Detective Wade Jackson Mystery - 01 - The Sex Club by L. J. Sellers
Authors: L. J. Sellers
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cash.”
“I need to talk with Mr. Fieldstone. Get me on his calendar tomorrow.”
“I can’t. He’s in meetings all day.”
“This is important. I’d like to clear the mayor from this investigation as quickly as possible. Especially before the press gets wind of the connection.”
Mariska sneered at his clumsy threat. “I’ll do what I can.”
Jackson handed her a business card. “Call me with a meet time.”
He left the bar and drove the six blocks back to the police department. Judge Cranston had likely signed the warrant for Grady’s DNA and sent it over by now. Jackson would swab him, then interrogate him again. Casaway had also brought in two other sex offenders who still needed to be questioned. Jessie’s crime scene photos had been processed, and Jackson would use them in the interrogations. Maybe he would catch a break. Sex offenders sometimes had more guilt than your average criminal and would confess their sins when confronted with the visual reminder of what they had done.
Wednesday, October 20, 8:17 p.m.
As Ruth washed the dinner dishes, she strategized about how to add another level of pressure on the abortion clinic workers. Something personal in addition to the explosives.
Ruth fed the cat and decided to start with some motivational letters. Nothing like the fear of God delivered directly to your doorstep.
She wiped the kitchen table, dried her hands, and started down the hall toward her husband’s office. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rachel in the den at the family’s computer. Ruth worried about the time her children spent on the Internet. She had suggested canceling their service, but Sam wouldn’t hear of it. He stayed up late every night posting on his CCA blog.
Ruth stepped into the den. “Hey, sweetie. Is your homework done?”
“Not yet. But I don’t have much, so it won’t take long.”
“Homework first. You know the rules.”
Ruth started to move away, then realized Rachel was making no move to leave the computer. Her daughter was completely ignoring Ruth’s request to do her homework first. She marched over to the desk, grabbed her daughter’s ear, and yanked.
“Owww!” Rachel shot out of the chair. Ruth moved toward the door, pulling Rachel behind her.
“You can let go now,” Rachel said through clenched teeth.
Ruth pinched harder. “Don’t take that tone with me. Are you ready for another whipping?”
Rachel didn’t respond. In a moment, Ruth released her grip. Rachel hurried into her bedroom without looking back. Ruth and Sam had had to re-educate their daughter recently about not arguing with them. It was a lesson both kids had learned early, but shortly after her thirteenth birthday, Rachel had decided to test the policy. Apparently, she was still pushing the boundaries. Ruth would not let her guard down. The Bible was clear about parents’ disciplinary responsibilities to their children. But she was careful to never draw blood or leave scars, the way her parents had.
Ruth considered going back to the den and using the family computer but decided against it. She needed privacy. Sam didn’t like anyone to use his computer, but he would be gone for hours at his men’s Bible study.
Ruth made some peppermint tea and took it into Sam’s office. Crowded bookshelves lined two of the four walls, and a map of the western states covered most of a third. Hundreds of pushpins identified where abortion clinics were located. The ones they knew about, anyway. Abortionists were getting craftier about keeping their whereabouts and identities hidden.
She perched on the edge of her husband’s desk chair and booted up his PC. Ruth opened up a letter template but left the salutation blank, for now. She had the list of recipients in her head, but she wanted to craft the body of the message first.
Dear Sinner,
Planned Parenthood is the work of the devil and you are his pawn. You must repent your sins and stop murdering unborn babies. It is the
“I need to talk with Mr. Fieldstone. Get me on his calendar tomorrow.”
“I can’t. He’s in meetings all day.”
“This is important. I’d like to clear the mayor from this investigation as quickly as possible. Especially before the press gets wind of the connection.”
Mariska sneered at his clumsy threat. “I’ll do what I can.”
Jackson handed her a business card. “Call me with a meet time.”
He left the bar and drove the six blocks back to the police department. Judge Cranston had likely signed the warrant for Grady’s DNA and sent it over by now. Jackson would swab him, then interrogate him again. Casaway had also brought in two other sex offenders who still needed to be questioned. Jessie’s crime scene photos had been processed, and Jackson would use them in the interrogations. Maybe he would catch a break. Sex offenders sometimes had more guilt than your average criminal and would confess their sins when confronted with the visual reminder of what they had done.
Wednesday, October 20, 8:17 p.m.
As Ruth washed the dinner dishes, she strategized about how to add another level of pressure on the abortion clinic workers. Something personal in addition to the explosives.
Ruth fed the cat and decided to start with some motivational letters. Nothing like the fear of God delivered directly to your doorstep.
She wiped the kitchen table, dried her hands, and started down the hall toward her husband’s office. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rachel in the den at the family’s computer. Ruth worried about the time her children spent on the Internet. She had suggested canceling their service, but Sam wouldn’t hear of it. He stayed up late every night posting on his CCA blog.
Ruth stepped into the den. “Hey, sweetie. Is your homework done?”
“Not yet. But I don’t have much, so it won’t take long.”
“Homework first. You know the rules.”
Ruth started to move away, then realized Rachel was making no move to leave the computer. Her daughter was completely ignoring Ruth’s request to do her homework first. She marched over to the desk, grabbed her daughter’s ear, and yanked.
“Owww!” Rachel shot out of the chair. Ruth moved toward the door, pulling Rachel behind her.
“You can let go now,” Rachel said through clenched teeth.
Ruth pinched harder. “Don’t take that tone with me. Are you ready for another whipping?”
Rachel didn’t respond. In a moment, Ruth released her grip. Rachel hurried into her bedroom without looking back. Ruth and Sam had had to re-educate their daughter recently about not arguing with them. It was a lesson both kids had learned early, but shortly after her thirteenth birthday, Rachel had decided to test the policy. Apparently, she was still pushing the boundaries. Ruth would not let her guard down. The Bible was clear about parents’ disciplinary responsibilities to their children. But she was careful to never draw blood or leave scars, the way her parents had.
Ruth considered going back to the den and using the family computer but decided against it. She needed privacy. Sam didn’t like anyone to use his computer, but he would be gone for hours at his men’s Bible study.
Ruth made some peppermint tea and took it into Sam’s office. Crowded bookshelves lined two of the four walls, and a map of the western states covered most of a third. Hundreds of pushpins identified where abortion clinics were located. The ones they knew about, anyway. Abortionists were getting craftier about keeping their whereabouts and identities hidden.
She perched on the edge of her husband’s desk chair and booted up his PC. Ruth opened up a letter template but left the salutation blank, for now. She had the list of recipients in her head, but she wanted to craft the body of the message first.
Dear Sinner,
Planned Parenthood is the work of the devil and you are his pawn. You must repent your sins and stop murdering unborn babies. It is the
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