by Drew Blank
“I think his uniform has Velcro fasteners,” Twisty joked as she popped a cocktail cherry in her mouth from the garnish bar.
“Drew!” DeeDee had noticed me from the other end of the lounge.
“Oh dammit,” I whispered to Twisty. “What the hell does she want? I haven’t even started my shift.”
“Drew,” she advanced, calling my name again.
“Yes, DeeDee?” It was impossible for me to not sound condescending when addressing her.
“There are some gentlemen in the conference room that would like to speak with you.”
“Some gentlemen?” I repeated. “You mean police officers?”
“I am not at liberty to discuss the nature of the meeting.” I had no idea where Tully’s kept their handbook on handling random situations, but I believe DeeDee knew how to handle each one to the letter.
“They want me right now?”
“Yes. They requested you personally.”
“Wow. How special. You think I’ll get strip searched?” I glanced over to Twisty to get a reaction.
“That kind of conversation is totally inappropriate in the workplace,” Twisty jokingly chastised me.
“I agree. Thank you Chris…” DeeDee stopped herself mid-sentence when it occurred to her she was being mocked. “Just get to the conference room.”
“Yes ma’am.” I saluted DeeDee and kicked my heels together twice. Spinning around, I blew them both a kiss and exited the service bar.
I hadn’t seen Dom in over two weeks, so this was a welcome excuse to socialize for a while. When he became a cop I didn’t get the chance to hang out with him as regularly as I was used to. We would meet for lunch a few times a month, mostly to discuss how disenchanted he had become with the legal system, law enforcement in particular. Dom joined the force in the hopes he could make a difference. He wanted to fix up the city one case at a time. It was not long before he realized he was the only honest cop working in his particular precinct and as long as he played by the rules he would be forever ridiculed by his fellow officers and, more than likely, never see a promotion past patrolman. There were many times he considered packing it in and giving up, but he always stuck it out, hoping someday his chance to save the world would come. I respected him for his optimism no matter how blind or delusional it was.
The conference room was downstairs, next door to the manager’s office. It was most commonly used for training classes or manager meetings, but today it was a make-shift interrogation room. As I made my way down the steps I began to feel the same chill that ran up my spine when I rode into the parking lot that day.
I had to convince myself to relax. If they knew anything they wouldn’t be questioning everyone. They just needed to talk to me because I was one of the last ones to leave the restaurant. No matter how much I tried to reassure myself, I was still a bit freaked out.
A knock on the closed door of the conference room was answered by a booming “Who is it?”
“It’s Drew Blank,” I responded.
“Come in,” The unfamiliar voice called back.
Pushing the door open I was greeted by an arm around my throat, which was followed very quickly by another hand pushing my face into the conference room table. As my hands were forcibly yanked behind my back, I heard someone reading me my rights. The only view I had was of the fake mahogany design laminated to the table my head was quickly becoming one with. All I could feel was the burning pain coming from the freshly stitched wound on my chest as it got pounded against the wood. Voices in the room all fused into one muffled roar as the reality of the situation came rushing into me.
I am a fighter by nature. While I will rarely start a fight, I have been known to finish most of them. However, fighting the police is just a stupid idea and I knew that. There was no doubt I could have wrestled myself loose and probably incapacitated everyone in the room long enough to run free. But then what? Move to another state and never see Moxie again? No. She was the reason I had gotten myself into this and I would take whatever punishment was dealt out. My body went limp as the cuffs clasped coldly around my wrists.
Everything began to come back into focus as I was jerked from my prone position against the table to my feet. The stranger behind me tugged on the chains binding my hands, forcing me to stand upright. At the other end of the room I saw Dominick standing with hands on his hips, laughing. That asshole.
“Holy shit!” He could barely get the words out through his hysterical boyish laughter. “Your face!” Now pointing at me, I thought for sure he was going to fall to the floor.
