Bob Becker P.I.: Jim Scott Books, #22

By Mike Jackson

Bob Becker P.I. is Jim Scott Books #22, and introduces Bob Becker and a few other new characters.  Bob is Private Investigator, who owns and operates his small company, Bob Becker Decretive/Protection Agency, with his partner Bill Hedden in St. Charles County, Missouri, just across the Missouri River from St. Louis County.  After a woman living in Los Angeles sees her husband kill a woman, she flees to the St. Louis area, arriving at Bob's office, just as two of the men working for her husband attempt to kill her. 

From that point onward, Bob agrees to protect her, until her husband can be brought to justice.  Along the way, he has help from Hector Garcia, who dispatches two of his men to assist him in his efforts, along with the use of Jim Scott's computer, as well as Dan and Janet Orf.  Needless to say, he succeeds.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Jackson
• Release date: Jan 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215543269

Mike Jackson

After serving in the Navy, Mike Jackson went into construction for a couple of years, then into banking for a few more. His next endeavor was in sales, where he spent most of the remainder of his life…until he started writing. On finding out that the most enjoyable thing of his life was writing, he's kept at it for several years and is still plodding along. Mike is married with two adult children and two grandkids. Mike and his wife have one dog at the present time, but he is a pip…and runs the house.

Book preview

1.

Terri Durbin came home early from grocery shopping, with the intent of cooking a fine meal for her husband, Jay...as a prelude to having a long conversation about their marriage—which she was becoming less and less happy with.  Her purse draped over her shoulder, with a long strap attached to it, she carried her two bags of groceries in through the back door, which led into their kitchen. 

She had been unable to park in the double garage, since another car blocked her way.  As she set the groceries on a counter, she heard her husband hollering.  Curious, and a bit taken aback, she eased a swinging door that led from the kitchen into what had once been a breakfast nook.  It had been changed into an office for her husband, since she used the den as her own office.

As she squinted through the crack in the door, she saw a woman she didn’t know, with blood running down from her recently split lip.  Her husband was still ranting on.  Amongst the things he had to say pertained to the woman being one of his whores, and that she had no business getting into his drug stash because he had a major drug deal in the works.

That was all Terri needed to hear.  She eased the door shut and walked to her purse, on her way to the back door through which she had entered.  As she opened the door, she heard a shot, then heard her husband calmly say, I feel a lot better killing her, than trying to deal with her otherwise.  Get rid of the body...where it isn’t likely to be found.

Terri sucked in a deep breath, and very slowly and quietly closed the door behind her.  She all but ran to her car, got in, started it, and backed up to turn around, before heading down the long drive to the street.

While she was doing so, Jay Durbin decided to get a cup of coffee from the kitchen while two of his men, Moonbeam Brown and Dingy Reid, gathered up the dead prostitute.  When Durbin went into the kitchen, he immediately noticed the two bags of groceries Terri had placed on the counter.  Almost as quickly, he realized she must have been in the house recently.  Fearing the worst, he hurried through the back door, and ran to the end of the house. 

He was in time to see Terri’s car turn onto the road below.  From the elevation of the house, which was well above the roadway, he could clearly see Terri make a left turn and rapidly drive down the street—at a rate of speed well above her norm.  He swore under his breath, and hurried back into the house.  By the time he got back to his small office, he could see his two men were nearing the front door.  He ran after them.  As soon as you dump that piece of crap, get back here.  We’ve got a problem.  I’m sure my darling wife must have been inside the house when we were dealing with our damned whore.

That said, Durbin went back into the house and to his office.  There he sat and thought for a while, and soon realized there was no way to know where Terri might be heading.  If to the police, she almost surely would do so using her cell phone.  Once he reasoned it all out, he hurried to the washroom and got a jug of bleach.  He also picked up a few rags and headed back to his office.  He looked things over carefully and decided to just roll up the throw rug, which had soaked up most of the blood from the deadly wound to his former employee. 

Hefting it up he grunted, but managed to carry it to his car, which was in the garage, and put it in the trunk.  He then went back and, with one of the rags, used bleach to clean up all the blood spots he could see.  Next he thought of his clothing.  He went back to the laundry room with the bleach, and took off his shirt and pants.  After he put them in the washing machine, he poured in a liberal amount of bleach and started the washer.  Fearful the police might arrive at any time, he hurried up to the bedroom he shared with Terri, re-dressed, and headed back downstairs. 

