A Different Drum

By Frank Kelly

Shenandoah Shen Jones, on temporary suspension from the Phoenix Police Department, is asked by his boss to investigate the possible stalking of a family friend, a local television reporter. When the reporter is found dead, Jones is plunged into the dark world of sexual depravity, a journey that nearly costs him his life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 24, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546251736

Frank Kelly

Frank Kelly, now retired, started as a police officer, but spent the majority of his career in the security and criminal investigations fields working primarily with financial fraud. He is the author of three previous novels: Shadow Dancer, Centenarian and Speed of Night.

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© 2018 Frank Kelly. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  07/20/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5174-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5173-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018908386

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

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

Epilogue

You and I travel to the beat of a different drum

Oh, can’t you tell by the way I run

Every time you make eyes at me …

So goodbye I’ll be leaving

I see no sense to this crying and grieving

We’ll both live a lot longer

If you live without me

                                        Mike Nesmith

                                        Screen Gems/ EMI Music, Inc.

                                        Linda Ronstadt

CHAPTER

ONE

IT WAS ONE of those things that could happen to anyone, I suppose; however, I’m not surprised that it happened to me. You see, I seem to have good luck only when I’m lucky my bad luck wasn’t worse. If that sounds self-serving, forgive me. I just know myself better than anyone else knows me; however, it would be awhile before I realized the significance of the event.

Actually, I’d been minding my own business, sitting there with a beer in my hand watching a particularly lovely girl in the briefest bikini I’d ever seen stroll across the courtyard of my apartment complex and join her friend on a blanket near the pool. Being temporarily suspended as a police officer with the Phoenix Police Department was mostly a downer, but it did have its perks.

I was so absorbed when a hand clapped me on my shoulder. I looked up into the bright blue eyes of Officer Bill Hopalong Cassiday of Phoenix’s finest looking down at me. Cassiday wasn’t smiling.

I’ve been looking all over for you, Jones, he growled. His broad Irish face was florid from the desert heat. He grunted as he sat across from me.

I’m not that hard to find, Bill I replied, smiling at him and spreading my arms. You couldn’t have been looking very hard.

Cassiday sighed. His uniform caught the attention of many of the sun worshipers gathered around the pool, especially the two sharing a joint near the fence and who immediately found another location to occupy.

Where the hell is your cell phone? he inquired, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

I keep it turned off, Bill; the damned thing rings all the time. I took another sip from my beer and smiled at him. Besides, I'm currently on suspension as you well know …

The big man grimaced. You’re one hopeless son of a bitch, do you know that?

So I’ve been told, I chuckled, eyeing him closely. Now that you’ve found me what do you need?

Cassiday rubbed his face again and looked around, avoiding eye contact. I think your wife might have filed another complaint.

Ex-wife, I corrected, mildly curious. The mere mention of Alexis' name caused a lump to form. Since our divorce six months previously dear Alexis had made a habit of filing complaints falsely alleging misconduct on my part followed by unsuccessful pleadings to reconcile. As a police officer, this caused me no end of grief.

What did I do this time?

Hell if I know, but the boss wants to talk to you, Cassiday replied, and he’s not happy. The boss of course was Carmine Longo, Commander of Special Assignments where I worked … that is, when I was working.

I snorted. "He’s not happy? She’s my ex-wife! How happy do you think I am?"

Cassiday rolled his eyes. "Don’t give me a rough time, asshole. I'm just the goddamn messenger."

I was intrigued. It's serious enough for you to come and get me?

It’s always serious when the boss beckons, Cassiday snorted.

"He’s your boss, I corrected. I was momentarily distracted when brief bikini changed positions. I’m on administrative leave." I used my fingers as quotation marks.

You wanna tell Longo that? Cassiday sighed and then groaned as he rose. C’mon, I’m supposed to give you a ride.

I uttered my own sigh. Let me get into some street clothes, Bill. I sure as hell don’t want to go like this.

The main headquarters of the Phoenix Police Department is an imposing granite building on the northeast corner of Seventh Avenue and Washington Street in downtown Phoenix. The Special Assignments Squad occupies a small corner on the third floor.

As luck would have it, my boss, Lieutenant Carmine Longo, was in his office and Cassiday was right; he indeed looked unhappy. Of Sicilian descent, Longo looked for all the world like a New York Mafioso, rotund and swarthy with a receding hairline and a voice that sounded like someone cleaning a cat litter box.

Grab a chair, he said gruffly and then, pointing at Cassiday, he grunted, you can go. Cassiday nodded wordlessly and backed out of the office closing the door behind him.

