Desolate(53)

“We just got a call, a homicide at Blooming Daisy’s.”



“FUCK!” I shout, launching a bucket of roses across the street. It’s a fucking bloodbath.

“You don’t need to be here, Cap,” one of the officers says to me, but I do. Sean is Mel’s best friend and was a victim of Ryan’s, and now he’s sliced and diced in there. Mel’s going to lose it. This isn’t fair. How many more people has she got to lose? She doesn’t build relationships easily since Ryan, and her only family is Cereus, Sean, and me. Fuck! I boot up Ryan’s GPS which tells me he’s at Bluewater. He wouldn’t have had time to do this, clean up and get there, unless he didn’t clean up, but then Jenna would have called. Jenna. Something was off with her. I need to know more about her.”





JENNA JARVIS DIDN’T EXIST UNtil nine years ago when she changed her name from Danielle Cordell to Jenna Jarvis. Why does that name sound so familiar to me? I run the name Cordell through the criminal database and it comes up with the drug dealer, the one Ryan killed outside Bar Blue. I do a search and all the information filters into the screen. She is the sister of deceased Cordell. She was fifteen at the time of his death and living with grandparents after her parents were killed in a car crash when she was twelve.

“Cap,” Mills says, coming into my office and dropping a box down on the desk, “One of Donovan’s men found this at the Leighton place and I was told to bring these straight over.

Flipping the lid, I’m confronted with images of Jenna, from a young girl up to now, and some are in compromising positions. She was the girlfriend of Leighton? She’s the source of all this. I open up Leighton’s laptop and go through the files but nothing is of interest until I look into his emails and find one sent to a Danielle. I use that email to track her computer and infiltrate it; her passwords are all the date he died. It’s like taking candy from a very fucked up baby. I manage to bring up instant messages sent back and forth between her and a Belinda Ruth. I run her name; she’s a nurse suspended while an investigation is ongoing for the death of a patient under her care. There’s a listing for her last known address.

I bring up the instant messages from yesterday and freeze.

Danielle33

We need to change the plan, Sean is first and then Ryan.

Linda40

Tomorrow. I miss you; need this to be done so we can be seen together again.

Danielle33

This is for my brother it will be done when everyone has paid.

Danielle33 Logged off.

I check the database for the last known address of Belinda Ruth; it’s a little over thirty miles away. I call Ryan and make my way there.





I COULDN’T RESIST SEEING HIM, and it was worth it, his face was priceless.

He’s focusing on getting an arrangement ready on a side counter to the right of the shop and without looking to see who entered, causing the bell to ding, he calls, “Be right with you.”

It’s weird seeing him working in a flower shop. He always was a gentle soul. I laugh internally at how much I played with his emotions. He was a talented writer and from a few online searches I located a blog he keeps for short stories he writes and posts. I debated leaving comments but got too preoccupied with other things. I turn the “we are closed” sign on the door and make my way over to him. I grab a bunch of fancy looking shit from a nearby display bucket and drop them down on the counter next to him. “Would these be okay to send to an old flame?”

His body jolts; I guess my voice hasn’t changed that much in eighteen years. His hands shake, causing the scissors he’s holding to hit against the counter. He gasps and steps back, holding them out towards me. I hold my hands up in mock surrender and smirk. Is that anyway to greet old friends?

“What are you doing out? Why didn’t they tell me?”

I shrug. “Maybe they didn’t think you were important enough to tell. You were never really that important, Sean.” I step closer and he steps back. “I saw you with your boyfriend. Finally came out of the closet, huh?”

“You stay the hell away from him.”

I back up and wander around the shop picking up flowers and sniffing them.

“I was just going to ask if it’s serious. I thought maybe you and I could pick up where we left off.” I hold up my arm and he trips backwards, trying to get away. It would be amusing if it weren’t pathetic. He scrambles to his feet and grabs for the phone on the wall. “I’m calling the police.”

“Why? What have I done? I’ll catch you around. Let me know if you change your mind about catching up.” I exit, flipping the open sign on my way.