When he got there, he gathered up his laptop and spare gun, then headed to his car.  Soon he was driving down the long driveway.  After a bit of thought, he headed to a warehouse he owned.  On the way, he called Dingy Reid, and told him to meet him there, after the body was disposed of. 

The road he was using was almost surely the road the police would use to get to the house he’d just left—and he wondered why no police passed him on the way.  The more he thought about it, the more he reasoned Terri may have decided to just run.  While he could not fathom why she would do so, he slowly formed a plan of action.

When he reached the warehouse, he immediately set up his laptop and started monitoring Terri’s checking account.  The account, he knew, was the one with her debit/credit card.  There was no activity, so he just settled back to wait on Reid and Brown to arrive.

***

While Durbin waited, Terri was doing her own planning.  She had decided to run rather than call the police, because she had little trust the police would be able to keep her safe.  She decided to head for St. Louis, with a better plan to keep safe until her husband could be brought to justice.  Her best friend, Courtney Heatherton—and her husband, Jeff—lived in St. Louis County, Missouri.  Terri was originally from the St. Louis area, and Courtney had been her best friend growing up.  The best part of her plan for going to St. Louis, was her idiot husband was not aware of her friendship with Courtney.  Courtney and her husband had been out of the country when she married Durbin, and while they had spoken on the phone several times, Durbin had never been aware of it.  There was no intent to deceive on Terri’s part.  It had just never come up in conversation, and the calls always seemed to happen when he was away, or she was out looking for an acting job.  Terri was an actress, had been in a rather long running television show, and now did several feature roles on various other shows. 

The reason Terri had settled on St. Louis almost immediately, was the fact Courtney had often sung the praises of a man by the name of Bob Becker.  Courtney’s husband, Jeff, was an international banker, and they spent quite a bit of time abroad.  When traveling, they normally traveled with bodyguards (recommended by Bob), and when in St. Louis had relied on the first-rate security system he had installed in their home.  The need for all the security was due to Jeff’s very successful career.  They were both extremely rich, and very high profile...and therefore prime targets for any evildoers after the fast buck.

Taking all that into consideration—as well as knowing Jeff and Courtney were abroad...again—caused Terri to decide to make her way to St. Louis just as fast as she could, and to contact Bob Becker once there.  Her first step was to drive to LAX, park her car in long-term parking, then set about seeing what her fastest route to St. Louis would be.  As it turned out, the quickest route was through Las Vegas, with a change of airlines there for a direct flight to St. Louis, arriving around nine in the morning.  She booked the flights and checked in for the first of her two flights.

***

Durbin had long since managed to get Terri’s online data, and the passwords to her checking accounts.  As he waited for Brown and Reid to arrive, he was busy monitoring Terri’s accounts.  When the airline charge came through, he immediately had the information he needed to find out both her destination, and time of arrival.  He called Freddie Carnahan and Geoff Hookings, the two pilots of his small executive jet.  Those two were instructed to head to the plane, wait for the arrival of Brown and Reid, and to do as told by those two.

Durbin had just finished when Brown and Reid arrived.  They were soon dispatched to the plane, with instructions to kill Terri at the earliest possible time.  Both men fully understood the urgency of doing as told, and hurried to the plane without the least delay.

They arrived in the St. Louis area an hour before Terri, and rented two cars.  One they used, and one for the two pilots to follow them, hang back, and await developments.  From Lambert International in St. Louis, they followed the cab Terri got into, and ultimately decided to make their try for Terri as she walked into Bob Becker’s office.

***

Robert (Bob) Becker looked up as the small, rather attractive Terri entered his office.  When he stood to greet her, his peripheral vision picked up a slow-moving car just approaching the right edge of his office.  He turned his head a bit, and saw what he thought he had seen...a gun protruding from the passenger side of the car.  As he took two long strides toward her, he yelled, Get down!

