Cain - St. Louis

By Robert Whitmore

This is the first novel in the Cain series. Long ago, he was sentenced to walk the earth as part of his punishment. Now, he has become the anti-hero everyone wishes they could be. This is the story of his visit to St. Louis, hunting sexual predators with the help of an unlikely sidekick.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Whitmore
• Release date: Sep 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088281673

Book preview

1

Rain poured from the night sky. The drops drummed as they exploded on the pavement outside Ashley’s Place, a dive bar in the Soulard area of St. Louis. Over the sound of the rain, the thud of the bass coming from the jukebox inside could still be heard.

A man with gray hair and a white mustache sat at the end of the bar near the front window. He swirled the last few sips of his scotch and looked outside. He saw a man in a long, black leather jacket and a wide-brimmed hat step off the sidewalk across the street and start to cross. He stopped between two parked cars, facing the bar. His face was hidden by the shadow of the hat.

You ready, Gary? asked the bartender, drawing his attention away from the person in the rain.

Huh? Oh, yeah. I’ll take one more, Mikayla. Then, I have to get out of here. Too damn loud!

Double?

Might as well. Leave the ice, though.

She nodded and took the glass. Gary looked back outside, but the man was gone. A young woman in jeans and a green coat ran up to the front door. The rain spilled off of her umbrella until she reached the awning. She closed the umbrella, shook it off, and stepped inside. Some of the older men turned to look at her, as she hung her umbrella on the coat rack.

Becca! Where have you been? yelled a man from half way down the bar. His voice cutting through the booming music. People turned to see what was going on. I told you to be here at 7! It’s not that hard to be on time, is it?

Damn it, Becca said to herself and walked toward him. Max, it’s 7:02 and I didn’t get off work until after 6. You knew that. It looks like you’ve been here for a while, though.

I got off work early. Sue me. Besides, I figured I’d get a head start since you cash out early on me all the time.

Are you already drunk? You are. Pathetic, Becca said. I think I’ll call Jen and go to her house tonight.

No, you won’t, Max said, turning back to the TV and taking a long drink from his beer. Sit down. I’ll buy you a drink. Something fruity, I bet.

Becca sighed and took off her jacket. She hung it over the back of her stool and sat down next to him. She faced away from the bar, debating whether she actually wanted a drink or not. A newer country song was blaring on the jukebox, and she hated it. She thought that a little peace and quiet would be nice.

The front door opened, and she turned to look. The man in the leather jacket slipped in, closing the door behind them. Rain ran from his hat to the black mat in front of the door. He took off the hat and gave it a solid tap, sending the last droplets to the floor. He hung the jacket and hat on the coat rack next to Becca’s umbrella.

Gary had been watching Becca and Max fight, although he couldn’t hear them. When he saw Becca looking toward the door, he followed her gaze and saw the person from the street. He studied the man for a moment, thinking he looked like a movie character. He had a shaggy mustache, but the rest of his head was completely clean shaven. The man looked up and locked eyes with Gary. That went on for several seconds. Then, Gary looked back up at the hockey game he was passively interested in.

You know what, Max? Becca said, getting up. I’m leaving. I don’t feel like being here tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow.

She was furious and could feel the heat rising up her neck. She wanted out of there. Halfway to the door, her left arm got caught in her coat sleeve as she was trying to put it on. She stopped walking to try to fix it, feeling stupid because she was sure everyone was watching her.

Max walked up behind her. His messy, black hair hung down into his face, covering his right eye. At six feet tall and weighing nearly two-hundred and fifty pounds, he loomed over Becca. His mouth was turned down in an ugly frown and had his left hand in a fist. He reached up with his right and grabbed the back of her coat collar. More people turned to look, but no one got up to help.

You’ll leave when I say you can! Max yelled and yanked the coat back.

Luckily, her left arm still wasn’t in the coat, so he only managed to spin her around. She planted her feet and pulled her right arm from the coat. He reached out to grab her arm, but missed. She stepped back and he threw her coat on the floor.

Leave her alone, the man with the shaggy mustache said.

He had almost taken a spot at the bar when he saw Max go toward Becca. He took two steps toward Max, who was almost twice his size. Max turned his attention away from Becca and she went for the door. The ugly frown was replaced with an angry smile, but his eyes swam as they tried to focus on the man through his drunken haze.

Who do you think you are, Baldy? You enjoy going around interfering in personal matters?

I’m nobody, the man said.

Becca pulled the door open. Max turned his attention back to her and lunged toward the door. The mustached man shoved him on the way by. Max stumbled to his left with no hope of regaining his balance. He slammed into the side of a wooden booth and went to one knee. He kept himself from going all the way down by grabbing the back of the bench seat. He gritted his teeth and stood back up.

I’ll be back for you, Max said, pointing at the man.

He stumbled toward the door, favoring his left leg. The mustached man started after him, but one of Max’s friends grabbed him by the arm. The door slammed shut behind Max.

Let him go, man. Have a beer, the friend said. He’s just drunk.

That doesn’t mean he should treat her like that. Let go of my arm.

