Jake's Secret Life

Shelly's use of "we" made me hesitate. Part of doing a thorough investigation is to not have pre-drawn conclusions. If she was along, it would be hard to maintain my objectivity with her constantly looking for a reason he hadn't just had an accident.

"Well, we could, but I usually work by myself."

"Uncle Jake was that way too and I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I'll see something and jump to a conclusion that agrees with him being killed. Uncle Jake taught me how a private investigator works. I promise I won't try to make something out of something that isn't there."

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I knew where Jake's office was located, but I'd never been inside. It was on the corner of a block of two-story brick buildings that all shared common walls. Once we walked through the door, I realized it had once been a bank. That wasn't unusual. Most of the buildings in the older part of downtown Nashville aren't used for their original purpose anymore. The stores, banks and other businesses moved out to the suburbs when the residents did. The buildings became re-sale shops, antique shops, pawn shops, and in this case, a private detective's office.

Jake hadn't changed much about the building except to take out the teller's desk. The cracked linoleum flooring was a darker color where it had once sat. There was one office on the side of the main room where the bank manager would have made loans and set up savings accounts.

In that main room were a couple of worn out chairs and a sofa in even worse condition. A coffee pot half full of cold coffee sat on a card table against the back wall, and over that were half a dozen pictures. The only thing that looked remotely new was the plastic tree in a big pot in one corner. The leaves on it had faded to sort of a yellowish brown, and judging by the coating of dust on it, it hadn't been cleaned in years.

It was easy to pick Jake out of the picture of the group of guys in Army fatigues even though I couldn't read the name across the pocket. He was the same tall and lanky guy, though he had a lot more hair in the picture and it was dark brown instead of gray. All the others were pictures of Jake and another guy looking tough with their jungle fatigues, hats and M-16 rifles. Shelly had walked up beside me.

"Uncle Jake was in Vietnam. That's where the pictures were taken. The group of soldiers are the unit he was assigned to, the 5th Special Forces Group. The others are of him with his best friend over there."

I was too young to remember the Vietnam war, but I'd heard about the 5th SFG when I was in Iraq. After Vietnam, the unit had been relocated from Ft. Bragg to Ft. Campbell, just forty odd miles from Nashville. They were known as one of the toughest units in the US Army and in Iraq had done training of the local military as well as infiltration and combat search and rescue missions. No one ever heard exactly what those missions were because they were highly classified, but the unit was decorated multiple times. What I did hear about them is nobody messed around with anybody from the 5th. One of them by himself was more than a match for a couple regular guys, and they tended to stay together in groups of two or more.

"What did Jake do in Vietnam?"

Shelly shrugged.

"I don't know. He never would talk about it. All he'd ever say when I asked him was that he couldn't tell me. I guess it must have been pretty secret, huh?"

"Probably so. In Iraq, the 5th were pretty much invisible unless they were training the local resistance fighters. I heard about them but I never met any that I know of. Neither did anybody else. They were supposed to be a really tight knit group."

"That's the only thing Uncle Jake ever said about them - that they trusted each other with their lives. He came back, so I guess that was true. Hey, would you like to see Uncle Jake's safe?"

A hall on the other side lead back to a bathroom in the rear, and on one wall of that hall was a safe door that must have weighed at least five hundred pounds. It was standing open, probably because Jake either didn't know the combination or was too cheap to hire a locksmith to change it.

The inside of the safe was huge because it ran from the hall to the other side of the building. When Shelly turned on the light, I saw racks down one wall that held a few storage boxes and other stuff, and a row of safety deposit boxes on the other. Shelly tried one of the safety deposit boxes and it opened. She looked inside, then turned back to me.

"It's empty. The last time I was here they all were. The keys are around here somewhere. I told Uncle Jake he should put his files in here since it's fireproof, but he wanted them in his office. That's the one you saw when we came in. If he was working on a case that night, it'll be there."

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Jake's files were as carefully labeled and complete as Shelly had said. Each case was in a separate folder labeled with a case date and short description. In each folder were Jake's notes, any documents he'd copied, and any pictures he'd taken. There was also a copy of his final report and another document that stated the outcome if there was a divorce or an arrest.