What did I do this time?’ I asked as I slumped into a chair in front of Longo’s desk. I haven’t seen Alexis in weeks and if I see her again in this lifetime, it’ll be too fucking soon."

Longo grimaced. I had to tell Cassiday something. If you had your damned cell turned on like everyone else in the Valley I could’ve called you.

I blinked. This isn’t about Alexis, is it?

Longo rubbed his eyes and shook his head. No, I haven’t heard from her, he paused, but I do need a favor.

Despite his countenance, Carmine Longo is the kindest and proudest man I know and it took a lot for him to admit he needed help from someone else. I also knew I couldn’t say no.

It was Longo and Longo alone who had saved my job and the reason I was presently on suspension rather than out the door of the Phoenix Police Department. Several weeks before, I had lost my temper while working a domestic situation and taken an abusive drunken husband out of sight for a personal chat.

Sure, I replied, name it.

Longo paused for a moment. Does the name Carly Abbott ring a bell? he asked.

I thought and nodded. She’s a reporter with Channel Eleven News. I’ve chatted with her at several crime scenes. She seems like a nice lady; great legs as I recall.

That’s the one, Longo growled. She did a story on my wife when Gloria was going through breast cancer treatment.

I remember.

It had been a rough time for the Loo and at the time it had looked like his wife might not make it. Longo had shed forty pounds during the ordeal.

She and Gloria became real close friends, he murmured. Gloria thinks of her as one of our daughters. He picked up a pen and began to fiddle with it.

I nodded, but didn’t reply. The boss was one of those guys who didn’t like to be interrupted. She’s got a problem, he murmured, clearing his throat, a big problem.

Oh?

He nodded. She thinks she’s being stalked.

Stalked? I had to admit I was surprised. Does she know who’s stalking her … or why?

"She told me she doesn’t have any idea, but I’ve been a cop long enough to know when someone isn’t being straight with me."

So you think she knows and doesn’t want to say? I had to admit that the circumstances intrigued me.

Longo gave me an exasperated look. Shit, I don’t know, Shen. She’s one of those women who don’t think they need any help.

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. I thought maybe you could talk some sense into her and determine if she’s in real danger. He grimaced. Gloria will have my ass if something happens to her.

It sounds to me like she needs a private eye, Loo. I have a good friend …

Longo vigorously shook his head. I mentioned that too, but she’s adamant; she’s an investigative journalist (here the lieutenant made finger quotations) "and she thinks she doesn’t need help.

"But I also believe she’s scared. Anyway, it took everything I could muster to convince her to talk with you. Hell, I had to practically threaten her!"

You say she’s agreed to talk to me? I asked, more than a little surprised.

Longo nodded. It was like pulling teeth, but yeah. He picked up a small sheet of paper from his desk and handed it over to me.

Her address and phone numbers, both at home and at the television station. Give her a call and set something up.

I stood and reached across the desk and shook his big meaty paw. You got it, Loo.

Thanks, Shen; keep me posted, would you?

Of course.

He paused. By the way, your suspension will be over soon. Do me a favor and don’t beat the crap out of anyone in the meantime.

I grinned and waved the paper. What about this stalker?

Longo chuckled. He’s an exception. I’ll say I did it.

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Cassiday gave me a ride back to my apartment complex. It was now late afternoon and, at one hundred and two degrees, somewhat comfortable for July in the Valley.

I checked my mail and trudged up the flight of stairs to my small apartment. I thought about my conversation with Lieutenant Longo while showering and shaving.

I’d seen the Abbott woman frequently on the local news; pretty enough. You have to be a looker these days it seems. All the female reporters are stunning with flawless complexions and just a hint of cleavage and I often wondered if somewhere there was a factory with them coming off an assembly line, push-up bras and all …

Out of the shower, I went to the kitchen in my skivvies and put one of those nasty ready-to-eat dinners into the microwave. My suspension from the force and been without pay and my savings had taken a real hit. I’d managed to pick up some work in private security through my friendship with Ray Hernandez … and grudgingly taken a loan from my dad. Still, funds were lean and being recently divorced hadn’t helped.

As I ate, my thoughts turned to Alexis. Despite the acrimonious split, I missed her at times and wondered how stupid I could be. What a frigging mess that union had been!

I had blindly ignored the unwritten rule that you never get involved with someone you encounter at work. Alexis had been robbed at her place of employment and her co-worker killed and at the scene she had clung to me like I was the edge of a cliff.

And then the calls started coming asking to meet. I had given in, first because she was stunningly lovely and later because it was far and away the best sex I had ever had.

