Soul Sucker

Investigator John Miller’s POV

Indianapolis, Indiana

Thursday, August 11, 2022

Jordyn Carter was a ghost.

I contacted several of her husband’s friends, but none had a current address. “She said she needed some time away after the funeral,” one woman told me. She had her cellphone number, but it went straight to voice mail. There was only one place that I knew she’d show up at: for the sale of her late husband’s company. I pretended to be a business reporter and got the time and location of the closing from Allied Transportation’s Media Relations office.

I’d spent most of Wednesday trying to find something I could use to delay the insurance payout. Unfortunately, it wasn’t against the law to have zero social media presence or a fuzzy history. I couldn’t bring the other cases in because her age or facial recognition precluded her from doing this before. I briefed Terry Callahan about the lack of progress, and he authorized my flight here to ambush her. “Shake her up,” he told me. “Let her know we are investigating her husband’s death. She’s young, and maybe she will make a mistake.”

It was a long shot, but it led to me being here, parked inside a ramp below the law offices of Johnson, Burns & Leeks downtown. I picked a dark spot with a clear line to the visitor parking reserved for their clients. It wasn’t long before I saw her in the passenger seat of a white Lincoln Navigator. Her lawyer parked and went around to help her down.

Damn, but she was a hot little thing. She was maybe five-foot-two with toned legs like a dancer. The way she filled out that black dress was more like an Onlyfans model than a cheerleader. An angelic face with big tits, wide hips, and a narrow waist? No wonder Michael married her so quickly. “Baby got back,” I whispered as I watched them enter the elevator.

I wouldn’t get anything more from here. I waited for the next elevator, then exited the building on the ground floor. I sat on a bench at the park across the street and set up my gear.

Law offices love showing their power by having conference rooms overlooking the city. It says a lot about their status but shows their ignorance about security. If you want to defeat surveillance, you pick an interior room without windows.

I took the laser device out of my briefcase, setting it inside the planter at my side. A small screen showed the aim point, and the audio went to a Bluetooth earbud. The laser measured the vibrations of the conference room window and converted it to audio. I was listening in before they finished their introductions.

The meeting was straightforward except for two things.

The first was Jordyn’s insistence on a bonus pool for the workers, paid out of her share of the proceeds. That shook my assumption that she was a greedy little bitch, out to squeeze every penny out of her husband’s estate.

The second was wiring the money to a Cayman Islands bank. It wasn’t the kind of move I expected. You had to change your citizenship if you wanted to avoid US taxes and regulations. The Cayman banks wouldn’t help you evade the IRS, as they would still get your banking information for tax purposes via international banking agreements. You were far better off investing the money.

Jordyn didn’t plan to stay in the United States. She had other plans for the money.

The ten-million-dollar policy should be enough to cover her tax bill on the capital gains, though. The sale money would remain intact. Having an overseas bank would make tracing the money more difficult for me. I’d bet a paycheck that the money would be gone in three months, and the trail would be impossible to follow.

When the meeting ended, I returned to my car and watched them come out. I followed them to the hotel, where Jordyn got out. I parked the car and found her sitting in the hotel restaurant.

It was time to shake her confidence a little. “May I join you,” I said with my best smile.

“I’m not interested in men,” she replied dismissively.

“I’m not interested in men, either, so we have that in common.” I held out my hand to her. “This is business, I’m afraid. John Miller, with Manhattan Life Insurance Company.”

“Jordyn, but you already know that,” she said as she reached to shake it. My presence wasn’t enough to make her nervous, as her hand was steady.

Something happened when our fingers touched. Jordyn gripped my hand like she’d been shocked, and her eyes closed as she fought to control her body and emotions. Her face flushed, as did her neck and chest. A squeezing of her thighs and a parting of her lips showed her arousal.

Me? Not so much. In my law enforcement career, I’d learned to trust my gut. When I met someone, I’d often get a feeling about what kind of person they were. Some people were honest and kind, while others were plain evil. It wasn’t the way they looked, either. If I touched them, I knew, and time would prove me right.

Jordyn gave me chills down my back. The exterior was beautiful, but there was something rotten inside. Rotten and dangerous. She was the kind of woman who could kill her husband and pretend to grieve about him.

I was sure of this now.

She didn’t look well. “Miss Carter? Are you all right?”

“My stomach is all messed up, and I skipped breakfast. It was a difficult morning, and I think it is catching up.”

I bet, I thought to myself. If I thought I had the advantage, Jordyn pushed back well.

“You followed me from the office.” Busted. “Let’s see. You’re wearing an off-the-rack suit, a white shirt with a plain tie, and dress shoes with rubber soles. You’re carrying a firearm in a shoulder holster on the left side, but you didn’t tailor the suit to hide it. May I see your identification?”

