Succulent Prey

Chapter Thirty-one

After spending nearly an hour in traffic trying to cross the Bay Bridge during rush hour, Detectives Montgomery and

Volario pul ed up in front of the modest upper-middle-class home of Lionel and

Virginia Miles, Joseph Miles's parents. The elder Miles had worked as a construction superintendent for one of the largest homebuilders in America for the last twenty-five years until his recent retirement, and his home had been built by the same company. It was two stories high with a dash stucco finish painted a solemn gray, with decorative stone around the doorway and on the courtyard wal s. An ornate iron gate hung at the entrance. The door was a sturdy handcarved oak that must have cost wel over two thousand dol ars, but he'd likely purchased it at a sizeable company discount.

Detective Volario put on his most endearing smile and knocked on the front door. His warm, friendly smile hit a brick wal. Lionel Miles opened the door and stared down at him as if he were a particularly annoying parasite in need of a good swatting.

It was readily apparent where Joseph

Miles had acquired his height. His father towered over the two detectives. Even with his potbel y and graying hair he looked as if he could give the two of them more than they could handle. His arms were thick with muscles hardened by years of hard labor and his chest was broad. He looked like a professional wrestler or an old-time blacksmith. His face was like a piece of worn leather.

"What the hel do you want?"

"Sir, my name is Detective Volario and this is Detective Montgomery. We need to ask you a few questions about your son."

A scowl creased his face. "Wel, I haven't heard from the boy since he went off to col ege." He began to close the door. Montgomery placed a hand on the door and held it open. The old man pushed against it but the detective held it firm.

"We stil need to talk with you. It'l only take a moment. Do you mind if we come in?" Montgomery stuck a foot in the doorway but the old man moved to block him from entering.

The large black detective and the even larger old man stared eye to eye for a long, tense moment. The air bristled with hostility. Lionel Miles had to have been in his midfifties but he was no less formidable for his years. Veins stood out in his neck and forearms as his body tensed. His eyes bore down on the detective, sizing him up, then suddenly the old man wilted. He turned and stalked back into the house, leaving the front door open.

"So, what do you want to know about my boy?"

The detectives looked at each other and let out a deep sigh of relief. For a moment there they were sure they were going to wind up going toe-to-toe with the big guy, and they weren't exactly confident how such a battle would have turned out.

"Your son may be a material witness in a murder and we need to locate him." The old man's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You mean he's a suspect, don't you?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Why else would two detectives show up on my doorstep wil ing to take me down to find out if the kid is hiding in here or something?"

"We weren't going to-"

"Save it. We both know you were."

"Al right, so is the kid here?"

"I told you before. I haven't heard from him since he left for col ege. We ain't real close."

"Then you won't mind if we search the house?" Volario asked, turning to look around the room.

The living room was sparsely furnished but clean. There was a fifty-two-inch flatscreen TV tucked into a built-in wal unit, along with a surround-sound stereo system and DVD player. Across from that was a leather couch and a plush leather recliner. There were few pictures in the room. No family portraits. Not a single picture of their son. Not so much as a wedding photo. Knives adorned the wal s, though. A samurai sword, a British saber, a Scottish broadsword, an Indian Ghurka. Montgomery took it al in without a word.

"Now if you want to search the place, you'd better get a warrant. Either that or you're going to have to knock me down."

"Relax, big fel a. Just a few more questions and we re on our way.

"You've got my attention. So go ahead and ask."

"You don't seem very surprised that we're here. Any reason you think your son might be involved in something like this?"

"Something like what? You haven't told me what you think he's done yet."

"We found a librarian from his school murdered. Mutilated and sexual y assaulted. He was the last person seen with her before she disappeared."

The detectives were shocked by the expression that burst onto the old man's face. His chest swel ed up and it was obvious that he was struggling to suppress a smile. At first Montgomery was perplexed. Then he realized what he was seeing on the man's face. It was pride.

"No, Officers. There's no reason I would think my boy would be capable of something like that. Joe's soft. He used to wet the bed when he was a kid. He ain't no kil er. Don't let al those muscles fool you. His momma spoiled that kid rotten. I'm surprised he ain't turn out to be one of them faggots you see run-nin' al over town, kissin' and holdin' hands. Now if you excuse me, the missus'l be home from the market anytime now and she's not real fond of visitors."

"Wel, thanks for your cooperation," Volario replied with a look of disappointment.

The detectives walked out of the house and were not surprised when the door slammed shut behind them.

"Man, that guy was creepy as hel. Maybe we should be looking at him for this? Did you see al the knives and shit on his wal s?" Volario's eyes were wide and he was breathing hard. His hands shook as he raised a cigarette to his lips and groped in his pockets for his lighter. He looked as if he'd just been in a gunfight.

"If Joseph Miles is our guy, then I can certainly see where he got it from," Montgomery added, looking over his shoulder.