16-10-2026, 02:15 PM
Jacksonville, while a wonderful place to live and no Detroit, was definitely the murder capital of the Sunshine State. I never had quite figured out how we could put Miami in the shade, murder wise, but my hometown had racked up more murders than any other metropolitan area. Of course, as a consolidated county we were a hell of a lot bigger geographically than most other major cities, but still, we were a pretty violent bunch.
Anyway, two homicides in a day was a pretty active tally, but there had been plenty worse since I’d been with the SA. Why was Martin calling me up, on my off time, about one murder?
“You get any of the details?”
“No, I heard we didn’t have an ID and this has been a busy day. I figured I’d hear about it sooner or later.”
“We put the clamps on this one early and we’ve been keeping quiet about it so we could do some checking before we released anything. The car was in a wooded lot behind that Wal-Mart shopping center, the one that hasn’t been developed yet. Some kids skipping college looked in it, then freaked and called their parents.”
“What was in it?”
“A dead guy, in his 30s, maybe early 40s. Hispanic, not badly dressed. The ME says he was probably dead a couple of days. He was more than likely killed elsewhere - then the body and the car were dumped there last night.”
“They come up with a cause of death?”
“The ME came up with a couple of contenders, but probably having his head sawed off didn’t help.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“Not for that poor bastard anyway, They cut his head off and when they dumped the car they laid him down in the seat and put his head in the seat beside the body. Next to the plastic bag where they put his hands after they sawed them off.”
“Makes it sound like it wasn’t a run of the mill carjacking or robbery, definitely not somebody pissing off somebody else’s husband or boyfriend.”
“No, this was an outside job, a professional job.” “How do you know?”
“We had to go through the feds and then the Mexican federal security officer to get an ID, but we found out he was Cartel muscle. He worked with a partner we haven’t
found, but he’ll probably be fished out of the St. Johns, if the body ever turns up.”
“Cartel? THE Cartel.”
“Yeah, the Cartel whose Mendoza is going to be tried somewhere, if the feds can ever find a place to do it.”
I began to get a very bad feeling.
“Why did you have a cop pull me over to tell me this?”
“When we had the car searched, we found some bags with belongings in them. A couple of guns, some drug paraphernalia and some cocaine, apparently for recreational use, some cameras...and some photos.”
“What kind of photos.”
“We weren’t sure at first. There were some photos that appeared to have been taken at a college, and headshots of a kid. Then we found photos taken with a telephoto lens of the same kid, going to college, going around the college campus, getting into a private car. That’s what tipped us off.”
“Who was the kid?”
“We didn’t know who the kid was until we got a clear shot of the woman picking him up after college.”
“Who was he?”
“The woman picking him up was your ex-wife, Debbie. The boy was your son.”
He must have said something but I didn’t hear him. It was as if I standing at the far end of a very long, dark tunnel. I saw BJ, but I didn’t see him as the gangly adolescent he was. No, I saw him as a one-year-old toddler taking his first steps, holding onto a glass coffee table as he launched himself across the couple of feet between him and Debbie’s waiting arms. I saw her take him into her arms and I wished then with everything in me that my father could have seen him for even an instant.
“Mr. Maitland...”
“You can’t reach Debbie?”
“Sorry no, we just started 15 or 20 minutes ago. She could be shopping and left her phone behind, or in the shower. It could be anything.”
I felt a sudden sharp pain in my chest. I knew it was psychosomatic. I’ve been afraid in my life, but I knew that any fear I’d ever experienced in my life was only the palest shadow of the emotion that was beginning to build in me. It was like looking out to sea and watching a tsunami build strength as it approached. I knew I had to start moving or I’d be paralyzed.
“I’m headed for my house, Martin. I’ll meet the units there. Send your guys and tell them to kill any son of a bitch that even looks suspicious to them anywhere around there.”
I clicked off and told the young deputy, “I’m going to be breaking every speed law you ever heard of. Give me a spare flasher and get behind me with your siren going.”
Thirty seconds later a blue light was flashing on the Escalade. I was hitting 60 going on 90 and on the way home – Debbie’s home – with a cop wailing behind me. As I drove one-handed, I hit her number on the cell. It rang endlessly...!
I gave up and dialed Roy Bascomb’s home phone. It ran four times and then Cathy picked up.
“Where is she?”
Anyway, two homicides in a day was a pretty active tally, but there had been plenty worse since I’d been with the SA. Why was Martin calling me up, on my off time, about one murder?
“You get any of the details?”
“No, I heard we didn’t have an ID and this has been a busy day. I figured I’d hear about it sooner or later.”
“We put the clamps on this one early and we’ve been keeping quiet about it so we could do some checking before we released anything. The car was in a wooded lot behind that Wal-Mart shopping center, the one that hasn’t been developed yet. Some kids skipping college looked in it, then freaked and called their parents.”
“What was in it?”
“A dead guy, in his 30s, maybe early 40s. Hispanic, not badly dressed. The ME says he was probably dead a couple of days. He was more than likely killed elsewhere - then the body and the car were dumped there last night.”