By reading his report and the outcome, it would be easy to find a person or persons who might have wanted Jake dead. The problem was Jake had been in business for over twenty years and his files went back that far. It would take a month to go through them all.

Even if I was able to find a few people who thought they'd gotten the short end of the stick, it was unlikely any of them followed through. Jake investigated ordinary people, not criminals, and most ordinary people will get mad at first, but finally accept what happened and get on with life.

Maybe a better way to start was finding out why Jake was out on the lake in the middle of the night. If I could figure out what he was doing out there at midnight, it might lend some credence to the police or it might tell me there really was something else going on. I asked where Jake would keep his current case files.

Shelly went to the desk and pulled out the file drawer on the left-hand side.

"He always kept those in his desk, right here. There are only three."

The first was nothing. Jake had been tracking down a guy who had thirty parking tickets to serve him a subpoena. The guy proved difficult to catch, and Jake had been talking to people to find out where the guy might be. The folder was just full of his interview notes.

The second was more interesting. It was another cheating spouse case much like the one Shelly had told me about, except Jake had followed his target, the wife this time, to a campground on Percy Priest Lake. Evidently she and her lover were into being close to nature, because they slept in a tent. Unfortunately for Jake, the tent was right on the lakeshore with other tents so close by he couldn't get any pictures without looking out of place. That would explain why he was out on his boat that night. He was staking out the tent in hopes of getting some pictures of Mrs. Sheila Shasteen and her lover together.

If he was like me, he'd already have pictures of them arriving at the campsite and setting up the tent, fixing a meal, and all that stuff. He'd know, just like I did, that those pictures wouldn't convince her husband that his wife was getting a little on the side. People may suspect their spouse is cheating, but nearly refuse to believe it unless there is clear evidence the spouse stayed for a significant amount of time alone with the lover.

Proof positive is either a time stamped picture of both going into a hotel room, in this case the tent, and then coming back out together several hours later or the next morning, or a picture that can't be interpreted any other way than they're doing the old mattress mambo. That's what Jake would have been waiting on, either the couple leaving the next morning or a picture showing a lot of bare skin.

I asked Shelly if the police had found a camera on the boat. She shook her head.

"No. They gave me his wallet, his keys, and his clothes, and the marina is holding his car, boat trailer and the boat until I can pick them up, but they never said anything about a camera."

The third folder was also nothing odd. Jake had been watching a guy who claimed to have injured his back at his job as a waiter in one of the upscale restaurants in Nashville. Jake was probably about ready to write his report because he had video of the guy changing the tires on his pickup. He wouldn't have been able to lift them onto the hubs if he was in constant pain like he claimed.

I closed that folder and handed it back to Shelly.

"Let's go get your uncle's car and boat. Maybe they'll tell us something."

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Jake's boat was a bare-bones sixteen foot flat-bottomed aluminum boat with a ten horse outboard. I would look like just somebody's average fishing boat when on the lake and wouldn't cause any suspicions if Jake motored to within camera range. There was a rod and reel laying across the seats, and a gas tank back by the outboard.

Something stuck me as odd then. There was no life jacket in the boat and no boat cushions. It's a federal and state law that any occupant of a boat on the water be wearing a Coast Guard approved personal flotation device and also that any boat sixteen feet or longer have at lease one throwable PFD on board. Usually, that PFD is a boat cushion that doubles as a softer seat on the standard wooden seat of a fishing boat.

Jake would have known the law as well as I did, and wouldn't have been on the lake without both. The park rangers are sometimes around the boat ramps to check for PFD's and if Jake hadn't had both, they wouldn't have let him launch. The same is true if a ranger had spotted him on the water without his PFD's. He'd have been escorted off the lake and issued a ticket. Jake probably wouldn't have cared much about the ticket, but he would have cared about the visibility to any bystanders he'd have gotten. If his target had seen that happening, he'd have had to figure out another way to get the pictures he was after.

If what the police had told Shelly was right and Jack had hit his head and fallen overboard, the life jacket should have kept him from drowning and at least one boat cushion should have still been in the boat. I turned to Shelly.

