by P. A. Wilson
She hesitated. There was no doubt that being caught by Black Eyes would be bad, probably fatal. She told herself it would be just a peek around the corner. She wouldn’t turn and go down the street, no matter what she saw. A peek as she passed, then she’d go back to the club, get her stuff from the lounge, call the police, and then finish her wine.
Behind her she heard a few shouts of good night. Monique turned to see two couples head toward her. She stepped aside, and let them pass. As soon as they were in front of her, Monique moved in behind and followed them. Close enough to seem like she was part of the group to anyone watching, far enough that they didn’t notice her.
The night was clear as only the end of a rainstorm could make it, the scent of moist earth drowning out the usual aroma of exhaust fumes and fast food. The chatter of the four people in front of her was familiar and made her feel safe. Monique had walked home in company of people just like this as often as she’d walked home alone.
Sometimes Tess softened up after a good night and would treat the staff to dinner and drinks. Even though dinner was pizza and drinks were the cheap stock brands, it was like family. The guys would insist on walking her home those nights. Other nights, Rafe would meet her and walk her home. If he’d been here, she wouldn’t be chasing criminals. She might be arguing with him about it, but she’d be doing that in the safety of the club.
She pulled her jacket around her at the memory. She told herself that she didn’t miss the feeling of being in a family. It had been a long time since she’d missed that. Family meant something different to her now.
Her cover group turned down the same street as Snake and Black Eyes. Monique realized the problem in her plan as she followed them. She couldn’t see around the group. Moving onto the road, Monique used an SUV as cover to look down the street.
It had only been a minute, but there was no evidence of either man ahead of her. Monique wrapped her arms around her body, the cold suddenly sapping her strength and desire for the chase. One last look confirmed they were gone, and it was time to go back to the club.
A few minutes later, Monique slid back onto her stool at the bar, reaching over she pulled her glass from under the counter. She soaked in the warmth of the club, and told herself to stop getting involved in stuff that wasn’t her business. She wouldn’t call the cops. She had nothing to give them. Sure, Black Eyes had been here, but he was gone. The cops were on the case, and they didn’t need her help.
The wine did its job of relaxing her, and as Dr. Jay ended his set, she swallowed the last drop. The band was packing up and Tess had turned on the canned music. A few of the patrons called for their bills. The club would be empty in a half hour or so. Monique still wasn’t ready to head home to her empty apartment, so she returned to the back room. A chat with Dr. Jay, and a smoke would help her be ready.
“Hey, Monique,” Dr. Jay said, his warm chocolate voice making her feel welcome. He was packing his trumpet into the case. Usually he unpacked a couple of beers before leaving. “I hear you had a good set tonight.”
“I heard your set. You make me sound like an amateur. You staying for a drink?” She unlocked the drawer and removed her purse. Flicking open her phone, Monique saw the new voicemail notification. Didi must have remembered to leave her the message with Andy’s number.
“I gotta head to the airport. Joseph is coming in on the red eye. I said I’d pick him up.” Joseph was Dr. Jay’s son. He was going to school in Nova Scotia.
“Tell him I said hi.” Monique pulled her cigarettes out of the bag. “Are the guys out back?”
Dr. Jay straightened, his trumpet case in hand. “No, they had a late gig to get to. You be careful now, Monique. See you on the B side.” He headed out, leaving Monique alone in the room. She threw her bag back in the drawer and headed to the alley to have a cigarette before she asked if there was an after party in the club.
It was cool in the alley, but not as chill as it had been on the street. There was no wind in there. On hot days that meant a stink that turned her stomach. But tonight that meant a respite from the worst of the weather. As she took in the first lungful of smoke, Monique looked up at the sky. The moon was out of sight, but the night was so clear, she could still see a glow in the direction of downtown. Maybe things were going to get better. Maybe Didi would get clean. Maybe Rafe would stop pushing her to care more, maybe… screw it. Maybe she should just enjoy the night.
