“Could I possibly borrow this for a few days?”

“Sure.”

“Thank you,” Rachael said. “What else does it tell you about the artist?”

“He hates himself.”

 

 

The drive to Jacksonville took Benny and Red almost five hours. They arrived a little after three in the afternoon. Once in town, Benny pulled over to find Kendra’s address, which Ted had given him, and he mapped a route to her house. Benny wanted to drive from her house to the Dames Point Bridge to get a feel for what Brother Jim would have had to travel.

“Who we meet with?” Red asked.

“No one, buddy. I just wanted to see the girl’s house who was killed and drive over the bridge a few times where she died.”

“Long drive for looking two things.”

“I know it probably doesn’t make much sense, but it’s how I have to work. Since I’m not a part of the police force or with the FBI anymore, they won’t let me inside the house or give me access to the crime scene. The best I can do is get a feeling for what the killer felt. Sometimes, it’s all I need.”

“That making sense to me, Bendy. It how I find you. When Mama and Papa gone, I get on bus because of feeling. I know.”

“I’m glad you understand, buddy. Thanks for riding with me. I know it was a long ride to get a feeling.”

“I do it for you every time.”

Benny found Kendra’s street. As soon as he did, he knew he was not the only person who had found the address. Media vans crowded the already narrow street. Red counted a dozen or so police cars and what he called “the sneaky police,” which were the unmarked cars. Benny decided to park the car and walk up to the house until he was asked to leave. He didn’t plan on causing any trouble, and thought he would see how far he could push his luck. Benny asked Red to stay in the car. He gave him his cell phone, dialed Ned, and told Red to check on his plants and Galaxie.

Police tape created a perimeter around the yard. The media was positioned just outside the yellow tape. Benny crossed it like he was supposed to be there. He did not give anyone eye contact and made his way to the front door. The door had been propped open with a dumbbell and Benny walked inside without hesitation.

Just inside the door stood what Benny imagined to be a rookie FBI agent. Benny nodded his way and said, “Afternoon.”

The rookie didn’t know what to say and was saved by Jessica. “Mr. James, I could arrest you for entering a crime scene without proper authorization.”

Benny leaned in and whispered, “You would like to put me in cuffs, now wouldn’t you?”

“Can I speak to you outside?” Jessica said, with her game face on.

“It would be my pleasure.”

Jessica walked around to the back of the house and Benny followed her.

“You don’t work for the FBI or the police department, the last time I checked.”

“I don’t. You’re right. I have no business here.”

“That’s it. You’re going to leave that easily?”

“I saw what I needed to see.”

“You didn’t see anything.”

“Please,” Benny said. “Brother Jim drove his car, or what is probably a van to the backyard. The grass is bent down just slightly in a perfect arc around the house.” Jessica looked to see what Benny was talking about and back to Benny. “And he went in that window,” Benny said, pointing to the window where Brother Jim had crawled inside. “I can see a fingerprint from here. He was nervous and sweaty.” Jessica’s eyes took a quick glance at the window. “What do they teach you kids these days at Quantico?” Benny walked away, back toward his car.

“There are fingerprints all over the house!” she yelled after him, not wanting Benny to think he had gotten the best of her.

He waved his hand in the air.

In the short time it took Benny to peek inside and to have his brief conversation with Jessica in the backyard, one of the media personalities had recognized him and the wave of information had passed among all the waiting correspondents.

“Mr. James, Mr. James, Mr. James,” the cries came from the waiting throng. “What did you see inside?” one voice called. “Why did agent Flynn take you in the back?” a second voice called. “I’ve heard that the Reverend Jim has paid you to track down his own son, is this true?” another questioned.

Benny stopped. He had learned from his experience, that the best way to deal with a frantic media, was to stop, look them dead in the eyes and cameras, and answer their questions. If you ran, it made it worse.

“I will make a statement if you will all stop shouting questions and listen,” Benny said. The camera people and reporters stopped. “It is true that I have been hired by the Reverend Jim to find his son. As a part of my contract with him, I agreed to not discuss the case with the media.” The crowd grumbled. Benny put up his hand. “But, I can tell you that Rachael Martin is going to have a secret guest on her show tonight.”

“Is it Reverend Jim?” someone shouted from the back.

“Yes.” Benny then walked calmly past the group and entered his car without incident and drove away.

Benny and Red drove across the Dames Point Bridge, four times, back and forth. Benny even stopped one time in the middle to get an idea of what the other motorists might have seen. His awareness of Brother Jim’s intelligence was raised a few levels in his mind as Benny understood the act would have been difficult to accomplish without being caught.

By the time Benny and Red stopped for a leisurely dinner, it was seven o’clock before they started the nearly five hour drive to West Palm Beach.

 

 

Rachael met Reverend Jim just before the live show began. He had been visiting members of his congregation for dinner and had insisted he did not want to script any of his interview. He stated arriving just on time would have to work for the network. Rachael agreed that scripted interviews or having the chance to give guests insight as to what you might ask sometimes put a damper on the interviewing process.

During her years atop the nine o’clock time slot in cable television, Rachael had interviewed hundreds of wealthy, powerful, and influential people. At this point in her career she was never intimidated or ill at ease with any guest, no matter who they were.