By then he had reached Terri, and put his arms around her, as he pulled her with him to the floor, each landing on their side.  Even as they hit the floor, the Moonbeam Brown opened fire and blew out the two front windows in his office, but none of the shots came near either Bob or Terri. 

As soon as the shots stopped, Bob jumped up, and ordered, Stay down, as he pulled the gun in his shoulder holster on his way toward the shattered windows. 

Dingy Reid, driving the car swore under his breath while Brown ejected the spent clip of his weapon, and attempted to insert a new one.  Reid’s consternation was over a very recent development.  When he and Brown had decided to make their try on their target, there had been no traffic in front of him.  As the shooting had been happening, a car had pulled in front of him from the nearest of the parking access lanes.

From there, things only got worse.  It suddenly seemed to Reid that cars started moving all over the parking lot, and access road he was on.  He found himself totally blocked from going forward, or backward.  As he tried to ignore all the shouting and screaming going on, he looked for any way around the mess.

Reid pounded on his steering wheel and swore again.  With a helpless feeling in the pit of his stomach, he could think of only one thing to try—as Brown was fumbling with a replacement magazine for his automatic weapon—while observing the mess the traffic had caused. 

Bob’s office was part of a shopping and business area in St. Charles, Missouri.  His office was down two businesses from the anchor tenant of the shopping area, which was a major grocery store.

As Bob jumped through his shattered plate-glass window, Reid tried to pull up on the curb to his right.  His front wheel got hung up and twisted in such a manner that, had he continued forward, he would have run into one of the brick pillars at the front of the store.  Bob saw the car make the move, and also saw the gunman ejecting the spent clip from the automatic weapon he was using.  Bob made an instant decision, aimed, and fired.  The round ran true and struck Brown in the right wrist, shattering it.  Then, just as Reid backed off the curb, Bob shot again, with the intent of clipping the back of Brown’s neck, to render him immobile.  However, when the car came off the curb, Brown’s head got in the way of the shot, as his head was lowered about four inches with the drop of the car.  He died almost instantly. 

Bob didn’t even take time to cuss about the situation, as he lined up a shot on the back of the neck of Reid—again hoping to disable him, without killing him.  This time his shot went true, to the exact spot he intended, and Reid instantly lost all feeling, passed out, and slumped forward.  As he did, his foot slid off the accelerator, causing the car to move back slowly, until it ran into another car...whose driver had witnessed Bob’s shots, jumped out of his car, and ran for safe cover.

Bob hurried back into his office, again through one of the shattered windows.  By then Terri was standing, and Bob held out his hand to her.  Come with me, be careful stepping through the window.

Terri noticed some glass sticking up from the base of the window, and stepped gingerly out onto the sidewalk.  As she did, Bob smiled.  I’m Bob Becker...as you’ve no doubt guessed.  Who are you?

Terri Durbin.

Bob took her left arm in his right hand, holding his gun in his left.  Come on with me, up to that car.  I don’t know if those guys were after you or me.  If you do, I hope you can identify them.

Terri swallowed as she walked alongside Bob.  As they headed toward the car, Bob asked, If I may ask, why were you coming in to my office?

Hopefully to hire you—for protection.

From whom and why?

My husband.  He and two of his men killed a woman in our home yesterday.

Bob frowned, Normally I don’t take domestic cases—but in this case, I’d say you need protection, if these guys were after you.  I don’t come cheap.

I’m loaded...my own money.  Got more’n my husband.

Bob grunted, and then as they reached the car, grabbed the hair of the dead man, lifted his head, and turned his face to give Terri a good look.  That’s Moonbeam—one of the guys with my husband yesterday.  I think his last name is Brown.

Bob chuckled while leading Terri around the car.  As he did, he scanned the area to look for more possible trouble, and noted the sound of sirens getting nearer by the second.  When they reached the driver’s side of the car, Reid’s face was turned toward them.  Terri looked at him.  Dingy Reid...the other guy from yesterday...um, with my husband.

Bob led Terri back around the car.  Once there, he released her arm, and put his gun back in his right hand.  May as well wait for the cops right here.  You want to tell me the full story of what’s going on?

***

By the time the first police car arrived, Terri had finished telling Bob the portion of the events leading up to her arrival in her office as she knew them.  As the police car pulled to a stop, Terri sighed.  So that’s it in a nutshell.  I want to hire you to protect me.  You game?