The sound of footsteps made her draw back into the shadow of the door. Two people were entering the alley. She didn’t often see anything here that wasn’t a rat, or another smoker. Curiosity held her in the alley. A tingle of fear held her still when they started talking.
“But I can’t just drop it off.” Snake, whining as usual, stayed just out of view. “He’ll want to know where I got it. I don’t want to get him pissed at me.”
Why had they come to the alley?
“I brought it because you said you would. Do as you said you would. Maybe we should have trusted your junkie friend? Maybe he would not be so afraid.”
Snake had a lot of junkie friends. Monique told herself it didn’t have to be Didi. She didn’t recognize the voice, but she guessed who it was. If he had been speaking to her she wouldn’t have argued, but it seemed Snake wasn’t big on self-preservation.
“If you want me to take that chance, maybe I should get more money.” His voice didn’t carry any of the bravado of the words.
“No more money. We agreed on payment.”
Monique licked her fingers and pinched the end of the cigarette to extinguish it and the telltale glow. Then she leaned fractionally out from the safety of the shadow. Snake was standing in a pool of light looking up at the other man.
The other man was Black Eyes. He was looking in the opposite direction from her, so Monique felt safe. She slowly withdrew back into the shadow before either noticed her.
She still didn’t have her phone. Not that she would have called from the alley, but she could have slipped inside the door and made the call, then back out to hear the rest.
There was no way she was going to miss whatever Black Eyes was going to say to Snake. She’d call Detective Watson later.
“But you didn’t tell me what I had to do. Man, this is way outside my normal pay grade. You know what I mean?”
“No, I don’t know what you mean. This is just for you to deliver the package to the location we agreed. This is no pay grade.”
“But he’s already pissed off that Alexi took the bag. I tried to talk Alexi into giving it back, but he’s not answering the phone.”
Black Eyes snorted. “No, he won’t be answering his phone again.”
“Shit! He’s dead? See, it’s dangerous to have this thing.”
“Only dangerous if you steal it.”
Monique heard Snake mumble something, but couldn’t make out the words. There was definitely more to this. There was no way that being paid to deliver a package, no matter who it was going to, would be that dangerous.
“What if he thinks I stole it? Does he know that Alexi was working alone?”
Stupid Snake. He might as well have said he was working with Alexi to start with.
“Is there reason for him to think you were involved?” Back Eye’s voice was dangerously quiet.
“No, no reason at all.” Monique heard real fear in Snake’s voice this time. “How come you can’t take it to him?”
Good question, Snake, perhaps there are a few brain cells left in your head.
“Don’t ask questions. You do as you agreed.”
“Uh, sure, sorry. I hope the cops don’t follow me again.”
Monique wondered what the hell was in the bag. Black Eyes didn’t know he’d been seen picking it up, but he’d asked Snake to deliver it. None of this made sense. This mystery guy they were talking about was dangerous, but the cops didn’t know him? What the hell was this about?
“That would not be good.” The words were flat and Monique could hear the menace. “Why w
ould police follow you?”
“I’m kind of a bad ass,” Snake bragged. “I’m on their radar.”
Monique heard a click in the silence that followed Snake’s words.
“What the fuck, Vincent?” Snake’s voice was high with fear. “I was just kidding around. I’ll do it. I’ll head over there now. No—”
His words were cut off with a gurgle.
“He knew you helped Alexi, stupid,” Vincent hissed. “Now I have to tell him he won’t get to kill you.” Then she heard calm footsteps retreat to the street.
When she was sure that Vincent was gone, Monique hurried to where Snake was collapsed face down on the ground. She flipped him onto his back and then rocked away, clutching her stomach to stop herself retching.
Snake’s throat was slit from one side to the other. She could see flesh and cartilage torn raggedly apart. As she watched, a mist of red floated from the gash. Then Snake gurgled one last time.