"Shelly, did the police say anything about Jake wearing a life jacket or life vest?"

"Yes, they did. They said if he'd been wearing one, he probably wouldn't have drowned. It would have kept his head above water until he regained consciousness, because the hit on his head wasn't that bad."

"Did they say if they found a life jacket around the boat?"

"No. I know Uncle Jake had two, because he took me out on the boat once and gave me one to wear. He wore his that day too. I wonder why he wasn't wearing his that night."

"I was wondering the same thing. There was a life vest on the shelf in the safe, but only one. That leads me to believe he took the other one with him, but evidently he wasn't wearing it when he fell overboard. I don't know what that means yet, but I'm starting to think the police didn't get all of the story."

I was starting to feel that way for another reason as well. Many fishing boats have a floor made of wood slats so any water in the boat won't get your feet wet. It is possible to catch a toe or heel between the slats and get off balance. I know because I've done it. That would be an explanation for how Jake went over the side except his boat didn't have a slatted floor. The floor was just the flat aluminum bottom and it was coated with an anti-slip material of some sort. Jake could have tripped on one of the seats if he stood up and was moving around, but he'd probably have fallen down the length of the boat if that's what had happened, not over the side. I needed some more information that I hoped Shelly had.

"Shelly, I know this is a hard thing to think about, but did you see Jake in the morgue?"

"Yes. I had to go make a positive identification."

"Did you see the place he hit his head?"

"Yes. Because of Uncle Jake's phone call, I told the man there I wanted to see it. It was on the side, just above his right ear."

"How big was it."

"I don't know, pretty small, like maybe about as wide as a finger and it had a cut in the middle."

"You're sure it wasn't a wide place?"

"Yes, it was narrow and went from his temple to just behind his ear."

I shook my head.

"Then I don't know what Jake hit, but it wasn't the boat. The sides are pretty wide and would have left a pretty wide mark, not a narrow one unless he hit the corner. The side of the boat also wouldn't curve around the side of his head and behind his ear. I don't see how a man as tall as Jake could do that anyway. If he tripped, he'd just have fallen overboard. He'd have had to bend double to hit his head. I'm not seeing anything else that would leave a mark that narrow either."

"So you don't think it was an accident either?"

"I think Jake didn't hit his head on the boat and I'm almost positive he wouldn't have been on the lake without at least a life vest in the boat somewhere. He would have had a boat cushion to sit on too, but there's neither here and no place for them to be hidden. If Jake had been out here trying to take pictures, he wouldn't have been out here without a camera, but there's no camera to be found. It's possible it went over the side with him, but I always keep my cameras on a strap around my neck so I don't drop them. I'd bet Jake did the same. It should have still been on his body."

"So what do we do now?"

"I'm not saying somebody killed your Uncle, but I don't think things happened like the police told you. Let's go see if anybody at the marina saw him put his boat in."

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The marina operator hadn't seen Jake, but he said he got off at four and I'd have to wait for the afternoon marina operator to come in. I took Shelly to a fast food place for a cup of coffee while we waited. She mixed one little package of creamer into her cup, stirred it for a while, and then took a sip and made a face.

"Ugh...this is really terrible coffee."

"It's better than some I've had. You should try the coffee at a truck stop sometime."

She smiled.

"I have. My ex drove a truck and I used to ride with him sometimes."

I chuckled.

"You don't impress me as a woman who would marry a trucker. I figured you for a woman who'd marry a banker or a doctor."

"Well, that's what my mother thought too, but I was young and knew everything. Billy was handsome and his life sounded exciting. It was too, when I went with him. We saw a lot of country together."

"What put an end to it then?"

"Billy's truck had a sleeper, and I found a half-full box of condoms under the mattress when I was making the bed one day. He didn't need them for me because I was taking care of that, so I figured he had at least one girlfriend. Uncle Jake found out he had three. It hurt to find that out, but not as much as when he laughed and said it was because my boobs were too small and my butt was too big. Anyway, I divorced him a month after that."

"Would he be capable of hurting Jake?"