Mikayla! the friend said to the bartender without taking his eyes off the man. Get us two shots of Jäger.

You think I’m going to drink with you? the man said.

Yes, you are, the friend said, the smile gone from his face. Go to the bar.

The friend gave the mustached man’s arm a tug toward the bar. That drew a glare, but he didn’t fight back.

Here’s to relaxing and minding your own goddamn business, the friend said and took his drink.

The mustached man picked up his drink, looked at it for a moment, and splashed it in the man’s eyes. He followed that with a quick punch to his nose. The friend recoiled back against the stool, reaching up for his face. His shot glass clattered to the ground. Blood began to run out between his fingers.

Fuck!

The mustached man didn’t waste any more time. He rushed over to the coat rack to get his jacket and hat. Then, he ran out the door, slipping on the jacket as he went. Max had a sizable lead, but decided to start circling around to try to find him. He felt like Becca was in serious trouble and she reminded him too much of his daughter.

The wind had picked up and the rain was coming down in sheets. He saw a man about the same build as Max almost a block away to the right on the opposite sidewalk. He went after him.

The man he was pursuing wasn’t Max. Instead, Max had climbed on his motorcycle and gone left. Jen’s house was a mile away and he had one thing on his mind. No sane person would have ridden a bike in that rain or after that many drinks, but he intended to show Becca that he was in charge of their relationship.

Max decided he wasn’t going to be in a rush. Becca would have time to cool down. When he rolled up, she would be ready for a hug and then they’d go home together. He believed things would go exactly how he had planned.

Headlights appeared ahead of Max. His tires kept touching the edge of the center line, so the car swerved away from him at the last second. Its horn wailed as he felt the rush of the wind from the car push him to his right. His t-shirt was soaked, looking like a thick layer of plastic wrap on his chest and back.

He used his left arm to wipe the rain from his eyes when he turned onto Jen’s street. He slowed down to look at the front entrance to the long apartment building. He remembered that she would have to buzz him in and thought Jen might not be as easy to convince as Becca.

He stopped along the curb, but left the engine running. The rain was sobering, and he stared up at what he thought was Jen’s living room window, debating what to do next. The light was on, but the curtain was drawn closed, and he couldn’t see any movement. Then, he remembered the alley behind the building. He and Becca had gone in that way one time when they threw a surprise party for Jen.

He revved the engine twice before driving around back. There were eight cars taking up all the spaces along that end of the building, so he parked his bike along a chain link fence that the neighbors had put up to keep the apartment people out of their yard. He saw a woman’s red strapped sandal resting against the base of the fence three feet ahead of him. It looked familiar. It was definitely something Becca would wear. In fact, he was sure she had been wearing it at the bar.

Dumb bitch probably broke it trying to run inside, he said, squatting to pick it up. The buckle was torn loose. I’ll fix this for you. Then you’ll remember how much you need me and how much I care.

He walked across the alley, heading for the plain white door that was the back entrance to the building. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man walking toward him along the alley from the opposite end of the block. He paused and squinted through the rain at the figure coming steadily toward him. He didn’t really look like the mustached man, but who else would have followed him?

Seriously? Max yelled, his temper flaring again. Can’t you take a fucking hint? Head on back to the bar and I’ll handle you there in a while. I gotta see my girl first.

The man kept coming toward him. Max could tell that he was shorter than the mustached man by quite a bit. He also noticed that he was clean shaven with short, curly hair. As the light from the pole light lit him, he noticed that his skin was dark brown.

Wait, are you trying to rob me, little guy? That’s a laugh, Max said, smiling at the man. He dropped the sandal and squared up to him. You know what, fuck it, give it your best shot. Jen’s not going anywhere, so I’ll just kick your ass, first.

The man said nothing, but continued his steady approach. Max didn’t like it.

Were you just out here waiting for a victim? You picked the wrong guy. I’ll be doing everyone a favor when I take you out.

Max rushed the man, bringing his fist up to deliver a vicious blow. The force of his full body weight would destroy the little man’s face. Once Max had committed to the punch, the man ducked down and away, spinning to shove Max toward the building. His legs got crossed up and he slammed into the post holding the pole light.

Ow. Damn it, Max said, straightening himself. He turned to look at the man, who was simply standing in the center of the alley again. He gave his arm two good swings, trying to lessen the pain. Lucky bastard.

He took three steps toward him, deciding to stay under control this time. The man didn’t move until Max pulled back to drive his fist into his face. As the punch came forward, the man dropped straight down and delivered a kick to Max’s knee on his straightened back leg.

There was a sickening pop as Max’s knee bent the wrong way. He fell forward over the man, who shifted out of his way. The bigger man fell face first, the pain registering in his leg. His fist partially broke his fall, but the skin on his knuckles shredded against the poorly maintained asphalt.

Max tried to get up, but a stabbing sensation in his leg kept him down. He turned to sit on his ass, looking down at his bloody hand. Several small rocks were lodged in the fresh cuts. The rain seemed to be letting up. Max decided he wanted to kill this man.

He scooted over to the fence and used the chain links to pull himself up. He ground his teeth together when a fresh wave of