Killing The Game by Michael Martin

[Michael M]

Killing The Game

Michael Martin

Crime drama, opening scene: Introduces protagonists, setting, tone, and foreshadows the primary conflict.

 

Chicago, Illinois. The Present.

Friday had not been the best and that was before a squad car appeared behind me, electric blues ignited. Heart into chest. Being reasonably certain I hadn't broken any traffic laws, the squad probably meant one thing: Lieutenant Kinchloe wanted me.

I had so hoped those days were over...

Lieutenant Kinchloe was convinced I killed my wife. But he couldn't prove it. But man did he try. For me that meant hours being subjected to the type of mental torture that is legal tender for officers of the law—especially when they're frustrated. 'Course, legal frustration can go where it wants, including inflicting torture beyond the merely mental—which is a place Lieutenant Kinchloe and his boys have also taken me.

Squad let loose a warble on the siren: sphincter-factor—on me—immediately to maximum values. Swearing bitterly, I pulled to the curb; same time, phone in hand, began scrolling for my lawyer.

But something was...odd.

“Officer Jade?”

The police officer now standing at my door was about five-nine, in very good shape and well tanned. She peered over mirrored aviators. “Jackson is missing.”

Major stress unwind. An audible breath. Hung up on my lawyer; this had nothing to do with Lieutenant Kinchloe. Even still, I put in the effort to appear ambiguous. Detached. “Well, look at this,” I said. Threw a rearward glance to the squad with the flashing lights. “Since when?”

Officer Jade was nonchalant. “Willow Grove PD was low on their minority-female quota. Federal funding was at stake. I showed the chief credentials he wanted to see and...voila.”

Officer Jade's hands moved in the flourish manner.

In return I was sarcastic: “Credentials he wanted to see... Well, we're a ways from Willow Grove. Aren't you out of your jurisdiction?”

Officer Jade shrugged. “Grove PD filled their quota, otherwise they don't really want me around. Chief threw me a badge and said go play somewhere. I figured they wouldn't miss the car.”

“So you drive around town for kicks, pulling people over...”

Hint of smile played itself across Officer Jade's lips. “Stopped a really hot guy the other day. He didn't want a ticket. He did what it took.”

Shake of head. “Just do not try to tell me this is a random traffic stop.”

Officer Jade's badge was shiny and glinting in the sunlight. “You I followed from work,” she said. “I needed to grab your ass before you got home to that bitch.”

Another audible breath—though it wasn't the cop calling my dead wife names that brought it out of me. For one thing, my highly unfaithful distaff warranted the affront. For another, Officer Jade had long despised every woman I'd ever given a second glance to; guess I'd gotten used to that shit from her. Maybe. “Lindsey is dead.”

“Really?” A raised eyebrow appeared over the aviators. “How?”

“Freak accident,” I said. Then, for whatever reason: “And no I didn't do it.”

Got a protracted study out of that one; Officer Jade became conspicuous weighing whether there was truth to my words. Might have been the sun, maybe the glasses—I don't know. I couldn't read her. In any event she let it pass, electing a return to the cause of this unexpected reunion. “Did you hear what I said?”

Debate: whether to even answer. I sure as hell didn't want to. Damn it. “You said Jack is missing...”

“Kyle, he's in trouble—I'm sure of it. We've got to find him.”

We've got to find him...

More sarcasm for sure, though I managed to keep it to myself. Outwardly I was neutral. “Jack is always in trouble,” I said—which was true. “By now he ought to be fairly adept at getting himself out.”

The glasses came down and Officer Jade stared at me, Ursula Jade, you should know; Ursula Jade, grand master of the stare, arch regnant of the manipulative. Ursula who on average needed five minutes to absolutely own any woman or man walking...

“Jackson is in trouble,” Ursula Jade repeated, her eyes active, unyielding, and visiting severe devastation upon me.

Hadn't seen the woman in over a year—I didn't even fight back.

“He's your brother,” she said. “We have to find him.”

 

* * *

 

Jackson Tyree Pierce was my brother.

Ursula Jade could still say it anyway.

It was just, I hadn't seen him in a while either.

“How do you know he's missing?” I asked.

Ursula and I were in the parking lot across the street from where she'd pulled me over. We stood outside my car, her borrowed squad behind, no longer flashing any lights. Checking the girl over, I was happy to see she hadn't changed much, physically. Still looked good. Optically, though—those eyes. Fuckers already had deep, deep hooks into me...

Been more than a year since I'd seen Ursula Jade, five minutes back and I was in serious trouble.

“I'm staying at his place,” she said. “He hasn't been home since Wednesday. Kyle, I’ve called and looked everywhere. No answer on his phone and nobody knows where he is.”

Okay it was unlike Jack to just disappear; too many dangerous people out there wanted a chunk of his ass. He usually let some trusted soul know where he was. “You sure he didn't fly to the Caribbean to check on his bank accounts? Sometimes his phone doesn't work down there.”