"I don't think so. Billy liked his women, but he was pretty laid back about everything else. He didn't contest the divorce and gave me everything I asked for. I think he was just as relieved as I was. Besides, that was four years ago. I guess you believe me now if you're asking about Billy."

"Well, the more I think about this, the more it smells. I don't really blame the police. On the surface, it looks cut and dried, but the more I find out, the less likely it seems that Jake just had an accident."

"So we should go tell the police that?"

"No, not yet. All I have is an opinion with no facts. We'll have to dig a lot deeper, I think, to find those facts. Let's start with the afternoon marina guy."

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The guy running the marina in the afternoon was actually a girl about nineteen or twenty. She looked up from the cell phone in her hand, popped her gum, and asked how she could help us. I smiled.

"Well, I hope you can. That boat and car out there, the one you've been holding, do you remember when it came in."

"Sure. He's the guy that drowned about a week ago. I remember him because the guy said I reminded him of his niece. He bought a tank of gas and then put the boat in the lake."

"You didn't happen to notice if he had a life vest and a seat cushion, did you."

"Yeah. I always look because if they don't have them, I'm supposed to remind them it's the law and then tell them I rent vests and seat cushions. He had a vest on and there was a cushion on the seat."

"Do you remember him having anything else in the boat?"

"Well, he had a fishing rod and one of those, oh what do you call that shiny cloth stuff they make gym bags out of...well, anyway, he had one of those tackle boxes made of that stuff."

"The park rangers or police didn't happen to ask you the same questions, did they?"

"No, not to me, but they found the guy in the morning and I wasn't here. They asked Joey that morning when the guy put the boat in the lake. He told me he gave them a copy of the gas receipt. It has the date and time of the sale. He said that was all they seemed to want."

I thanked the girl and told her we'd be taking the boat and car. She said she had to see a release and some identification, so Shelly showed the girl her driver's license and the property release from the police. The girl smiled.

"OK, you're good to go. I take it you were related to him?"

"I'm the niece you reminded Uncle Jake of."

"Oh...I'm so sorry I said that and I'm sorry for your loss. He seemed like a really nice old man."

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Shelly wasn't sure about pulling the boat, so I drove Jake's car and the boat back to his office while Shelly followed me in my car. I thought it a little strange that a white pickup pulled out of the campground parking lot at the same time we did. I couldn't see through the windshield very well because the sun was reflecting off it, but it looked like the driver was a guy. I started getting suspicious when he kept two cars behind Shelly all the way to Jake's office. When Shelly pulled into the parking spaces behind the building the pickup kept going, so I figured he was just going in the same direction.

We went inside the office and Shelly flopped down on the couch and took off her heels.

"The next time I do this, I'm going to wear my running shoes. My feet are about to fall off and we haven't found out anything yet."

I smiled as I handed Shelly the keys to Jake's car.

"We've found out more than you think. We know Jake had a life vest and a seat cushion that somehow disappeared and I'd bet my last dollar that tackle box was really his camera bag. It's gone too, and I don't see how Jake could have taken all that with him when he went over the side. I think somebody took them."

"The person who killed him?"

"Maybe, or it could just have been somebody who found the boat empty and took what was there. I kind of doubt that since it was dark when Jake fell in the lake, and the girl said he had his life vest on when he launched the boat. It could be that he took the vest off for some reason, but I can't figure why he would.

"There's something else that's been bothering me. Percy Priest almost always has a breeze blowing down the lake and because it's an impound lake, there's a weak current. Neither is all that strong but they're there. That's why Jake anchored his boat. If he hadn't, his boat would have floated away from the campground. I can't figure out why his body floated to shore because it should have done the same thing."

"You're thinking somebody put it there so it would be found?"

"Yes, although I don't know why. You'd think if someone killed Jake, they'd want to be a long ways away when his body was found. That's what a pro would do and he'd probably take everything out of the boat to make it look like what the police figured out, that Jake fell down, hit his head and fell overboard without a vest on. It doesn't make sense that Jake was killed by a pro though, unless he got tangled up with drugs somehow. The pros are too expensive for almost anybody outside of somebody selling drugs. They might have wanted him found to teach somebody else a lesson, but I don't see why anybody else would."