Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 01 - Sugar And Spice and Not So Nice (9 page)

I walked over to the bar and ordered a Morgan Coke. Everyone else had a drink; I figured I should too to avoid arousing suspicion. I accepted the drink graciously and continued my wandering. No sign of Detective Reiss. I glanced at my watch. Half past midnight. According to Rachel, he should have been here for half an hour already.

“Where is he?” I asked Rachel.

“I don’t know. He should be here,” said Rachel.

We split up. Rachel searched the VIP section, while I meandered around the main floor. Still no sign of him.

“Hey!” yelled Rachel, getting my attention. She waved me over. “He’s in here.”

I peeked through the curtain she held out. Detective Reiss sat in the room on a cushy chair. His unbuttoned shirt showed off his hairy chest. He seemed to be enjoying the pleasure of the woman giving him a lap dance. “Nice to know what those who swear to protect and serve do in their down time,” I whispered.

“Yeah, he’s really broken up,” said Rachel.

I spotted an untouched shot of tequila. “Distract the bouncer,” I told Rachel. She vanished. I peered over at the bouncer who suddenly seemed be bothered by an unseen assailant. Chuckling to myself, I drank the tequila and stumbled into the private room.

I tripped over my own feet and wobbled, pretending to be drunk. “What’s all the fuss in here?” I slurred. I hoped my performance was convincing.

Everyone stared at me. I stumbled around some more until I practically fell into Reiss’ lap. “I know you,” I said. “You’re that guy that handled that dead girl’s murder.”

“Someone get rid of her please,” said Detective Reiss.

“Yeah, it was you all right,” I continued. “Some think you didn’t handle it right, but that’s not true is it?” I leaned in close, letting my alcohol breath overwhelm him. “It’s good to know you’re doing so well. especially since, you’re the one that killed Rachel.”

Detective Reiss stared at me. I studied his features for any sign of recognition at her name. His brow flickered for just a moment before he controlled himself. “I think you’ve had too much to drink,” he said.

“That I have,” I blurted. “You think you got away with it, but it’s only a matter of time until some piece of evidence shows up. He killed her!” I twirled in a circle to make my drunk act appear complete. In hindsight, I might have overdone it. I also hadn’t thought it all the way through.

Detective Reiss stood up and approached me. Instantly, I knew I had to get out of there. I edged toward the exit.

“What’s your hurry?” said Reiss. “You look like a reasonable girl. And the fun is just starting.” His eyes wandered up and down my body. I knew he undressed me with them. I inched closer to the exit.

Reiss lunged and grabbed my arm tightly. His grip told me that I was going nowhere.

“There you are,” said a female voice as a woman in tight leather burst into the room. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She noticed Reiss’ grip on my arm. “Hey, pal, get your hands off my woman.”

Reiss reluctantly let go. “You might want to keep a better eye on your girlfriend.”

“That’s between me and her,” said the woman, waving her curly blonde locks. “Come on, babe,” she said to me.

I didn’t argue.

“Take your slut and stay out of here,” said Reiss. “And remind her to keep her mouth shut, before someone shuts it for her.”

I had had it. I could take a few insults, but calling me a slut was the last straw. I don’ know why I did it; if it was the alcohol, or Rachel’s influence. I whirled around, raised my fist, and plowed it right into Reiss’ nose. I felt the bones break and warm blood ooze over my fist.

The woman who saved me stared at me in shock. She seized my wrist and hauled me to the doorway. We found it blocked by a bouncer.

“Let us through,” she said, “or you can explain to Tiny why we’re late.”

That had the desired effect. Tiny must have had quite a reputation. The man scooted away from the door and we entered the main part of the bar.

We remained silent as the woman pulled me through the building and to another secluded room. Inside, sat Tiny and his pals, plus a few women. These girls were all dressed in tight leather and knee high boots. No strippers were present.

“I got her,” said the woman. She released my wrist and planted a huge kiss on Tiny’s lips.

“Mel,” said Tiny, “meet my girl Elise. I noticed you go into the cop’s room so I sent her in to get you out.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“I didn’t know you liked these places,” Tiny said.

“I don’t,” I replied. “I was following someone.”

One of Tiny’s pals gave me a seat. “Explain,” said Tiny.

I took a deep breath. “You all know that girl Rachel that was murdered last year.”

They nodded in affirmation.

“I know who killed her. It was Detective Reiss. I had evidence that connected him to her murder, but before I could get it to the cops, someone broke into my place and stole it. I found out that he likes to hang out here, so I followed him. I was hoping that I could somehow get him to screw up and pin him for her murder.”

“So that’s why you went in there,” said Elise. “Girl, you’ve watched too many cop dramas.”

“Well, I might not have thought it all the way through,” I admitted.

“You certain he did it?” asked Tiny.

“I know he did,” I replied.

Just then, Rachel showed up. Leave it to her to just appear when it was inconvenient. “What happened to you?” she demanded.

“Rachel,” I replied, “where were you? I could have used you in there! And you’ve got to quit popping in without warning. I mean really—” I stopped speaking when I realized everyone stared at me as though I had lost my mind. “Did I happen to mention that I can talk to ghosts?”

“I think you had one too many,” said Elise, grabbing some water.

Knowing where this was headed, Rachel picked up a bottle of beer and handed it to Tiny. Everyone watched in awe as the bottle appeared to be moving by itself.

“Here you go,” said Rachel as she handed him the beer.

Tiny jumped a bit. “You’re for real,” he said. “My Nana was like you. Said she could see things that no one else could.”

“Is that Rachel?” asked one of Tiny’s friends.

“Yes,” I replied. “She showed up and told me who killed her. She even helped me find the missing proof, but someone else must have known about it too.”