Like I said, I normally I don’t get involved in domestic situations, but this seems to be well beyond that...so yeah, I’m game.  But remember, I don’t come cheap.

"That’s okay—as I said, I’m rich."

Bob chuckled again at the casual way she handled being well-off financially, as he saw the unmarked police car door open, and noted with relief a policeman he knew—St. Charles Police Department Homicide Detective Lieutenant Gus Mantia—got out. 

Gus looked over the scene, saw Bob and Terri by the car, and walked in their direction.  Not only did Gus and Bob know each other, they had a mutual respect for one another.  Gus had spent eight years in the Army, most of his time as an M.P.  A series of events caused him to leave the Army.  First off, his mother was ailing; secondly, he was a bit upset with the liberals’ ceaseless harping on the military; and thirdly, on a visit to his mother, he had been offered a job with the St. Charles Police Department by the then-Chief of Police, if he chose to exit the Army.  His hitch finished, he did—and had a very fast rise up in the ranks to his current rank and position.  He had met Bob early on in his police career, and by the time he had become a Detective Sergeant working Homicide, he had been threatened by a murderer...who, though in custody, had many unsavory friends.  He asked for Bob’s help in securing his home and family against the threat, knowing while Bob was a licensed private detective, his main business was home, or business, security. 

After installing the very latest in home protection gear at the Mantia home, Bob was at their home, doing a test on some of the equipment, when a friend of the murderer showed up to carry out the threat.  After dispatching the would-be assassin, Bob had knocked on the front door, and asked Gus what he should do with the body now decorating Gus’s front yard.  That had sealed the friendship between the two men. 

Now, as Gus walked toward Bob, he noted the rather attractive lady with him, and also noticed Bob shifting his weapon to his left hand as he extended his hand.  Hi, Gus.

Gus returned the greeting as the two men shook hands.  Bob tilted his head toward Terri.   This is Terri Durbin.  Terri, this is Gus Mantia...a Homicide Lieutenant with the St. Charles Police.

Those two exchanged hellos, then Gus took a closer look at Terri.  You from around here?  You look familiar.

Was once.  Born and raised in the St. Louis area, but now reside in the Los Angeles area.

Even as Terri spoke, it hit Gus.  You’re an actress—damn good, if you don’t mind me saying so.

Terri laughed, "Sure I mind, I’m not ‘damn good’, I’m ‘great’."

While those two had been talking, Bob had also remembered who Terri was.  She had been on a drama show that had lasted for a few years, and it was one of Bob’s favorite shows.  It was now in syndication, and he had seen every episode.  While the show had been off the air a few years now, she had also appeared in guest starring roles in another drama series since her show was cancelled.  She had also starred in two very successful movies, and had become very rich as a result. 

But, as other police cars arrived and an ambulance was approaching, Bob held up his hand.  Uh, guys—we have a little matter of a shootout in the Wild West here.  Gus, those two guys in the car, and Terri’s husband, killed a gal in Los Angeles yesterday.  Terri was a witness, and those two came gunning for her.  The guy on the passenger side was the shooter—he’s dead.  The driver is probably paralyzed, but still alive.

Gus grinned in spite of himself at the way Bob took charge of the situation...the very thing Gus should have been doing.  Now, as Bob quickly told him the highlights of what had transpired, Gus walked closer to the car and looked in.  How many shots did you fire?

Three.

Gus had seen the shattered arm and hole in the head of the quite dead Moonbeam Brown, and one glance told him that a good-sized portion of the neck of Dingy Reid was missing as well.  Good shooting.  Sure glad you managed to not hit any innocents in the area.

The SEALs teach us to hit what we shoot at.

Gus just smiled at the retired Marine Master Sergeant and Navy SEAL, as he walked over to the gathering uniformed police officers, and gave them fast orders.  Then he relayed what he had been told about the condition of the two in the car to the paramedics, and watched as they started working to take care of Dingy Reid.  Gus also used his cell phone camera to snap a few picture of the scene.

2.

While Gus organized things, Bob took Terri by the arm, and guided her back to his office, where he decided to wait for Gus to finish his directions and delivery of information.

