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AliNovel > Junkyard Jones and The Lake House > 11 Oclock on the Dot

11 Oclock on the Dot

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    "11 o''clock on the dot," Jones stated aloud to the clock the very second he entered his motel room. "It is time to rest … time to sleep. Junkyard Jones is on another mission" Jones found great joy in talking to himself whenever he was tired. Something about the sound of his own voice kept him awake for a bit longer. Maybe, it was his strong determination to not go crazy that motivated the soliloquy. Jones wanted to check the score of the game and confirm his winnings, but that would have to wait till morning. The bookie seemed reliable enough, but anyone claiming to know the people rigging a sports match could not be the most trust worthy man alive. Any fear of Jones'' sure win was hushed out by the bed was calling his name loudly. The pillow got into the action and professed her love for the back of his head.


    Jones rarely dreamt. He was more inclined to reflect on the events of the day prior and then gently fall into a slumber. Only when he began a holiday would he expect himself to dream. Today was no exception to the regular habit. Despite expectation that morning, the holiday had not yet begun. Something was bothering him about the situation. A country club full of very wealthy people and the manager happened to be a sleazeball ogling his client''s daughter. The character assessment of the manager  reeked of rudimentary deduction on the part of the father. Her describing the manager as a sleazeball could have been the product of a fight the two had. Sometimes first impressions are held on too long and the father could have been the recipient of witnessing an unfortunate circumstance. Labeling the manager as a sleazeball revealed to Jones that the relationship between him and Claudia was something more than professional.


    The nuances of relationships were generally not of interest of the police to people who died near places with reputations. Jones had learned as much when he wandered down to Acapulco for a month. There is no motivation for there to be an open investigation near esteemed establishments. Especially when the cause of death is so readily apparent the police will not hesitate to close the case. Anything for a reporter to not be able to form a narrative around a death was the excuse a more honest cop in that situation would give. The corrupt would not bother to say anything more justifying their actions as protocol.


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    In the case down in Mexico, Jones dealt with the corrupt side of things. The most he was ever able to get out of the police down there was an officer offering the explanation that "Murder of one''s self is a tragedy, but not a crime." The private eye was almost pushed to the third degree himself at that very moment. The situation begged investigation, but no one was willing to step out of line. The chagrin caused by this prior unresolved death was partially the motivation for Jones to look into Claudia''s case with such fervor. Although his desire to solve the case was not yet totally apparent to the outside world due to his exhaustion, he felt a need to make things right.


    While making the final adjustments to his sleeping position, Jones continued to think about the situation he was now in. The Lake House was a reputed establishment. Enough so that people on the coast were well aware of the extravaganza that took place there. This fact really meant something to Jones. The coast was too often a world that was only amused with itself. This was a notable exception being made even if it was partially due to all of the celebrity that managed to gather there. This was a five star locale and celebrities were known to be the almost exclusive patrons of the club. Celebrity worshipers would certainly feel faint walking through their cultural epicenter.


    The galas Jones mentioned to Gary on the phone were the real social deals, or ordeals depending on who you ask. Not just money could gain you access to those events. Although it certainly helped, the prestige was something the establishment could not afford to compromise. Each guest was somebody who the masses would feel content living their lives vicariously through.
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