“I hate cops,” said Tiny, “but I especially hate dirty cops. That Reiss character comes in here all the time for a lap dance and something more. No one goes in there. Being a cop he can make anyone’s life hell.”

“How do you plan to prove his guilt?” asked Elise.

“I was hoping to shock him into a confession.” After I spoke, I realized how stupid my words sounded. As a seasoned detective, he’d never fall for that. “I know it sounds dumb, but at this point, the only way to convict him is to get a confession.”

“You’re probably right,” said Tiny. “Unfortunately, that might be difficult.”

“That guy burns me up,” said Sombrero. “Always has something weird going on.”

“He steals stuff from the evidence locker at the station,” I said. “I saw him do it. My guess is drugs. I caught him and a college professor exchanging packages. And I found drugs in the professor’s office.”

Tiny raised his eyebrows. “What’d you do? Break in?”

My face reddened in embarrassment. In my attempt to prove someone’s guilt for murder, I ended up breaking a few laws myself. “Yeah,” I said. “And I snuck into the police station and followed Reiss around.”

Tiny roared with laughter. “You got guts!”

“Who’s the professor?” asked Elise.

“Vincent,” I replied, “The guy’s a creep. He tried to force himself on me a couple of times.”

I heard knuckles crack. Tiny’s face contorted in anger. He meant it when he said no one messed with his friends. “Oh, he did? Boys, I think it’s time we go to school and get some education.”

Tiny’s friends all smiled. They understood what he meant. I did too, though I didn’t want to know about it.

“Here,” Tiny tossed me an onion. “I think it’s time you head home. This ain’t your kind of party. And the cop will be here for a while.”

I thanked everyone and left the building. Despite the cold night air, I relished it. It felt wonderful to get out of that stifling black hole. I breathed deeply, absorbing the fresh air.

I quickly found my car and pulled out onto the highway. Time to head home and to bed. I kept my speed under the limit and made certain not to swerve. I only had the one shot, but I didn’t want to get pulled over, regardless. Unfortunately, life had another plan.

Flashing red and blue lights appeared in my rear view mirror. Oh no, I thought. A siren sounded, telling me that I was the one the cop was after. Mumbling a few choice words under my breath, I pulled to the side of the road.

“Quick!” said Rachel. “Eat the onion.”

“What?” I said.

Rachel shoved the onion in my mouth, forcing me to take a bite out of it. I practically choked as I chewed and swallowed it. Rachel tossed the onion under the seat.

A tap sounded on my window. I rolled it down. “May I help you, officer?” I asked.

The patrolman pulled back a bit after getting a whiff of my onion breath. Did anyone really think eating an onion would fool the cops?

Another officer appeared at the passenger side window. He shined a light inside. A feeling of dread encompassed me.

“Ma’am, you mind telling me where you are headed?” said the officer by my window.

“Home,” I replied. “Don’t you want my license and registration?” I thought their manner was odd. Usually, when you get a ticket they asked to see your registration, insurance, and license.

“Please step out of the car,” said the cop.

“Why?” I asked.

“Ma’am, please step out of the car,” repeated the officer.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the car. “Mind telling me what is going on?” I know you shouldn’t get confrontational with a patrolman, but something didn’t seem right.

“Put your hands on the car,” said the officer.

“Look,” I said, “I have a right to know what is going on and why you pulled me over.”

“Is this your car?” asked the second officer.

“Yes,” I replied.

“You do realize that it was reported stolen,” said the first cop.

“That’s impossible,” I said. “It’s my car and I never reported it stolen.”

“That remains to be seen,” said the first officer.

“Look,” I said, “My ID is in the car. The registration and proof of insurance is in the glove compartment. I can prove to you that this is my car.”

“Put your hands on the hood of the car,” said the first officer.

“Ma’am,” said the second cop, “please put your hands on the car, or we’ll have to add resisting arrest.”

Reluctantly, I put my hands on the car and allowed the officers to handcuff me. Before I knew it, they led me to the patrol car and stuck me in the back. Now I was being arrested for stealing my own car. Something wasn’t right and I knew who was responsible for my car being reported stolen.

The officer that had been at my window opened the door to get in. His hat flew off his head and rolled down the road. I knew Rachel had done it. She laughed uncontrollably.

I watched as the guy walked over to pick up his hat. Rachel kicked it and sent it down the road again. Despite my glum mood, I did find it funny.

“Come on!” yelled the second officer,.“Just grab your hat and let’s go.”

Rachel tired of her fun and allowed the man to get his hat. He got in the car and we were off just as another patrol car showed up with a tow truck.

The ride to the police station went quickly. I spent the time wondering what I was going to do. Rachel appeared next to me. “Rachel,” I whispered, hoping the cops didn’t hear me, “I need you to go back to the apartment. Now isn’t the time to be talking to a ghost.”

She agreed and vanished.

The car stopped at the station. One of the officers opened the door to the back and hauled me out. There was no way I’d get out by myself with my hands behind my back. The officer placed his hand around my arm and guided me into the building. The station suddenly lost all its charm now that I was being brought in on suspicion of being a car thief.

The officer led me through the lobby. I filled out paperwork and they took my prints. They also took my picture. The vain side of me hoped I looked good. Stupid, I know. After about twenty minutes of being booked, I was led to an interrogation room.

“Don’t I get a phone call?” I asked the officer taking me to the room.

He grunted in response.

“Miss Summers.” I turned toward the voice. Detective Reiss smiled at me. It was not one of those nice to see you grins.

“No!” I yelled, pulling away. “I don’t want to be questioned by him!”

The officer holding my arm resisted my struggles, pulling me into the room.

“No!” I screamed. “Not him! I’ll talk to anyone, but him.” I twisted and turned, trying to get away. I know it didn’t help my image, but I had a bad feeling about all of this. “Let me go!”