“I am going to kick the shit out of you. You know that, right?” I said as I regained my composure, the handcuffs
being unlocked behind me.
“Maybe you should leave the cuffs on him for a while, Larry.” I tore my hands free before Larry could follow Dom’s suggestion. “He’s dangerous, ya know.” His hyena-like cackling continued.
“You almost gave me a goddamn heart attack right there! Jesus Christ!”
“Oh, c’mon. You know you love it.”
“I think you broke my nose, Larry.” Readjusting my face I looked behind me to see Dom’s partner Larry with a smug smile across his face.
“Sorry. Dom told me to make it seem real.” It was Larry’s deep voice that I had heard through the door.
“I take it he was convincing.” Dom continued chuckling as he made his way across the room to give me a hug.
“Come here, you!” I stood a good six inches over Dom, so when he went in for a hug, with his bodybuilder physique, it was more like a midsection tackle.
“Gayest cop ever.” I teased as he wrapped his arms around my torso. “So, what the hell are you doing here, anyway?”
“The sergeant thought I would be best to handle this Randy thing since I know most of the servers,” Dom explained as he took a step back.
“Did you tell the sergeant no one here liked you?” I teased.
“He didn’t believe me. I’m such a popular guy amongst the force, he figured everyone loved me.” At this, Larry chuckled quietly to himself. “Fuck you, Larry. Everybody loves me.” Dom knew this was not true and had no trouble making fun of his unfortunate position as the precinct joke.
“Uh huh. I’ll see you upstairs,” Larry said while he
rolled his eyes and exited the room.
“Yep.” Dom gave a slight wave. “Larry has Dom duty this week.” He shrugged his shoulders. None of his fellow officers ever wanted to be Dom’s partner, so they all took turns putting up with his boy scout-like good nature.
“So anyway,” Dom pulled out one of the conference chairs and had a seat.
“Yes?” I took a seat at the same spot where my face print could still be seen on the polished wood table.
“You closed last night, right?” Dom opened his little notebook.
“Yup. Before I left Randy said something about meeting some guy out in the parking lot for good times and pleasure making. Whatever that means. Is that helpful?” If I were to do anything but give Dom a hard time in his investigation he would have been suspicious.
“C’mon, man. I’m serious. You know and I know this was probably drug related. We all know Mouse, I mean Nelson, was Randy’s dealer. Hell, the bush in front of Randy’s car looked like it was freakin’ Christmas with all the white powder on it.”
“So why bother with the investigation? Let the dealers kill each other.”
“That’s a great idea, in theory. Unfortunately, for every one you kill or put away, three more pop up.” The defeat in Dom’s voice was evident. “Honestly, I doubt Randy or Mouse would have even notified the police. It was DeeDee who called us. She had forgotten her purse in the office, so she had to come back after they had closed up the place. That’s when she saw those two all bloodied up and called us.”
“Wow. How bad was it?” I asked.
“Pretty fucking bad. According to Randy it was just one guy, but I swear it looked like a gang jumped them.”
&nbs
p; “Could Randy be bullshitting you?”
“Oh, I am sure most of what he has told us is crap.” Dom rolled his eyes at the futility of his current assignment. “But some of it seemed pretty believable.”
“Like what?” It was beginning to occur to me just how valuable it was to have an inside source.
“Randy said it was just one guy, dressed up in some funky outfit.”
“Like a Viking suit, maybe?” I kidded.
“No.” When you got Dom talking about a case, no matter how pointless or unsolvable, he always got very serious. “I guess he was wearing some sort of black goggles and huge boots. Mostly dressed in black.”
“Goggles? So, he was a swimmer, then.”
“Shut up. No. If Randy is telling the truth, which I am still not convinced he is, it sounds like we might have a case of some vigilante justice.”
“And what makes you think that?” Dom really was good at his job.
