A Kiss With Death

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A Kiss With Death Page 3

by Frances Hoelsema


  All the fun came to an end when Laura started coming down with a headache. Marissa must have noticed because she looked concerned and asked if she was okay.

  “Yeah, it’s just…it’s just that I’m so tired all of the sudden and have this headache.” She drank the last sip of her Coke before resting her head in her hands, looking over the dance floor as she massaged her temples. “I think it’s just the music. I’ll be okay.”

  Not much more was said. All the excitement had died down. Watching others dance wasn’t any fun. Neither of them wanted more to drink or eat. Especially Laura. Her stomach was beginning to feel sour.

  “Livin’ on a Prayer” resounded through the speakers.

  Marissa stood up and tapped Laura’s arm. She excitedly said, “Hey, another one of your favorite songs. We should go dance together. Show Trey how it’s done.” She started pumping the air with her fist.

  Laura looked at Trey. How could he go on and on all night? “I don’t think so. I’m actually beginning to feel horrible. I think I should just go home.”

  Her friend looked downcast. “Are you seriously going to be okay?”

  “I think so. It just hit me so fast. I’m going to go home and sleep it off.”

  “Maybe I should drive you home.”

  “Thanks, but I’m only a couple of blocks from here,” Laura replied.

  “Want me to follow you home? Make sure you get there okay?”

  Laura shook her head. She grabbed her purse and slowly got up, hoping the slight dizzy spell she had just a second ago wouldn’t return.

  “Well, I’m going to leave if you are.” Marissa grabbed her purse, gulped down the rest of her drink, and followed Laura out the door.

  CHAPTER 3

  Later…

  D

  etective Randy Kojak turned his ignition off. He took one final drag of his cigar, exhaling slowly. The smoke lingered, its scent calming the muscles in his neck and upper back. Glancing at the Tommygun Tavern, his mind filtered through memories of what this place was to the community.

  Though the building was much older, this bar occupied its space for only ten years. The detective remembered it like it was yesterday. He wasn’t particularly fond of another bar opening its doors in Crimson Shores. There were already two others. He didn’t see the need, and he was afraid one more bar might hurt his reputation.

  Since Detective Kojak became a police officer and then a detective, he prided himself in how safe he had helped Crimson Shores become. Crime was dropping to rates lower than ever recorded since the founding of the city, and those that were committed were less serious in nature. Accidents were happening less and less. People had a sense of community and didn’t hesitate to leave their houses or vehicles unlocked. There was simply no need to worry.

  Add in another bar, those statistics could all end up in the trash.

  The day Tommygun Tavern opened its doors, there was a terrible windstorm with bouts of heavy downpours. The detective thought for sure the weather would deter people from coming to the ribbon-cutting ceremony, but it ended up doing the opposite. The street was lined with customers longing to enter Tommygun Tavern’s doors. Why? Detective Kojak still didn’t have an answer. He believed this was all going to prove a bad omen. Someway, somehow.

  However, in the last ten years, it has been anything but. He wasn’t sure how, but the bar brought in more tourists, helping Crimson Shores’ economy to not only survive, but thrive. The owners were constantly giving back to the community in one way or another. The town’s crime and accident rates remained steady. And he would have never thought, but it had slowly become one of his favorite places to go. All because it was where he had found his wife.

  Looking at the battered building, he contemplated on whether this was where the bad omen was going to rear its ugly head. A short while ago, he got a phone call from a fellow officer stating a dead body had been found in the bathroom of this very establishment. He didn’t know how to feel. He just hoped the poor soul’s lights went out on their own and not by way of force. Either way, death was not something he liked to deal with. It was never fun.

  The detective opened his car door and stepped onto the pavement. There were already two other police vehicles there, as well as a paramedic. The lights from their respective vehicles ricocheted off the brick wall. A few bystanders stood around, gossiping to anyone within earshot. Detective Kojak was sure a lot of interesting theories were being passed back and forth.

  A chilly breeze hit his face and threatened to undo his hair that was parted to the one side. His shoulders shrugged to rearrange his jacket. He patted his hair down and then straightened his blue tie, the one he got as a Christmas gift last year from his wife.

  The detective mentally prepared for his findings as he put his hand on the old door. Upon entering, he was welcomed with an eerie feeling. All lights were on, something that he never witnessed the many times he visited. Even worse, there was not even the smallest sound of music. It was quiet, save for a soft voice that came from one of the officers talking with a commoner by the dance floor. And from the corner of his eye, he saw the bartender standing behind the bar looking too relaxed. The two of them would have to have a chat later.

  Detective Kojak continued putting one step in front of the other, making his way to the scene. He got to the hallway, an area of the bar he had never been to before. In front of him was a sign that read ‘Men to the left because women are always right’. Two arrows were printed on it, one in each direction. He huffed. Cute.

  Looking to his left and right, he quickly saw that the doors to each restroom were different. Instead of the standard sign one would see in most places, there was a silhouette of a dancing body on each one. The women’s bathroom had a woman with long hair, hips jut out to the side and both her hands in the air. The men’s bathroom had a man with one hand up and the other down, legs spread slightly apart. Outside the men’s door had been placed two lines of yellow ‘Caution’ tape. It was in that restroom the dead body had been found.