While Gus spoke and took his pictures, the two Durbin pilots watched intently.  Then Freddie Carnahan, a rather strange-looking man, who had been called geeky-looking on more than one occasion, muttered, I think two things:  one, we should get the hell outta here...and two, we should call Durbin and tell him all is not well.

Geoff Hookings, the other pilot, an extremely rotund man, nodded, Yeah, I agree on both counts.  Let’s split.  Since neither Moonbeam nor Dingy is movin’ around, I’d say they’re both dead—and I have no desire to join them.  No way to get to Durbin’s missus now.  The damned guy with her looks to be hell on wheels.

Carnahan, who was driving, quickly agreed, and pulled the car out of the parking spot he’d selected to observe the try on Terri.  I’ll drive—you call Durbin.

Hookings grumbled, Crap, but soon was calling their boss.  When Durbin answered, Hookings quickly brought him up-to-date. 

Durbin swore, then thought a few seconds.  Okay, you two just come on back to L.A. and pick me up.  I’ll round up some reinforcements.

Yes, sir.

***

As that call was ending, Gus headed to Bob’s office.  When he got there, he stepped through one of the shot-out windows.  The paramedics told me it’s a wonder the Reid guy is still alive...and he’s almost surely gonna be paralyzed.  You got any thoughts on what to do now?

Yeah.  I’m taking Terri to my place for safekeeping.  I’ll call in some muscle to help out...from L.A.  May as well have the plane that’ll bring them, tote along a couple of L.A.’s finest, to take her statement.  I think I can arrange it so they won’t get any bright ideas, like taking her back to L.A. as a material witness.  I’ll take care of getting the L.A. cops on the hunt for Terri’s husband.

"Soon to be ex-husband.  As of right now, I’m back to using my maiden name."

Gus asked, Was it your real name you acted under?

Yup—the one and only Terri Hawksworth.

Gus nodded and looked at Bob.  Okay, I’ll wrap things up here, then come on out to your place, Bob.  Tell Tillie I’ll bring her a bag of treats when I come.

Terri tilted her head in a questioning manner.  Bob laughed.  Will do.  I’ll explain on the way to my place, Terri.  As he spoke, he handed the gun he’d used in the shooting to Gus, then opened his gun locker, and took out a twin to the one he’d given to Gus.

Gus took the gun, told Terri and Bob he’d see them later, then left the office—once again through the broken front window.  Seeing that, Bob made a fast call to a friend who had done the lettering on the front windows, told him briefly what had transpired, and asked him to see about getting replacement glass put in, and lettering the new glass.

That out of the way, he took Terri by the arm and led her to and through the rear door of his office, where his car was parked.  Outside, they headed to the Wentzville, Missouri area.

During the drive, he explained to Terri that Tillie was his German Shepherd.  Gus and his family knew her well, as they had spent two days and nights at his home while, he installed a security system at the Mantia home, after Gus had been threatened by a very unsavory character.  He omitted telling her about the man he had killed, the night Gus and family had come home, while he was testing the system.

***

As Bob explained those items to Terri, Freddie Carnahan and Geoff Hookings were already airborne, headed back to Los Angeles.  Once Carnahan set the auto pilot, he glanced over at Hookings.  I’m thinkin’ we should just head this plane anywhere but Los Angeles, and walk away while the walking is good.

Yeah, not a bad idea—but for Durbin.  The slimy bastard would find us sure as hell...unless the cops get him first.  And I’m betting he gets out of this mess somehow.

I guess you’re right—to L.A. it is.  Unless we flew up to the place of his in Iowa.  He’s sure to have a large stash of cash there, and if we found it...

No way in hell, Freddie.  He’s got a stash there, he sure wouldn’t leave it where it’d be easy to find.  Remember the old couple who live in the other house on the place?  You think he’d risk making it easy?  Fly this damned plane to L.A....or I will.

Okay, but I bet we wind up getting our asses shot off—or in jail—outta this deal.

***

In Los Angeles, Durbin was acting fast to put things in the order he wished them to be.  He had summoned one of his top lieutenants, and placed him in charge of his evil empire, then arranged for four of his trusted employees to meet him at the private airport