Lethal Liaisons - A Jack West Novel (Jack West Mystery Book 2)
Lethal Liaisons
A Jack West Novel
Deanna King
© Copyright Deanna King 2020
Black Rose Writing | Texas
© 2020 by Deanna King
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.
The final approval for this literary material is granted by the author.
First digital version
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Print ISBN: 978-1-68433-631-9
PUBLISHED BY BLACK ROSE WRITING
www.blackrosewriting.com
Print edition produced in the United States of America
Thank you so much for reading one of Deanna King’s novels.
If you enjoyed the experience, please check out our recommended title for your next great read!
Twist of Fate by Deanna King
“…reads like a good Netflix crime series.”–Samantha Calimbahin, Panther City Media Group
To all the survivors in the world.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to my Beta readers, Thomas Faught and Sharon Jaeger- your candid opinions have been a blessing. To my editor, Lisa Petrocelli, all I can say is thank you again for keeping all of my commas in place, and straightening out my dyslexic typing. To my publisher, Reagan Rothe, thank you, for another opportunity to get my work to the readers. To my husband, Travis, thank you for all your continued encouragement.
Lastly, thank you to my everyday side kick, Sugar Baby, my fuzzy little Yorkie. She is my daily companion and she puts up with all my craziness and never judges me.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Recommended Reading
Dedication
Acknowledgments
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
BRW INFO
PROLOGUE
The scream was ear-shattering echoing throughout the empty house. The woman’s face turned green and her stomach lurched. She was going to vomit. The man did not make a sound. He grabbed his wife and pulled her back from the doorway. Brenda walked behind them chatting up the home’s amenities, and the shriek jarred her to the core. Her mouth opened but she felt paralyzed. Seeing a dead body was not on the home’s listing flyer.
Fifteen minutes earlier
“It’s over our budget, why are we looking?”
“Honey, it’s been on the market for over sixty days, they might lower the price.”
The couple parked in front of the house for sale. Mathers’ Realty offered the property. A metal sign planted in the owner’s yard, Al Mathers, middle-aged black man, in the top right corner and underneath the agent’s name, Brenda Cochran, and her phone number.
A compact silver sedan pulled up.
“We aren’t obligated to buy, we’re just looking.” Her husband opened his door.
“You’d better hope I don’t love it. I’m tired of disappointment.”
“Hey,” the real estate agent called out, “good to see you. Ya’ll ready, I just need to get the key out of the lockbox and we’ll be on our way.”
“Goodness, it’s cold in here. What do they have the thermostat set on, minus ten?” The female client shivered.
“That’s odd, I showed this house day before yesterday, and it hasn’t been shown since. I remember setting the thermostat at eighty. No sense in wasting electricity on an empty house.” Brenda Cochran stepped to the left hallway, into the front sitting room, and looked at the thermostat.
“Someone has this set at fifty-eight degrees, good gracious!” The agent moved the temperature up and turned to her clients. “I think you’re going to love the back of the house. There’s an oversized family room with a rock fireplace, and it’s set off an enormous kitchen. Let’s head back shall we?” The agent followed the female client, letting her lead the way. Walking over the threshold, five steps in, her heart leaped into her throat and her scream loud and ear-piercing. Her husband yanked her by the arm, pulling her backward nearly ripping her arm out of the socket. Brenda, busy chatting up the house froze in place. Her hands flew to her mouth, not able to utter a sound.
In a state of shock, no one moved, no one breathed, all eyes upon the scene before them. Time ceased to move, and their feet were like cement shoes.
“We need to call the police.” Brenda Cochran backed out of the room.
“I need to get, get outside. I’m going to be sick.” The client’s face turned various shades of green. Her face resembled a chameleon walking on a pile of different green-colored leaves. She felt her stomach lurch.
They called 9-1-1 then stood outside on the front lawn waiting for the police. Brenda Cochran’s hands were shaking. She never smoked in front of her clients, but today she needed a cigarette.
“Sorry,” she said sticking the lighter to the end, firing up, and taking a long drag.
“No worries, if I had a fifth of whatever, I’d be chugging it right now.” He pulled his wife closer to his side.
“You don’t have to stay. I’m the realtor, I can give the police the information.” Her hands shook as she lifted the cig to her lips.
“We’re not going to leave. They may want to talk to us too. I’d like to get it over with now and not deal with it later.”