  Once he entered, a clicking noise sounded. Another police officer had just snapped one last picture of the dead body.

  “So, what do we have here?” he asked. His voice was deep and grim.

  The officer informed Detective Kojak of all the details as if he was reading off a bullet list. “Caucasian. Male. Looks like he was in his upper twenties. Maybe low thirties. He was found slouched in the corner of the stall.”

  “Does there seem to be any evidence of foul play?”

  “There was no blood. No wounds of any kind. Nothing that sets up a red flag. Appears to be of natural causes. Heart attack most likely.”

  The detective rubbed the sides of his chin, along his goatee’s hair line. Besides the fact younger adults generally don’t have heart attacks, something didn’t seem right. He didn’t know what it was yet, but he had a funny feeling. “I assume the coroner’s been here already?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He slowly nodded. Checking over a few things himself, he announced the body could be removed from the scene and brought to the medical examiner.

  Two paramedics lifted the corpse and placed it on a gurney. The female one unfolded a white sheet and placed it over the entire thing.

  “We should know more within a day or two,” the officer monotonously stated. One would think he had been through this a time or two.

  “Right.”

  Once the body was gone, Detective Kojak stepped entirely into that one specific stall. It was clean; cleaner than he expected. Questions he wanted to ask flooded through his mind. It was time to head back out to the main area and get some answers.

  The first man he decided to talk to was standing in the middle of the dance floor, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. Detective Kojak walked up to him and introduced himself, offering a hand to shake.

  “My name’s Rick.” He shook the detective’s hand.

  “Rick, what can you tell me about what happened
here tonight?”

  “Well, I’m the one who found the body.” His voice was jittery. “I went to use the restroom and…well…there it – he was.”

  Detective Kojak noticed the bartender looking at him dully. For whatever reason, it caught him off guard a minute. Refocusing, he asked, “You said the stall door was open?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Detective Kojak’s eyes narrowed. Did the man know he was going to die so purposely left the door open for someone to find him? Did he try going to the bathroom and it just happened before he had the chance to close the door? The math wasn’t adding up right.

  “Was there anything else you saw? Any messes? Anything that seems important?”

  “No, not at all. Everything was real clean. Cleaner than normal, I mean.”

  That was the detective’s exact thoughts just moments before. Something was very suspicious about that.

  Again, the bartender’s eyes met with his. It was time they had a chat. Reaching into his back pocket, the detective pulled out his business card. He handed it to Rick. “Here’s my card. If there’s anything you remember, please don’t hesitate to call.”

  Rick quickly nodded his head. “Yes. Absolutely, sir.”

  Detective Kojak stepped around the side of Rick and walked a few steps to the bar. The man behind it was wearing a black t-shirt with dark jeans. His hair was pulled back in a slick ponytail, revealing an earring in one side. On his right shoulder was a white towel. As the detective approached, he was casually putting glasses away.

  Pulling a seat back from the bar, he hopped his short, stocky frame up. He reached out an arm, shaking the hand of the man on the other side. “Detective Randy Kojak.”

  “Brandon.”

  “I see that you work here.”

  “I’m the night manager,” the man replied matter-of-factly.

  Detective Kojak slowly nodded. “So, when was the body found? I take it someone called in right away?”

  “Yes, sir.” He pointed to Rick and added, “That man over there found him about an hour or so ago.”

  “Any idea who the dead man is?”

  Brandon grabbed the towel from his shoulder and threw it onto the bar top. He began wiping vigorously. “Yeah. His name was Trey Cooper. He comes here quite a bit.”

  “How often is quite a bit?”

  The manager shrugged his shoulder. “At least two or three times a week.”

  “Does he come alone? Or?”

  “Yes. Always alone.”

  Brandon started wiping more intensely. The detective thought he was trying to rub the top right off.

  Explaining further, Brandon added, “He’d come alone. Drink way too much. Always dance.”

  One of the detective’s eyebrows raised. “Did he dance with anyone in particular?”

  “No. Just around women. Not really with any.”

  “Do you happen to know if anyone was after him?”

  The bartender shook his head. “No, not that I’m aware of.”

  Before Detective Kojak could ask his next question, Brandon stopped and placed both palms on the counter. He looked at him and said, “I do remember he did dance with one girl tonight.”

  “Any idea of who she is?”

  Brandon shook his head. “No. I don’t recall seeing her before. It was only one dance. But boy did Trey fall for her. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Even came up here talking about her.”

  “Did the two –”

  “And her friend,” Brandon added.

  “Friend?” the detective asked, his curiosity piqued.

  Brandon looked up to the ceiling, trying to organize his memory. “Yes, that’s right. There were two girls.” He looked back at the detective. “There were two. He talked about how hot the girl and her friend was.” He went back to wiping more counter space. This time further down the bar.

  “Do you remember what they looked like?”

  The bartender paused. Shrugged. “They were both about the same height. Both were skinny. They were hot.” He smirked. It was the first time the detective saw any emotion out of him.