“Jackson always takes me with him when he goes someplace nice—like the Caribbean,” Ursula said. “Plus all his clothes are in his closet. His luggage...still there.”

Ursula Jade was a master and she could drive me crazy a million different ways, but one thing she could almost never do to me was lie. She couldn't lie to Jack either, which made Jack and me probably the only two people anywhere with something over Ursula Jade. Right then I could see: the girl was not lying.

“I'm being serious, Kyle.”

Considered the phone in my pocket—although there was more debate. It'd been a long damn time since I’d made that call and I sure as hell didn't want to do it then.

Still... Ursula was staring at me, digging, devastating—owning.

“Kyle, he's your brother.”

Yup, she could still say it...

But here was a thing: in addition to being truthful, Ursula was worried. Which was a problem. Worry was something Ursula Jade rarely (read never) let show, so when she did, you-yourself better worry. Everything about Ursula—her demeanor, her body language, her eyes—was in agreement. This was no contrived drama, no ruse to get me back into the fold. Jack was in trouble. With a sigh I pulled the phone from my pocket and scrolled the address book.

For what it'll tell you I still carried his number.

My thumb hovered over the green button, then tapped it. “How long have you been staying at his place?”

“'Couple months.”

A nod to that. Tried avoiding the eyes, though—as if. Also—and at the time I was not even ashamed to think this—I was almost praying that Jack not actually answer his phone.

I did not want to talk to that man.

(I did not want to talk to Ursula.)

Look out of Ursula, as if she'd read my thoughts.

Yup, I was seriously fucked.

Meanwhile: “You have reached the voice mailbox of...”

Ursula's eyes flashed in the way she knew drove me crazy. “Kyle. You are the only person on this entire planet I can trust.” More flash. “You're the only person on this entire planet Jackson can trust.” Pause. “And you know this.”

A glance at my phone (it had gone directly to voicemail—no ringing—probably meant Jack's phone was turned off), inner sigh of relief. I hung up without leaving a message. Same time mulled Ursula's proclamation on trust...

Sure I knew this. I knew trust. Always would. No matter what...what they did to me.

Ursula Jade stared; the hooks set even deeper...

“Okay, okay,” I said, throwing up all my white flags. Gazed at the sky a moment. Ursula Jade owned me. Gazed at the sky another moment. Yup. And any serious resistance on my part was jettisoned before it even started. “No answer on Jack's phone,” I said. “You've checked all his haunts? Where's his car?”

“Spent the past two days checking the places he goes,” Ursula said. “His car is not in the garage.”

“Does the car have satellite navigation? Can we locate it that way?”

“I have no idea.”

“What kind of car is it?”

“I don't know...black. New. CTB or RJV...bunch of letters.”

That didn't help. “What about his goons?”

“You mean the compliance team? I called them. They don't know where he is. They're looking.”

I nodded (yeah, dreading to ask). “So what do you want out of me?”

“I'm no good at this stuff, Kyle. I need you.”

Well I could practically laugh out loud there. One thing about Ursula Jade: if it was sneaky, underhanded or devious, she excelled. Ursula needed no help. Far as that went with me—anything sneaky or devious? It was Ursula and Jack who were my teachers. “Who is he seeing now?”

“I just told you, I’ve been at his place a couple months.”

“Yeah, so?” Ursula and Jack had never been remotely monogamous—even when they were married.

Ursula protested. “Kyle, we've been trying to get back together.”

For...some reason that pleased me. Honest. “Good,” I said, to which I got a smile out of Ursula—which also pleased me. Then I had to go ruin it. “Who was he with before you came back? Have you checked with her?”

Yeah the grin vanished, voice grew minutely tense. “I have not checked with her...I don't know who she is. Was.”

Ursula Jade was not generally a jealous person, but occasionally it did come out. Quickest way to get it out was to mention Jack's other women, even though she knew full damn well he had them. I made the attempt to again see some happy on her face. “You're right—was. Still, we don't want to leave any stone unturned...”

“We? That means you'll help?” The smile came back, which was...well it was a very big deal to me.

Even so, a huge case of the dreads began a slow crawl through my body. There were reasons why I’d exiled myself from Jack Pierce and Ursula Jade, reasons I'd somewhat successfully buried—but not totally. Reasons sure to be exhumed if I again got caught up in all Jack's and Ursula's shit.

The smile remained on Ursula's face; she kept her eyes hard at work, tearing into me.

Ursula Jade owned me...

Another sigh. I did not want to do this.

Jack had been missing two days. Probably something totally innocent (no, innocuous, Jack was never innocent). Knowing Jack, he'd flown to the Cayman's to meet with his offshore bankers but he didn't bring Ursula because his trip included a stop in Jamaica, home of Rita Ma Lita—an over-the-top but long-time honey...

“...That means you'll help?” Ursula repeated, little girl-like in her excitement and hopefulness. The smile was large.

And, yeah, all the shit I'd been through aside, that was something I lived for.

Damn, that part of me...