CHAPTER 6
Scrambling to her feet, trying to avoid the blood she now saw mixing with the puddles, Monique ran for the door to the club. Snake was beyond help, but now she had information that she could give the police. And she had to do it fast. The blackness was crawling in from the edge of her sight.
The sound of people laughing in the club as she ran down the hall to the lounge seemed out of place. She thought about going in and telling everyone, but tossed the idea aside. The police first, then whoever was still around.
She fumbled with the lock on the drawer and dropped the key when she saw the red stain smeared on it. Her hands were sticky with Snake’s blood. Looking down she saw, then felt, the dampness of her clothes. It didn’t matter. She’d clean up later. If she stopped now, she would curl up into a ball. She had to think of the blood as evidence, or something else. If she thought of it as blood, she’d be useless. The blackness would take over and she would be too far gone to help.
Monique knew she wasn’t responsible for Snake’s death, but if she’d just thought to call the cops earlier, he might be alive. He was a whiny petty thief but he didn’t deserve to die like that.
Finally getting the drawer open, Monique dug out her phone and Detective Watson’s business card. Everything stuck to her hands. She would have to get a new phone. Even if she cleaned it, she’d remember that feeling, the stickiness, and the smell.
She closed her eyes. It was no point letting her thoughts get in the way. She knew this feeling, knew that she’d be incoherent soon. Knew that she had a short time to tell them what happened before it all came crashing down. Her hands trembled, but she managed to press the numbers.
“Watson.”
She blurted out the words before she could think about it. “Detective Watson, it’s Monique Duchesne. I’m at Blue Scene. There’s been a murder in the back alley. You need to get here.”
“Slow down, Monique. What happened?”
“Just come. The alley opens onto Main. You’ll see what happened. There is a lot of blood.”
He spoke to someone on the other end. Then, to her, “We’re on the way. Are you sure the person is dead?”
“Snake, it’s Snake. I think his real name is Paul Reed, or something.” She could feel the darkness pushing harder at her senses. “Yes, he’s dead.”
“Did you see what happened?”
“Yes. How long before you get here?”
“Do you know who did it?”
“How long?”
“Where are you? Exactly?”
“In the lounge. In the musician’s lounge.”
“Stay there. We’ll be five minutes.”
Monique ended the call. She needed to lie down, to get blood back to her head because the darkness was pressing harder. She couldn’t let it win this time. She wouldn’t pass out. What if she never woke up?
“Monique! My god what happened?” Tess’s voice broke through the cycle of panic. “Are you hurt?”
Tess took Monique’s arms in a tight grip, as though she could stop her from slipping into unconsciousness just by holding her. It worked. The blackness receded a fraction and Monique felt something more than panic and cold.
Monique blinked. Why was Tess angry? Oh, yeah. “I’m sorry. I tried not to get the blood everywhere. I’ll clean it.”
“We’ll worry about that later. Is this your blood?” Tess’s hands started to feel at Monique for evidence of wounds. “If someone hurt you, they’ll answer to me.”
Monique pushed herself into a sitting position. “No, it’s not me. It’s Snake. He’s in the alley.”
“Okay. I guess something caught up with him finally. I’ll call an ambulance and get him taken care of.” Tess made to stand.
“No. He doesn’t need an ambulance,” Monique said as she tried to wipe the blood off her arms. “The cops are on their way. I called them.”
A flash of irritation crossed Tess’s face, and then her expression returned to concern. “Okay, we’ll deal with it. Maybe it’ll bring the club some business – people will do the weirdest things for the most morbid reasons.”
It made Monique feel more comfortable when Tess was all business. There was something wrong about a Tess who cared.
She took Monique’s wrist and tugged. “Stop rubbing your arms. You’re just spreading the blood. I’ll send Barry to the back door so he can let the cops in. I’ll be back.”
Monique touched her face. She could feel dried blood like a second skin. She was going to need a shower and clean clothes – and soon. The smell was starting to turn her stomach. The blackness still lurked at the edge of her senses.
