some straight answers.”
“Ok, I was here ‘til after four, then I went for a ride, ate a Tommy’s burger around ten then hit the rack,” I said, trying to keep my voice even and calm. Lowrie let out a long sigh. Rubbing his temples he stared at me with his tired eyes.
“We know you went to see Kelly Lovelace after you left the club,” he said. My eyes flicked over to Turaj who looked down, the spineless prick had sold me out.
“What happened to Kelly?” My question was answered with another smack to the head, this one harder.
“Not real good at following directions are you?” Sanchez said. “We got you. Your life is a turd circling the toilet bowl right now and you don’t even know it.”
“What happened to Kelly?” I said, looking Sanchez square in the eyes.
“Here’s a hint, I’m a homicide detective. Help any smart guy?” she said. I looked from her to Lowrie, who simply nodded.
“Should I lawyer up?” I asked him.
“Only if you want to go down to the cop shop, make me fill out a bunch of unnecessary paperwork.” Lowrie said. I liked him. He was just another guy doing a job.
“Ok, straight deal,” I leaned in close to Lowrie, making it clear I was talking to him, not Sanchez. “Kelly called me yesterday from the club. She sounded scared so I told her I’d come get her. When I got here, she was gone. So I went by her crib, but she wasn’t there either. Truth is, I figured it was just stripper drama.”
“What was your relationship to Miss Lovelace?”
“We were friends. Just friends.”
“That’s not what we heard.” Lowrie said with no judgment.
“Yeah, but it’s the truth.”
“Did you wish it was more?” Again no judgment.
“No, in this business chicks are easy, but friends are few and far between… I’ve dealt straight, now will you tell me straight, do you have any idea who did this, or am I the best you got?”
“You’re it, sweetheart,” Sanchez interjected with a smile. “Can you hear those bars closing around you?”
“I’ve been inside, it ain’t no big.” I said, keeping my eyes on Lowrie. “What scares me, is that the asshole who did her is walking around free, and you’ve got nothing to stop him.” And that was it, my interrogation was over. They wrote down my address and phone number and told me not to leave town. Lowrie gave me his card and asked me to call if I thought of anything else. As I was walking out, Sanchez stepped in front of me, she just had to get one more shot in.
“Pack your bags, and get ready for the cell. I know you did it, can’t prove it, yet. But you did it,” she hissed. I didn’t have any snappy comebacks, and I was all out of tough bravado, so I just moved past her and walked out.
The girls were sitting around the club, some on the leopard print couches, some on bar stools, they all looked stunned. Their sadness surprised me. It wasn’t like this was the first time someone they knew had died ugly. Maybe they knew Kelly was different, or maybe it never got any easier no matter how many soldiers you lost. Piper came up to me. Wiping away a tear, she hugged me. “Sorry big man, I know…” Her words drifted off.
“It’s all going to be alright, baby girl.” I said, patting her back. But that was a lie, a whore’s promise. Nothing would be ok, not for me, not for Piper, not for any of us.
CHAPTER 3
When the cops finally left we opened the club. I went through the motions of working my shift. Luckily Tuesdays are dead nights in the flesh game. When I got home I was greeted by the odd feeling that it had snowed in my living room. A thin dusting of white feathers covered every surface. In the center of it all Angel was sleeping, curled in what was left of my down comforter. I didn’t know if I should laugh, cry or boot the pup across the room. I settled on cleaning up the feathers and being thankful she hadn’t crapped on my floor, me being stupid enough to leave her alone for eight hours. From a taco truck I bought a box of carne asada tacos. The spicy meat didn’t seem to dull Angel’s appetite any. Maybe she could stay. Maybe.
The dog farts started around four in the morning, eye watering silent stink bombs. How such a small creature could contain so much foul odor was beyond me. I moved to the living room and left her to sleep happily in the stench. I was miles from sleep long before she smoked me out.
Dry blistering air rattled the leaves on the magnolia tree outside my window. Earthquake weather. Suddenly all the night’s chill was gone. The crickets went silent, their sound replaced by the slapping of tree branches and the rush of air. I knew there would be no more sleep tonight. It’s earthquake weather in the city of angels and no one is at peace.
Three fingers of single malt did little to quiet the choir of condemning voices in my head. My ex-wife had called me a hopeless drunk. But that was bullshit, a little whiskey was all I had some days to keep from dropping into a dark hole I might never climb out of.
I put The Pogues into the stereo. Shane McGowan was rumbling drunkenly about a dirty old town and the axe he was going to make to chop it down. I raised my glass to the speaker, I knew just how he felt.
The winds brought no trembling earth this time, Angelenos had been spared for one more day. By six most of the toxic gasses had escaped the bedroom. I crawled back in next to my pup and drifted off stroking her soft coat. Wednesday started about as bad as possible.
“Hands on the wall, assume the position.” Sanchez wasn’t taking any chances. The detectives had woken me by pounding on the door. She had her gun out and me against the wall before I could say word one. A high-pitched growl came from the bedroom as the puppy charged out. She stopped a few feet from the detective, her hackles up. She looked ready to attack regardless of their gross weight advantage or the gun I was sure Sanchez wouldn’t mind discharging. “Angel!” I snapped, and to my surprise she backed down. Sitting on her rump, she watched us warily but the growling stopped.
“Cute dog,” Sanchez spat.
“Real cute,” her older partner said.
“Strange, we found a dog bowl and puppy chow at Kelly’s apartment, no dog. And here this skell who never went into her place has a new dog.”
“She makes a good point,” Lowrie said to me.
“Owning a dog illegal now?” I said and wished I hadn’t.
“No, but rape murder is.” Sanchez wrenched my arm down and slapped the cuffs on.
At Parker Center they hooked me to a bench next to a Black banger with a swollen eye and crusted blood rimming his left ear. On the ride down they hadn’t told me I was under arrest. They had given me the big silent treatment, hoping to rattle my cage, it was working. For all my tough bullshit, I didn’t think I had another jolt in me.
My pulse was starting to climb when a young uniform took me into a long shallow room and had me line up with six other men, all roughly my size. Facing the mirror I racked my mind, who was was their witness. The old curtain watcher from Kelly’s apartment? Had to be. If she I.D.’d me I was fucked, add that to the fucking mutt and they might have enough to nail me. And that would be it. Judge and jury would take one look at me and my rap sheet and I would take a lifelong fall.
After the line up, I was placed in an interview room with muddy smudged walls that possibly had been white once.
“This could go a lot easier if you’d confess,” Lowrie was sitting across the steel table from me. Sanchez had been left out of the interrogation. My bet was she would bust in if Lowrie’s nice guy act failed.
“I want a lawyer.” I stared coldly at the old cop.
“No, you don’t. Get the lawyers involved and we lose any wiggle room. Why don’t we get our story straight before we go there.”