  Detective Kojak’s lip lifted on one side. “Anything else?”

  “They might be on video.” Brandon was back to his dull, relaxed self.

  “You guys have video feed?” Though it wasn’t technically a crime scene – yet, anyway – he had a feeling it might be something he should look at. Just in case. “Is there a way I can access it?”

  Brandon nodded. “Yeah, sure. Let me go get it.”

  While he waited, the detective looked over the place. An eerie vibe hit him once again. Hopefully nothing foul did happen, and everything would blow over. But something was nagging at him, much like the way his wife nags about putting the toilet seat down.

  As he watched one of the police officers come out from the hallway, he was startled by Brandon’s voice.

  “Here.” A disc was slid over the bar top.

  “Thanks.” Detective Kojak looked at it, tapped it against his hand twice. He ended up putting it in the inside pocket of his jacket. He then reached for another business card and handed it to Brandon. “Here’s my information. Should you have anything else to share, please give me a call.”

  Brandon studied the small piece of paper. “Sure.”

  Hopping down from the stool, the detective made his way out of the tavern’s doors. Something told him he was in for a long ride, that this was no ordinary death. He’d have to wait on the medical examiner to have any concrete answers. But until then, the disc in his pocket might be able to calm any concerns. Or worse yet, support them. He patted his chest where the disc hid underneath. He’d find out soon enough.

  CHAPTER 4

  H

  er eyes opened, but barely. She immediately tried to figure out what was going on. But everything was spinning in circles. Her mind felt like it was detached from her body. Through the slits of her eyes, she tried focusing. What was going on? Why can’t she see more clearly?

  She couldn’t hear well either. All that made it to her ears were the muffled beats of music. It must have been coming from another room.

  Someone grabbed her wrists and thrust them, one to each side of her. Turning her head, she tried to see her assailant. It was one giant black bubble. No noticeable features could be picked out for her to realize who it was.

  His grip tightened on her. He positioned himself on top, pinning her legs down. She didn’t like it. She tried getting him off. Twisting and turning her body as much as she could, he only came back stronger.

  With all her energy, she screamed, which she found out was not a good idea. The palm of his hand slapped her across the face. He covered her mouth. Tears threatened to make a line down her cheek.

  With one arm now free, she fought him. But she was no match for him. All that resulted was greater force and more abuse. He kept her from hitting. Kept her from kicking. Kept her from screaming. And she couldn’t even tell who he was.

  When she thought it couldn’t get worse, she could feel his hands reaching places they didn’t belong. But what could she do? Her strength was failing. No one was there to help.

  Closing her eyes, she tried not to feel the pain. The fear. Or anything this unknown man was about to do to her. As he ripped off her underwear and forced her legs open, she cried. She just wanted to know what was going on. Why was she being attacked? Who was attacking her? And why couldn’t she even see straight? Why did she feel like she was floating in air?

  Her legs trembled. Her whole body was shutting down. She gave up.

  He lowered himself on top of her and whispered, “I’m going to seal this with a kiss.”

  Laura’s eyes burst open. She bolted to a sitting position and frantically looked around. Where is he? Where is he? Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, wanting to escape its prison.

  Realizing she was no longer in her nightmare, and instead was safely in her own bed at home, she thanked the stars above.

  Memories of that one night flooded
to the front of her mind. A headache hit her like a ton of bricks had just smashed her brains. She put her hands to her head, wincing in pain. The rest of her body started to tense up. She couldn’t breathe.

  It was difficult for her to shake the inner scars left behind from the attack. Though it was years ago, her body acted as if it were this very moment. Gasping for air, she tried willing herself to relax. The few short minutes she spent doing so felt like hours. She couldn’t take it anymore. Her heart was palpitating and little beads of sweat lined the hairline against her forehead.

  On her feet, she walked to her master bathroom, one hand still clutched to her chest. She held out toward the wall for security with the other, not that it would keep her from falling if she should pass out. And if she didn’t calm down soon, that’s exactly what would happen. In the bathroom she reached for a light. Flipping the switch, she came face to face with a monster. She looked like a train wreck and felt even worse, her head and stomach vying for feeling the sickest.

  She opened the medicine cabinet and reached for a Xanax. It was the only hope she had of returning to a more normal state of mind. While she was at it, she grabbed a couple ibuprofen. Between the two drugs, there had to be some relief. Laura popped them all in her mouth, chasing them down with a small handful of water from the bathroom sink.

  Standing in front of the mirror with her palms on the countertop, she looked at her reflection. She blinked a few times. Each time she watched her chest strain to rise and fall. This was ridiculous. She had to get her mind off her nightmare. She had to gain control.

  Laura turned the bathroom light off and went back to the bedroom. She grabbed her red silk robe and put it over her flannel shorts and white t-shirt. Her feet slipped into the slippers her boyfriend bought last Christmas. The ones in the shape of a penguin, complete with a giant head above the toes. Penguins were her favorite animal, ever since a baby one had followed her finger along the pool at the aquarium when she was just ten years old.

 

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