“They come up with a cause of death?”
“The ME came up with a couple of contenders, but probably having his head sawed off didn’t help.”
“What?”
“He had a couple of bullet holes in him, and they’d tortured the hell out of him, but the ME figures he was still alive when they took his head off. Or at least started the process.”“That doesn’t sound good.”
“Not for that poor bastard anyway, They cut his head off and when they dumped the car they laid him down in the seat and put his head in the seat beside the body. Next to the plastic bag where they put his hands after they sawed them off.”
“Makes it sound like it wasn’t a run of the mill carjacking or robbery, definitely not somebody pissing off somebody else’s husband or boyfriend.”
“No, this was an outside job, a professional job.” “How do you know?”
“We had to go through the feds and then the Mexican federal security officer to get an ID, but we found out he was Cartel muscle. He worked with a partner we haven’t
found, but he’ll probably be fished out of the St. Johns, if the body ever turns up.”
“Cartel? THE Cartel.”
“Yeah, the Cartel whose Mendoza is going to be tried somewhere, if the feds can ever find a place to do it.”
I began to get a very bad feeling.
“Why did you have a cop pull me over to tell me this?”
“When we had the car searched, we found some bags with belongings in them. A couple of guns, some drug paraphernalia and some cocaine, apparently for recreational use, some cameras...and some photos.”
“What kind of photos.”
“We weren’t sure at first. There were some photos that appeared to have been taken at a college, and headshots of a kid. Then we found photos taken with a telephoto lens of the same kid, going to college, going around the college campus, getting into a private car. That’s what tipped us off.”
“Who was the kid?”
“We didn’t know who the kid was until we got a clear shot of the woman picking him up after college.”
“Who was he?”
“The woman picking him up was your ex-wife, Debbie. The boy was your son.”
He must have said something but I didn’t hear him. It was as if I standing at the far end of a very long, dark tunnel. I saw BJ, but I didn’t see him as the gangly adolescent he was. No, I saw him as a one-year-old toddler taking his first steps, holding onto a glass coffee table as he launched himself across the couple of feet between him and Debbie’s waiting arms. I saw her take him into her arms and I wished then with everything in me that my father could have seen him for even an instant.
“Mr. Maitland...”
The young cop pushed my arm. “Are you alright?”
I ignored him and listened to Martin on the cell.
“... one of our detectives who had been at a baseball game with his son when
you were there with your son recognized him. As soon as we knew, we tried to call you but you weren’t answering your phone. We tried to call Ms. Bascomb, but she had left her office and we can’t reach her. We don’t have numbers for your kids so we’ve got cruisers headed to your house right now.”“You can’t reach Debbie?”
“Sorry no, we just started 15 or 20 minutes ago. She could be shopping and left her phone behind, or in the shower. It could be anything.”
I felt a sudden sharp pain in my chest. I knew it was psychosomatic. I’ve been afraid in my life, but I knew that any fear I’d ever experienced in my life was only the palest shadow of the emotion that was beginning to build in me. It was like looking out to sea and watching a tsunami build strength as it approached. I knew I had to start moving or I’d be paralyzed.
“I’m headed for my house, Martin. I’ll meet the units there. Send your guys and tell them to kill any son of a bitch that even looks suspicious to them anywhere around there.”
I clicked off and told the young deputy, “I’m going to be breaking every speed law you ever heard of. Give me a spare flasher and get behind me with your siren going.”
Thirty seconds later a blue light was flashing on the Escalade. I was hitting 60 going on 90 and on the way home – Debbie’s home – with a cop wailing behind me. As I drove one-handed, I hit her number on the cell. It rang endlessly...!
I gave up and dialed Roy Bascomb’s home phone. It ran four times and then Cathy picked up.
“Hello.”
“Cathy is Kelly there?” “Bill? Bill, what is it?” “Cathy, is Kelly there?” “No.”“Where is she?”
“I think....I think she had a date. She wrote down a number for a girlfriend’s house. They were going to meet their boyfriends there and go out to a party.”
“Call the number, Cathy, NOW! Tell Kelly there’s an emergency. She needs to get back to you. Don’t let her tell you no, make her come back...NOW!”
“But...okay - but what do I tell her.”
“Don’t tell her anything. Just tell her to get back there. I’ll explain later. It’s an emergency and ask her if she has any idea where BJ is. Is Roy there?”
A moment later:
“Bill? What’s going on?” “Roy, do you have a gun?” There was a silence.
“Yes. I’ve got a .38 I always keep in my bedroom.”
“Get it out and go get Kelly if she needs a ride home. Make her come home. Call the cops. Tell them you’re my father-in-law and tell them they need to send some units to your place. Keep the place locked until you see uniforms, and don’t let them in until you see ID. And Roy, if anyone else shows up and tries to come in, kill them. Don’t warn them, don’t talk to them. Shoot them.”Like, Comment and Give Rating.