She took a picture of it with her phone, and I was sure she’d have her people follow it up. “You can’t be too careful. Investigations, huh? You don’t like a Fed, so you’re a former what? NYPD?”

“Well spotted. Boston, actually. I spent most of my time as a Homicide detective before joining Manhattan Life. How did you know?”

“I notice things.”

I asked her questions, hoping to regain the momentum, but Jordyn wasn’t forthcoming. “I’m trying to get an idea of who Michael was.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “No, you’re poking around trying to find a way to deny me the money I’m entitled to after purchasing your policy. You’re wasting your time. I loved Michael very much. I still can’t believe he died just four days into my marriage, and I’m not over it. What is your angle, John? Are you going to say it was suicide? Or are you going right to murder? My lawyer says that’s the only way to fight the claim, so which is it?”

I sat back and raised my hands. “I’m doing my due diligence, that is all. The circumstances of this case raised flags, that’s all.”

“What kind of ‘flags’ does my man dying in his sleep raise?”

“It’s a substantial term life policy, recently purchased, without a clear cause of death,” he said quietly. “That’s all.”

“You can do better than that.”

No, I couldn’t. I had no evidence at all. Suspicions wouldn’t be enough. “I can’t reveal my investigation, Miss Carter.”

“Here’s what I know,” she replied. “Michael bought that policy because of me. He knew I wouldn’t want to run the family business, so he did estate planning like a good husband. My lawyer tells me the check should arrive in a week. If it doesn’t? You’ll hear from him, and it won’t be a fun conversation.” She was intentionally making a scene out of this. “Your boss may hear from him anyway, coming out here to ambush a widow.”

“That was not my intent.”

The waiter came over with our food. “I’ve lost my appetite. Box mine up for me, please? I’ll be leaving shortly.”

“Box mine up as well,” I said as I held out my credit card to him. “I apologize for any grief I’ve caused you. It was not my intention.”

“I’m sorry as well. It’s been a rough time, and I’ve not been sleeping well.” We parted politely, and I went to my car and drove out front. I didn’t know if she had a rental car or would catch a cab, so I parked where I could cover both options.

I followed her to the airport before I lost her at the rental car place.

Damn it all!

I returned mine and went to the terminal, walking through the concourses and looking for her without finding anything. Maybe she rented another car? Or maybe she caught a flight right away? Hell, Jordyn was a millionaire now. She could have hired a private aircraft to take her away.

I knew she was guilty as hell, but I didn’t have a single piece of evidence to prove it. I sat at my gate and got my cellphone out. “Terry? It’s John.”

“How did the trip go?”

“You’ll probably get an angry call from her lawyer. She took a picture of my identification and didn’t appreciate my investigation.” I told him about my impression of her and her evasion of my questions about her background. “My gut tells me she’s dirty.”

“It’s not against the law to be a private individual,” he told me. “If I’m going to hold up tomorrow’s payment, I need something stronger than your gut feelings, John. What do you have?”

“Nothing.”

He let out a sigh. “Come home, John. I’ve got no choice but to approve the payment, and you have more cases to follow up on.”

“What about the previous ones I told you about?”

“Turn them over to the FBI or IRS if you have probable cause a crime has been committed. Otherwise, what can we do? It’s not against the law for someone to disappear, either.”

“I know these cases are connected, Terry.”

“John, we both know there is what we think, and what we can prove. Come home. Hell, give Mary a call. Cathy said you guys hit it off and are perfect for each other.”

“There are things you think, and things you can prove,” I countered. “My private life is just that.”

“Well, don’t leave her hanging. If you’re an asshole, I get to hear about it.”

“She’s a nice lady who deserves some good in her life,” I replied.

“Then be that good thing in her life. You deserve some happiness too.”

I snorted. “Mary’s got a kid, Terry. Every woman I meet is divorced, a single mom, or desperate to get married to anyone with a pulse.”

He didn’t say anything right away. “You’ve been through a lot of shit, John. I know that. I also know you aren’t stupid enough to turn down a good thing when it comes along. It doesn’t have to be Mary. You need to let the past go and get ON with living.”

“Thanks, bud. I’ll see you in the morning.”

While I was waiting, I sent a text to Mary. Flying back home tonight, plans for the weekend?

She replied just before I started boarding. Church Saturday night, showings Saturday and Sunday during the day. Up for dinner Friday?

Sure, when can I pick you up?

She responded with an address. Come at six, I’ll make dinner and Heather is making dessert. Bring some workout clothes.

That was unexpected. Planning some physical activity? 😊

Heather wants you to teach her some MMA moves.

Damn. How to phrase this? She’s not the one I want to grapple with

We’re a package deal. Play it cool and we might go a few rounds 😊

I’ll see you then.

Maybe Terry was right. I could at least give it a try.