R. Jagger - A Way With Murder

Waverly hesitated.

Good question.

“Yes,” she said.

“Okay, then think about this,” Jaden said. “The sky’s filling up with clouds. It’s going to rain tonight.”

Waverly looked up.

That was true.

“I don’t get where you’re going.”

“Here’s where I’m going,” Jaden said. “I’ll rent a car. I’ll drive Bristol to some remote place tonight after dark. When we get there, I’ll tell him that I’m onto him but I don’t care. I’ll tell him I want to stay with him no matter what he did in his past. I’ll tell him that I want him to share it with me though.”

Waverly shook her head.

“Even if he does, like I said, it’s not evidence.”

“Wait, let me finish,” Jaden said. “What Bristol won’t know is that you’ll be there listening.”

“How?”

“You and me will agree on the place beforehand,” Jaden said. “I don’t know Denver hardly at all so I’ll let you choose the place. You get there before we do and hide in the dark. After we get there, I’ll roll a window halfway down, ostensibly to get some fresh air. Then I’ll get Bristol talking. You creep up silently and listen in. Bring a gun. If Bristol confesses, you’ll have your proof. You can shoot him.”

Waverly receded in thought.

Then she looked at Jaden.

“Do you really think you can get him there, to a secluded place?”

Jaden nodded.

“He’ll go for two reasons,” she said. “One, he loves to make love in the car, especially in the rain. We’ve done it twenty times. Two, and more importantly, I’ll tell him I want to talk to him someplace private. He’ll go out of curiosity as to whether I know about his past or not. He’ll see it as a chance to probe me. He’ll also see it as a chance to kill me if he figures I know too much.”

Waverly frowned.

“It’s risky.”

“So is crossing the street,” Jaden said.

“They’re not exactly the same.”

She smiled, nervously.

“Maybe not but what other option is there?” Silence, then she said, “Do you have a gun?”

“No.”

“Then we need to buy one. We’re going to need some cleaning products too, in case you end up shooting him while he’s still in the car. I’m going to have to return it at some point. I think we should have a shovel, too. There’s less likely to be a problem down the road if there’s no body.”

“You’re serious about all this.”

“I am,” Jaden said. “All I ask is that you try not to let me die.”

“I’ll give it my best shot.”

They shook hands.

Day Four

July 24, 1952

Thursday Afternoon

Wilde went backto the warehouse and found no Alabama, not on the roof or anywhere else. He pulled River’s place in with the binoculars to find it equally lifeless. He was pretty sure what happened. If he was right, River would die a million deaths and not one of them would be pretty.

An hour came and went.

The sky got meaner.

The clouds turned into storm clouds, not spitting yet but building up a hellacious arsenal.

Wilde didn’t move.

The map was in his shirt pocket. He didn’t take it out, he didn’t look at it, he didn’t care about it.

Suddenly something happened.

A figure moved quickly towards the boxcars.

It wasn’t River.

It was a man with a scar on his face and a tattoo on his forearm. Wilde’s chest pounded. This had to be the man from last night. Wilde raced through the guts of the building down to ground level and headed directly across the tracks and weeds and gravel towards his target. He made no effort to conceal himself.

The man saw him.

Wilde expected him to take cover and pull a gun.

That’s not what happened.

The man stood there in the open and waited.

Wilde stopped two steps away.

“You’re a bad shot,” he said.

The man smiled.

“It happens.”

Wilde hardened his face.

“I want the woman.”

“Alexa?”

“Yes, Alexa. Where is she?”

“She’s dead,” the man said. “Don’t look surprised. It’s your fault. You broke the rules.”

“The map you got is a fake,” he said. “I have the original.”

“Bullshit.”

Wilde pulled it out of his pocket and tossed it on the ground.

“I want the woman.”

The man bent down, slowly, keeping his face pointed at Wilde. He picked up the map and opened it. Then he looked at Wilde. “If this is a trick, I’ll kill you and everyone you ever met.”

“It’s not a trick,” Wilde said.

The man shrugged.

“I lied when I said she was dead. She’s actually alive. You can have her. It’s only fair.”

Wilde expectedthe man to lead him off to the south to a car. Instead, he headed across the tracks to the north. Wilde fell into step.

“I’m Vaughn Spencer,” the man said.

“Why would you tell me your name?”

“You’re Bryson Wilde.”

“How do you know that?”

“I have my ways.”

“If the woman’s dead, I’m going to kill you,” Wilde said.

“You’re going to try,” Spencer said.

“There was no word try in what I just said.”

Spencer smiled.

“You got some balls Wilde, I’ll give you that.”

They walkedpast the warehouse Wilde had just come from and into a similar one a half block down. “Don’t tell me you have her in there,” Wilde said.

“Either that or I’m taking you in there to kill you,” Spencer said.

Wilde didn’t break stride.

The building was windowless.

In the back, a steel door was chained shut. Spencer pulled a key out of his pocket, got a padlock off and pushed through the opening.

“River killed your little assistant,” he said.

Wilde stopped.

“What’d you just say?”

“You heard me,” he said. “He spotted her up there on the roof and sent his little tattoo shit of a girlfriend up there. The woman killed her. They threw her in the trunk of a car, to dump her would be my guess. I saw the whole thing.”

Wilde pictured it.

He could hear the thump of Alabama’s body dropping into the trunk. He could see the back end of the car dipping.

“How do I know you didn’t kill her,” he said. “How do I know you didn’t see her over here, figure she was after you, and killed her yourself.”

Spencer grinned.

“Now that’s something I hadn’t thought of,” he said. “You’re right. You don’t know. Maybe it happened just like that for all you know. It’s a bitch isn’t it?” He held out the key and dropped it into Wilde’s hand. “The woman’s up on the top floor.”

He turned to leave.

He stopped and said over his shoulder, “Be sure she understands that she’s not to go to the police. You too, for that matter. If that happens, I’ll know. I always know.”

He walked away.

Wilde pulled his gun.

“Hey, Spencer.”

The man stopped and turned.

Wilde raised the barrel and pointed it at Spencer’s chest.

“Why’d you tell me about Alabama? Just to watch me squirm?”

Spencer shook his head.

“My job is to kill River,” he said. “Now I don’t have to because you’re going to do it. Have a nice life.”

He turned and walked away.

“Hey, Spencer,” Wilde shouted.

The man stopped again.

He turned.

“Why didn’t you kill Alexa? You thought you had the real map-”

“That was going to happen this afternoon, right after I killed River,” he said. “I was going to plant Alexa at River’s place and make it look like he did it.”

He turned and walked.

“What about London?” Wilde said.