When the police officers walked in, they found a middle-aged black woman on the floor, blood pooled under her right side. Her body
face up, eyes closed, her arms bent at the elbows. Each of her hands placed low on her stomach, one on top of the other. Her legs were straight out, her ankles crossed. It gave her a peaceful, ‘sleeping’ look. The makeup not the shades a black woman would wear.
Officer Jeffers stepped back. He did not need an ambulance — he needed Homicide, the Crime Scene Investigators, and the medical examiner.
Detective’s Xi Chang and Jace Severson, Team 7-11, were next in line on the Homicide table.
CHAPTER ONE
Sweat rolled off his face as the salty Pacific Ocean air clung to his skin, and the sand he kicked up during his run. Stooped over, huffing, Jack West had not run hard in a long time. It felt good. It was a quick run. Running in the sand required more energy than road running. The resistance of the sand made his run more of a challenge, and he had challenged himself for the past five days. His calf muscles were sore as heck the first couple of days.
Jack stretched his legs and extended his arms upward toward the sky. He would make time to work out, stay healthy, and get in better shape back home. Turning, he looked at the ocean. No breaking waves, just, calm at this time of day. Vacationers coming alive as the day broke. He felt at peace. Jogging, he scanned the paradise he had been in since last Tuesday. Today was the last day of vacation. Maui, Hawaii is a beautiful Island, with waters as blue as the sky and one word came to mind. Paradise. Here you would find white sandy beaches and waterfalls for the explorer or the average Joe. Breaking waves for the surfer. Gigantic banyan trees in Maui were pieces of God’s artwork. Jack thought the banyan trees resembled giant octopuses on steroids and out of control. Some looked like alien forms from a far-off planet in the outer galaxy. Colorful flora he had no name for. He recognized the bird-of-paradise and the yellow hibiscus. Banana trees and coconut trees lined the island. Maui, Hawaii a gorgeous place, he mused, taking the stairs leading to his room two at a time.
Opening the door, he smiled at the other gorgeous thing Hawaii had—the one he had loaned to them for the brief time he would be there—Gretchen Benson.
Leisurely lying in bed, she turned when she heard the door and smiled. “Good morning, cowboy.”
Jack walked to the bed, leaned over, and kissed her. They had been together for two years and he never grew tired of kissing her whenever he had the chance.
“Did you enjoy your run this morning?” She reached to hug him.
“Gretch, I’m sweaty, sandy, and yucky, and I smell.”
“We can fix that.”
Gretchen climbed off the bed and grabbed his hand. Smiling she led him to the rock shower with the double bench seat and the rainfall showerhead. In less than ten minutes, Jack stood kissing her under a cascade of water. Her hands roamed his back and his muscled arms. In one swift motion, he lifted her, soaking wet, carried her to the bed, and laid her down, her giggling the entire time.
“Gretch, you’re a funny woman, laughing when I’m trying to swoop you up in a serious seduction.”
Jack lowered his head and took her lips. Gretchen knew what that kiss meant. He lowered his body next to hers, and she willingly complied.
Their relationship had passion and mutual respect. Neither had ever said, ‘I love you.’ He wanted her in his life now. He never looked past the here and now.
Once they were satisfied, they lay, a sheet covering them, and Gretchen rolled up on her side and looked at him.
Jack, you’re an amazing man.”
“No, I’m not. I’m just a man from Houston, Texas, visiting Maui, Hawaii with a gal too good for him.”
“Jack West, I mean it you’re an incredible man who still has good left in him. From some of the most horrendous acts of violence you’ve seen and the stories you’ve told me, and I can imagine the ones you have left out, you’re a gentle lover and a caring man.”
Jack became quiet. He had never thought of himself as gentle or caring until he met her. Their relationship blossomed over time. He trusted her and she trusted him. They had fun and the physical chemistry, off the charts, as in explosive. Yes, he had demons, the job as a homicide detective would never leave a man scarless. Somehow he was able to suppress the dark side of the heinous things he had seen. He never wanted the evil parts of his life to touch her, or interfere with what was going on between them.
“Jack?” She caressed his bare arm.
“You’ve been the amazing one, Gretch.” He turned his face toward hers. “You’ve taken a back seat to my job, gone days without seeing or hearing from me when I’ve been knee-deep working a case. You’ve tolerated my irritated moods or my disappointment when it wasn’t going well. And you’ve never told me you thought my job is too dangerous, or make a suggestion about me getting into a safer line of work.”