Unfortunately, the darker side hadn’t surfaced until after the vows were exchanged. Incredibly insecure despite her looks, there had been screaming accusations of infidelity if I was ten minutes late from work. She could not accept the simple fact that police work is not a nine-to-five job and, after five months, I had finally moved out. Still, she hounded me at work and when I refused to see her she lodged complaints of misconduct on my part causing problems with my superiors.

I finished half my dinner and pitched the rest. Finding something decent to wear, I picked up the phone and dialed Carly Abbott’s home number. It rang several times before an answering device kicked in. I didn’t leave a message.

A subsequent call to the television station got the same result and this time I did leave a brief message. I had just settled into an episode of Wheel of Fortune when my phone rang.

This is Carly Abbott, she said when I answered. Her voice was well modulated and casual. You left me a message?

Miss Abbott, my name is Shen Jones and I spoke to Lieutenant Longo this afternoon regarding a situation you might need some assistance with?

There was a distinct pause. He thinks a great deal of you, she finally replied.

The feeling is mutual, Miss Abbott.

Please, call me Carly; any friend of Carmine’s is a friend of mine.

And I’m Shen.

Sam?

No, and I spelled it out for her.

What an odd name. Her voice was friendlier.

It’s a long story. I paused. I’d like very much to get together at your convenience and discuss your, uh, issue, Carly.

Again there was a pause. Well, okay I guess. I’m off tomorrow. You could stop by my place. Carmine says you have my address.

That wouldn’t be wise, Carly, I replied softly.

Oh?

"I’ll explain when we get together. There’s a restaurant in Tempe called Ahoy. Do you know it?"

Sure. I’ve eaten there several times. Great food.

How about, say, one o’clock for lunch; there’s an open area out back where we can talk.

How will I know you? she asked.

Don’t worry; I’ll know you.

CHAPTER

TWO

I ARRIVED AT Ahoy few minutes early and parked the Ram in a lot next to the restaurant. The interior was crowded with lunchtime patrons and I chose an open area in the rear and found a table in a far corner, ordering a draft.

It was going to be a hot day and I was grateful for the canopy covering the table. The cool liquid felt good doing down and I experienced a momentary desire for a smoke; however, I had quit when Alexis and I split and I realized I could no longer afford the damned things.

Just as I was wondering if Carly Abbott would be on time, she appeared in the doorway and I waved when she glanced my way. Nodding, she moved toward me.

Tall and slender, she had that walk women who are comfortable with themselves often do … head erect and shoulders back. She was casually dressed in slacks and a blouse which accented her ample breasts and her long blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

I stood and held out my hand and Carly took it. Her grip was firm, but not excessively so and when she smiled her entire face seemed to glow. Her teeth were white and even above a strong jaw and her eyes were the color of an Arizona winter sky.

Miss Abbott, I said, waiting for her to sit before I took my seat. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

Carly, she corrected, call me Carly. She dropped her purse at her feet while taking her seat and then lowered her head slightly as she looked up at me. The effect was captivating and I decided then and there that I was this woman’s prisoner.

Before we get down to business, she grinned, you must tell me the secret behind your unusual name … Shen? I don’t believe I’ve ever heard that name before. Her face was open and genuine with no sign of ridicule.

I sighed and shrugged. My full name is Shenandoah Barksdale Jones. I paused, looking for a reaction. None came.

My father is originally from a small town in Iowa and for reasons he’s never made clear to me he named me after his hometown. And Barksdale was my mother’s maiden name. I smiled. It’s as simple as that.

Do your parents live here? Carly asked, placing chin in hand, ever the professional interviewer.

I shook my head. My mother died from cancer shortly after I was born and Dad is a professor of chemistry at Syracuse University in upstate New York. I paused and grinned. Aren’t we supposed to be talking about you?

Carly nodded and smiled. I suppose so, but I like to know a little about someone who will know my innermost secrets. She winked and then grew serious. Carmy told me you are currently on suspension, but he wouldn’t tell me why.

I blinked. Carmy? I asked incredulously. Are we talking about the same person? Carmy?

She laughed again. It was a nice laugh. At this point the waiter appeared and took our order. We both chose Reuben sandwiches. I requested another draft and Carly chose ice water.

When we were alone again she pressed on in a friendly fashion. "Would you tell me? Why you are on suspension, that is?" she asked.

Only if you’ll tell me how you get away with calling Lieutenant Longo Carmy, I replied, grinning.

Carly chuckled. His wife and I are very good friends. I just call him what she calls him … now you.

Off the record?

Of course.

"I was