Tess marched into the room, placing a pile of clean bar towels on the chair and a bucket of hot soapy water on the floor. “I’ve told everyone to stay out. You can wash in this, and I’ll find you something to wear from the lost and found. It won’t be great, but it will be better than what you are wearing. Stay like that and it won’t be long before you start attracting flies.”
“Thanks,” Monique said as she started to remove her clothes.
“No problem.” Tess put a spray bottle of disinfectant on the chair beside the towels. “Use some of the cloths to clean the desk and the floor before it stains too badly. Chuck the dirty towels in the trash. I’ll take the cost out of your pay.”
Monique waited until she was alone and then stripped off her bloody clothes. She was grateful for the warm water. Shivering in her bra and panties, she dunked her hands into the water feeling the crusty blood breaking as it got wet.
She made quick work of cleaning herself and was getting ready to spray the desk when Tess opened the door. “Put this on,” she threw a tee shirt at Monique. “The cops are here. I told them to wait until you were ready.”
Alone again, Monique pulled the tee shirt over her head. It was long enough to cover her to mid-thigh. By the time she was able to go home, it would be freezing outside. It wouldn’t be enough, but maybe she wouldn’t have to walk home. She’d swallow her objections and take a ride from the cops. Monique pushed her clothes into the trashcan, knowing she would never want to wear them again.
She suddenly started to tremble. Telling herself it was adrenaline, she tried to spray the desk with disinfectant. It wasn’t accurate, but it would do. The trembling eased as she cleaned the blood out of the room and the smell went from coppery blood to clean pine.
Two minutes later, Detective Watson walked into the musician’s lounge and seemed to fill the room with his authority. Monique was curled up in the biggest chair waiting for him. Arms wrapped around herself to stop the shivering – or trembling, she wasn’t sure which.
“You look like you could use a drink,” he said.
“I just want to get this over with.” Monique wanted her bed, and her own wine, and her own clothes, and a hot shower. She didn’t care what order they came in.
“The team is dealing with the crime scene. I need to talk to you about what happened.”
He barely looked at her while he spoke. He inspected the lounge like it was a crime scen
e. Monique uncurled. “Do you want to take my statement here?”
He turned his gaze back to her. “No, at the station. I’ll take you home to change first. It wouldn’t be good for you to freeze to death in custody.”
Monique almost refused the offer, a knee jerk reaction. She remembered her thoughts a few minutes ago, and decided she needed clothes more than she wanted to be done with the cops. Maybe she could get a shower too if he wasn’t in a hurry. “Okay.” She pulled herself up and looked at her shoes. They were soaked. “How far is your car?”
He saw where she was looking. “It’s out front. You can leave the shoes here. Did you throw your clothes into the trash? We need them for evidence.”
Monique nodded then shoved her shoes into the garbage bag before following him through the club. It looked like Tess had sent everyone home. She was waiting at the bar. A shot of whiskey in front of her. “You need a lawyer, Monique?”
Monique looked at Watson. He’d mentioned her being in custody, but there was no way he could think she killed Snake. “I don’t think so, Tess. Thanks anyway. If anything changes, I have someone I can call.”
The drive to her apartment was only a few minutes, but it went by in silence, and felt like an age. Monique kept her eyes on the passing scenery, stopping her mind from squirreling into the details of Snake’s death.
When they arrived at her apartment, Monique told Detective Watson she’d be taking a shower and didn’t wait for the answer. She stood under the stream until the water scalded her skin bright pink. Then she scrubbed the last traces of blood from her skin, traces real and imagined. The steam followed her into her bedroom where she dug out an old pair of jeans and a pale blue tee shirt. The soft cotton touching her skin felt like a caress of comfort.
When she came back to the living room, Detective Watson handed her a bowl of cereal. “You need to eat, and we don’t have anything healthy at the station. You don’t have much either, but this is better than nothing.”