Gretchen tucked her head under his arm and rolled up next to him. “Jack, you have a very hard job, and my complaining won’t make it easier for you. You had this job before ‘us,’ I knew what you did for a living. I have no complaints, Cowboy.”
He relaxed, pulling her closer. “I’m glad. What makes me unhappy is…” trailing his words off, he began caressing her arm.
“Jack, what makes you unhappy?” Her words muffled as she turned her face to his bare chest, giving him butterfly kisses.
“Going back to Houston and leaving paradise and jumping back into reality.”
“Well,” Gretchen said, as she pulled her naked body up over his, letting the sheet slither off and her hair cascade over his bare chest.
“Let’s be the volcano Hawaii never knew existed on their islands and let’s explode.” With a sexy giggle, she pressed her lips to his.
Regular airport hubbub and the rush of frantic passengers wiped out the tranquility of the last seven days.
“Back to reality, huh?” Gretchen scowled.
“Yep, but I can live on the memories of the past week with a smile. Not to mention the million and one pictures you took.”
Gretchen rolled her eyes. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself, Maui is gorgeous. I love memories in pictures. It helps me recreate the experience.”
“I know, Gretch. Let’s get to baggage claim and get the hell out of George Bush’s Airport.”
Once all of her luggage set in the house, Jack held her in his arms at the front door.
“Gonna be weird tonight sleeping in my bed without you,” he whispered in her ear, nuzzling her neck.
“Yeah, but I’ll see you soon I hope.”
He left her standing there as he headed back to Deer Park, watching her wave goodbye in his review mirror until she faded out of sight.
The flight had been direct from the Kahului Airport in Maui to the George Bush International Airport in Houston, non-stop. There was a time difference of five hours with Texas five hours ahead. He felt like he had lost ten hours, not just five. It was nearly 7:00 p.m. Wednesday night, but he was still on Maui time and it felt like 1:00 in the afternoon.
Halfway unpacked, he showered, made a sandwich, grabbed a beer, and sat in his favorite recliner. At 9:15, he scanned through the local television channels searching for news. Gone for eight days, counting their return day, he figured some news would be noteworthy, because it was Houston after all.
Channel KHOU-11, showing the weather forecast. Crud he had missed the news. Clicking over to Fox 26 Houston he got the weather again, no news. Flipping from channel to channel, he found nothing worthwhile to watch. He turned off the television and turned on the radio.
It was 10:30. He hadn’t realized how tired he felt until his eyes closed for more than a minute. He would take a short catnap, then get up and finish unpacking.
The clock on the table illuminated in the darkness, and he adjusted his vision. Three-thirty
, wow, he’d slept for five hours in his recliner. Yawning, he stretched then headed to his room. Flopping on his bed, he missed Gretchen’s body next to his.
. . .
“Jack, glad to see you made it home in one piece. Wow, you got a great suntan, dude. You could blend in with the locals in Mexico.” Lucky grabbed Jack’s outstretched hand.
“It’s good to be home, but I needed a relaxing vacation.”
“My wife’s jealous. She wants to go to Hawaii now, thanks.”
“We had a magnificent time, and it felt like paradise.”
“How’s Gretchen?”
“She’s wonderful.” Jack’s face beamed.
His so-called chipper moods had driven Dawson Luck crazy. He had badgered him for a few months, and then Jack let him in on Gretchen.
“I knew it was a woman. I just had no clue who you rascal. You’re as lucky as I am. I mean look at me, and then you see my beautiful wife. I understand why the fellas call me Lucky, even though my last name is Luck.” He chuckled.
Dawson Luck transplanted from the Arizona Police Department, not a tall man at just five-foot nine, with enormous feet and an enormous nose. His eyebrows were bushy and thick, looked like a unibrow. Jack thought he should take up waxing. When he frowned a certain way, it resembled a black caterpillar wiggling along his forehead. His odd unibrow had not prevented him from getting a gorgeous wife. How he had had the incredible fortune to marry a goddess was beyond their comprehension. As one of the other detectives had said, “It’s gotta be because of his enormous nose, or his giant feet.”
“Coming back on a Thursday, smart move, Jack, especially knowing we weren’t gonna be first up for this weekend.”
“Yeah, I knew I’d be dealing with jet lag.”