The Ties That Bind
"Come on," Davis barked, before Bass had even finished unpacking the box that held his office supplies, "We've got someplace to be."
With a sigh, Bass tossed the pen in his hand aside. Grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair, he reluctantly trudged after his boss.
As they made their way through Jasper, every turn brought back another memory that Bass had desperately tried to forget over the last ten years. Dead family, knocked up girlfriend that gave the kid away for adoption without so much as a 'by the way,' a best friend that he pushed away when he needed him most.
So mired down in his thoughts, he was startled when Davis pulled up to the curb of a house in one of the newer multi-million dollar neighborhoods and got out. Lighting a cigarette, Davis blew out a lung full of smoke as he leaned against the car door.
Pushing his door open, Bass exited the vehicle waving his arm in the direction of the gated mansion in front to them. "What are we doing here?"
"Funeral today. Thought we'd pay our respects." Davis answered as the gates opened and a dark sedan came rolling slowly down the drive. It stopped for a moment at the gates and then swung wide, the back door pulling even with them.
The rear window lowered, revealing a woman in her twenties. Bass quickly took note of everything from the honey-gold hair, pulled back into a classic chignon, to the sleek black pantsuit that probably cost more than his monthly salary.
"Chief Davis, to what do I owe this visit?"
"Just wanted to stop by and express my condolences on the death of your father, Ms. Matheson. This is Detective Monroe, he'll be taking over your father's murder case."
Even though the woman wore dark glasses, Bass could feel her eyes raking him from head to toe, accessing his threat level.
"If it's alright, I thought we'd follow you on over to the cemetery. We certainly wouldn't want anything to happen to you before made your official statement."
"Of course, Chief Davis." The woman said, taking a cigarette from a slim gold case. "I'll be sure to relay your condolences to my Uncle."
Tapping on the seat in front of her, the window began rolling up as the car continued on its way down the street.
"Matheson?" Bass asked, his breakfast from the greasy spoon near the station threatening to reappear. "You didn't say anything about me taking on this case when you hired me."
"Fresh eyes and all that. Besides, what do you care. It's just another case. I'll give you the files when we get back to the office, but I'll give you the condensed version on the way." Davis replied climbing back in the car, Bass circling the vehicle to join him.
"That was Charlotte Matheson, heiress to the Matheson Crime Family. Her younger brother, Daniel, died as a toddler. Her mother, Rachel, has been dead about eight years now, body burnt to a crisp in a lab explosion. There were whispers of an affair circulating for a few weeks before her death. The family patriarch, Benjamin, was gunned down in front of his office building three days ago. Rumor has it that his brother, Miles, is not only flying in for the funeral today, but will be assuming immediate control over the family, per Charlotte's request."
Bass swallowed back the bile beginning to flood his mouth. "Miles?"
"Miles 'The Butcher of Baltimore' Matheson. The Matheson's have slipped through every net we've tossed out there. Haven't been able to pin a damn thing on them in the ten years I've been here. Now, the Neville's on the other hand," he punctuated with a whistle. "That family is a hot mess. Honestly, I'm not sure how they've even survived. What I do know is that If the Neville's had anything to do with Benjamin Matheson's death, this whole city will become a war zone. Ain't nobody gonna be safe."
Rubbing a hand over his mouth, Bass turned his head to stare out the window as they made their way slowly through the cemetery. He knew that Old Man Matheson had connections, but not to this extent.
He had no idea that by moving back to his hometown, he had inadvertently dropped himself into the beginnings of a mob war. A mob war that included his oldest friend.
Parking the car, they watched as the door of a solid white Mercedes opened, several large men surrounding its passenger before making their way to the sedan carrying Charlotte Matheson.
Her door opened and she stepped out, directly into the arms of her Uncle. Charlotte's hand lay intimately against her Uncle's chest as Miles cradled the back of her head. Bass could see her lips moving next to his ear seconds before Miles lifted his head and looked right at him.
Miles stared a moment or two longer before he wrapped an arm around Charlotte's shoulders and escorted her across the cemetery to her father's waiting casket, their bodyguards falling in around them.
"You see enough?" Davis asked, putting his hand on the door handle.
"Yeah, I've seen enough." Bass answered looking back at Miles knowing that he'd be seeing him again soon.