Reverend Jim arrived with an aura. His make-up had already been applied. His eyes pierced Rachael’s as he shook her hand. He seemed to be incredibly aware of the presence he created. He seemed to enjoy the waves of energy he emitted. Rachael had never interviewed a prince or a king, but she imagined they would carry themselves in much the same way.

“My dear,” Reverend Jim said, clasping Rachael’s hand. “Thank you for having me.”

“It’s my pleasure, sir. The show is about to go live. I don’t mean to be rude, but please have a seat while I start the show.” Rachael pointed to a seat and Reverend Jim sat down. 

Lights appeared, filling a small stage that had been erected earlier in the day, and Rachael walked to the center. The Royal Park Bridge was illuminated in the background. Rachael stood in silence for a moment, peering into the camera before she began her thoughts.

“Florida has been struck with terrible tragedies. Beautiful young women have been ripped from their lives.” She paused. “Tonight, I have the daunting task of speaking to the father of the man authorities think is responsible for these terrible acts. We all know the stories. We all know the heartache. We all know the fear Floridians are living in.” Rachael paused again. “Just imagine what it must be like to be the parent of someone accused of such horrific crimes. I am so thankful to have the Reverend Jim joining me tonight on the show.”

The camera panned over the chairs to Rachael’s left. Reverend Jim sat in one of the chairs with his eyes closed and his head bowed. Rachael sat next to him without speaking. Reverend Jim heard her sit and mouthed “Amen” as he opened his eyes and lifted his head.

“Thank you so much for coming.”

“Thank you for having me.”

“I must confess…” Rachael stopped as she realized what word she had just used.

“Although I’m not Catholic, you have come to the right place,” Reverend Jim joked.

“Can I start over?” Rachael asked, blushing.

“Relax, and please do,” Reverend Jim said, lightly touching the top of her hand.

“As I was trying to say, I’m having a hard time trying to decide where to begin.”

“Let me make this easy for you. My boy Jim lost his way. As soon as he was born, his mother died. I believe the devil took her to destroy our family and my ministry. Satan took my wife and eventually took my son. He was the perfect son until I let him go to public school one year.” Reverend Jim clenched his fists as if he wanted to hit something and lowered them, sitting on his hands. “A year into public school he started yearning for women.”

Rachael broke in. “A year later he would have been in tenth grade. Most boys at that age are very hormonal.”

“Not my son. My family is not here on earth to soak up all the pleasures of the flesh. He was aching for more and I gave it to him. I gave him a position in my church only held for the senior members—Brother.”

“Brother,” Rachael repeated. “What exactly does that mean?”

“Brother is the path to Reverend. It means you have intentions of following the righteous path. It means you have been anointed by a superior member of the congregation. It is a big, big deal within my church.”

“And what happened after that?”

“He was tested by the devil and he failed.”

“How so?” Rachael asked.

“I found cigarettes in his room. I found beer cans he didn’t even try to hide. I found the stacks of girlie magazines. It nearly killed me.”

“Did it worry you that it would make your church look bad?”

“Yes.”

“How much is your church worth?”

“That has nothing to do with this.”

“OK,” Rachael said. “But on a side note, how much is it worth?”

“Rough estimate?”

“Shoot.”

“Twenty-five million.”

“That’s a lot of money,” Rachael said, without showing her shock.

“The money has nothing to do with my son.”

“You have a lot to lose if people are turned away from your church because of your son.”

“That’s true. But, I am not hiding anything. My congregation can see and experience my pain. It can be a lesson to us all that the devil can attack anyone, even someone like me.”

“You’re very brave,” Rachael said.

The rest of the show went by without much more confrontation. Reverend Jim talked about Brother Jim’s childhood and how the past few weeks had been hell for him and his church. He told Rachael that his congregation had rallied around him and kept him sane. He just wanted his son back.

After the show ended, Rachael thanked and thanked Reverend Jim for his participation. She knew the show had been draining on his emotions and it showed on his face.

“I’m sorry for all the tough questions,” Rachael said after the cameras and lights had turned off. “You did great.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely. Do you have to leave right away?”

“I have a few minutes,” Reverend Jim said.

“I have something in my hotel room I would like to show you.”

“I think I can spare a few extra minutes.”

Rachael drove her and Reverend Jim over to her hotel and parked the car. They walked into the lobby and took the elevator up as they made light conversation. Outside Rachael’s and Benny’s room, Rachael stuck her keycard into the door and walked into the room. She had unintentionally set the braided snake borrowed from Azim on top of the television. The door shut automatically behind her and she turned just as Reverend Jim spotted the braided snake. His eyes turned from a person Rachael knew, into a person she did not.

 

Chapter 31

 

Benny and Red were about two hours into their trip home when Benny’s cell phone rang. It was Ned.

“I think I have really bad news, Benny,” Ned said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well. I just watched Rachael’s interview with Reverend Jim. After it was over, my contact informed me of the results from the magazine fingerprints you gave me.”

“And?”

“It’s not good, Benny.”

“What do you mean, it’s not good?”

“The only fingerprints on the magazine besides yours are Reverend Jim’s,” Ned said.

“What are you saying?” Benny asked, not yet getting the implications of Ned’s statement.

“Brother Jim never touched that magazine. Reverend Jim is the only one who did.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

BOOK: Jason Deas - Benny James 02 - Pushed
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