“There were no drugs on the scene anywhere, except for what had been scattered into the street. We searched Randy and Mouse. We searched their cars. We scoured the surrounding area and we found nothing. If it were another dealer, why would they destroy the drugs? Even weirder, Randy still had about a hundred bucks on him. Whoever did this had no interest in keeping the drugs and was obviously not looking for money or else he woulda emptied Randy’s wallet.”
Or maybe the guy who did it just has a twisted set of morals, I thought to myself.
“Well, maybe the world would be a better place with a few guys like this on the streets.” I offered to Dom.
“No. Whoever did this is still a criminal.” Dom stood up to pace. “You didn’t see what this guy did, man.”
Yes I did, again to myself.
“That kind of thing is not the answer. If this was just one guy, he’s one fucked up dude.”
“Yeah. Really fucked up.” I blankly nodded my head as I began to feel pain coming from my chest. Looking down I saw red seeping through my freshly bleached oxford, barely hidden by the black vest. Larry’s tough cop act must have done something to Tom’s handiwork. Or it could have been Dom’s overzealous bear hug. Trying to keep my cool, I subtly closed the vest further, hoping Dom would let me get back to work and reserve small talk for later.
“So, I am guessing if you saw anything out of the ordinary last night you would have told me by now.” Dom was thankfully ready to wrap up his informal line of questioning.
“Well, I got out of here around twelve thirty. I’m figuring Randy didn’t leave until one or so. He was just going to check out as I was leaving.” I tried to keep my timing vague. “I didn’t notice anything weird. But then again, I wasn’t really looking, either. Sorry, man.”
“It’s okay. I really doubt we’re going to find anything out here. I’m just going through the motions. Besides, hanging out here is better than being out on the street.” Dom admitted. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be shocked if we saw this guy come around again.”
“You really think so?” Dom’s instincts were certainly impressive.
“It’s only a hunch. It could have just been some crazy meth freak. Who knows in this city?” Dom snapped his notebook shut. “I’ll just get as much information as I can. Unfortunately, other than Randy’s bullshit statement, I have nothing else to go on. No strange cars in the parking lot. No people lurking around after hours.”
“I couldn’t do what you do. I’d go crazy,” I sympathized.
“It’s a steady paycheck and good benefits,” he reasoned back “and if I stick it out I can actually retire
someday.”
“True. Then you can take all the gay cruises you want.”
“Well, that would be a great place to start looking for your real father, then,” Dom rebutted. Many people tried to be sensitive about my lack of parents, but Dom knew I just didn’t care.
“Touché, sir. Touché.” I rose to my feet, not so subtly hinting I had to go.
“So, how’s Moxie?” Dom began a conversation that I could not consider having while my chest was pumping blood into my snow white oxford.
“She’s good. With all that’s going on, she’s good.” I kept it brief. “Why don’t you swing by Mema’s tomorrow, we’ll talk about it over lunch. My treat.”
“Who are you kidding? Mema never charges me. The woman adores me.”
“It is normal to mistake pity for adoration. But whatever. So lunch tomorrow?” The blood was now soaking the cotton hiding behind my black vest.
“Yeah. I’ll call you in the morning,” Dom agreed.
“Perfect. I better get upstairs before DeeDee has a stroke over me being down here so long.”
“I do not miss that crazy bitch,” Dom admitted.
“Is there any way we can pin all this on her and you can lock her up?” I asked, only half joking.
“It’s tempting.” Dom slid his notebook back into his uniform’s chest pocket. “Very tempting.”
“Well, if you do, make sure I can get some good pictures of you dragging her off in cuffs,” we both laughed at the thought. “Well, I gotta go brother.” I quickly ducked towards Dom to instigate a hug knowing it was unavoidable and if he were to hug me he may get a shirt full of blood. I leaned in briskly and pulled his shoulder into my armpit.
“See you tomorrow,” I assured him
“Yeah. See ya.” Dom threw his characteristically charming smile my way as I left the conference room.
I bolted upstairs, trying my damndest to get to the employee bathroom as quickly as possible. At that point, there was no hiding the blood spreading all over my chest. My near sprint through the kitchen may have made me look conspicuous, but I figured I would not be the only person in history that has ever run to the bathroom for one reason or another. Making it to the shipping room undisturbed, I slipped into the open bathroom and slammed the door behind me.
With a moment to assess the situation, I slowly took off my vest to avoid getting blood on anything else. My pinpoint oxford had a huge splash of red across the front that seemed to be growing. I unbuttoned the shirt and gingerly removed it, placing it on one of the free coat hangers dangling from the bar positioned over the toilet. My undershirt was a mess. It looked like I had just been stabbed, fresh blood shining triumphantly through the thin fabric. As I reached down to pull the t-shirt over my head, I heard someone attempt to open the bathroom door.
“I’m in here!” I hollered to whoever was on the other side. Not deterred, the handle continued to jiggle.
“I said I’m in here! No entrada, goddammit!” I figured I would cover all my bases and use my very limited Spanish, just in case the locked door and yelling from the other side wasn’t enough to let a kitchen guy know the bathroom was occupied. It was no deterrent as the door continued to be shaken. Instinctively, I grabbed the knob with one hand and yanked my oxford down to cover myself up with the other. Unfortunately, the blood on my hands made the metal handle too slippery to grasp and the door popped open before I could consider an alternative plan. It was Twisty.
“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled as I swung around, trying to keep my bloody clothes from her.
“What are you doing? Do you always take off your shirt when you go to the bathroom?” Twisty shot back defensively.
“Why the hell are you busting in on me when I am in the bathroom, anyway?” I couldn’t decipher as I yelled at her if it was confusion or fear that was enraging me, but whatever it was I was furious.
“I saw you running through the kitchen. I was worried.” Her demeanor lowered. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“Did it occur to you that maybe I was running because I had explosive diarrhea or something like that?”
“Well, you obviously don’t. Oh! Wait! Did you do it on your shirt?”
“How is that even possible?” My inability to stay mad at her was showing, even though I still kept my back to the door.
“Well, if it was explosive it could get all over ever…”
“Enough. E
nough.” I stopped her.
“So what the hell is wrong then?” She pulled my shoulder to force me around. Even with the oxford covering the wound, blood was everywhere at that point.
“What the fuck happened to you?” She gasped loudly.
“Shhh…” putting my hand over her mouth, I shut the door again and twisted the not-very-effective lock. “It’s just from a bike accident.”
“You got in a bike accident somewhere between the basement and the employee bathroom?” It was becoming apparent the bike accident lie was not nearly as effective as I kept hoping it would be.
“No. It was last night. On my way home I…” She didn’t let me finish.
“Fuck me!” And that is when it hit her. “You’re the
one that kicked the shit out of Randy and Mouse last night!” I had to put my hand over her mouth again to shut her up, staring intensely into her eyes, silently pleading with her to be quiet. There was no sense in continuing any sort of ruse. Randy’s bragging about stopping his assailant with a bottle had made it clear what the wound was from. She had me completely figured out.
“Holy shit! What the hell is wrong with you?” She chastised me in a hushed yell.
“Nothing is wrong with me. I mean, besides this big freaking gash in my chest, I’m fine.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it. Are you totally unbalanced? Drew, this is crazy shit. Normal people don’t hospitalize co-workers just for the hell of it!”
“Mouse wasn’t our co-worker. Randy’s fine.”
“You know what I mean.” That was the first time Twisty was ever angry with me. I would normally get the cold shoulder for a few hours whenever she would find out I slept with one of the female servers or hostesses, but I never felt she was angry. At that moment she seemed genuinely mad, and a little scared.
“It’s not what you think,” I told her.
“So you’re not a psycho? Because that’s what I think!” Her arms were crossed and her bottom lip was jutting out as she fumed. I always thought Twisty was cute when she got angry.