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 sa
id. “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!”
“Miss Summers, please calm down,” said Detective Reiss.
“I won’t let you question me!” I twisted some more. Finally, two officers pinned me against the wall.
“What’s going on here?” Detective Shorts arrived. He looked at me, Reiss, and the other two cops.
“I don’t want to be interrogated by him,” I repeated.
“Let her go,” Detective Shorts told the officers holding me down. “Now, tell me what is going on.”
“She was arrested for car theft,” said Detective Reiss. “Had a few drinks at Sal’s and is now resisting arrest.”
“Bullshit!” I yelled. “It’s my car and I can prove it, but the cops that arrested me never gave me a chance. And I never told you I was at Sal’s.”
“I learned it from the arresting officer,” said Reiss.
“The hell you did,” I spat. “I didn’t tell them either. But you were at Sal’s and threatened me there.”
“She’s clearly drunk,” said Detective Reiss, “and if you don’t mind, I have a job to do.”
“Give me the file,” said Detective Shorts.
“What?” challenged Detective Reiss.
“Take a look at her,” said Detective Shorts. “She clearly is not drunk. And since she is adamant about not being interrogated by you, little will be accomplished if you try it. Add to the list that she has now accused you of threatening her.”
“You don’t believe—”
“The accusation has been made,” said Detective Shorts, “which puts you off the case; and it won’t be that hard to find out if you and she had a run in at Sal’s.”
“That woman broke my nose,” said Detective Reiss.
“Thank you,” replied Detective Shorts, “for confirming your whereabouts tonight. Leave me the file. You are dismissed. Miss Summers, if you please.”
I went into the interrogation room and sat down. Detective Shorts closed the door. He undid my handcuffs and offered me some water. I wasn’t thirsty. I surveyed my surroundings while I rubbed my wrists. This is not how I planned to spend my night.
“You want to tell me what is going on?” asked Detective Shorts. He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Like, what was that all about?”
“I don’t trust that guy.”
“Neither do I, but you certainly caused a scene.”
“How do you know he isn’t listening?” I asked.
“What?”
“I know that’s a two way mirror,” I said, “and there are cops in the other room listening.”
Detective Shorts grinned. “Can’t fool you, can I? The intercom is turned off. If anyone is in there, they can’t hear us.”
I glared at him. He must have read my mind.
“I’m not lying,” he said. “Now, what is going on?”
“I didn’t steal the car. That car is mine. The registration and insurance are in the glove compartment under my name. My ID is still in the car in my purse. License plate is 5YGM69.”
“Congratulations. Even I don’t know my license plate number. This should be easy enough to clear up.” Detective Shorts went out of the room for a moment. He came back a minute later. “Now,” he said, “tell me the rest of it. Why were you at Sal’s? Why did you break Detective Reiss’ nose? And, why are you afraid of him?”
I sucked in some air. A part of me wanted to blurt out everything. Another part wanted to remain silent. I didn’t know if I could trust the guy in front of me. In the end, I chose to risk it.
“He’s a dirty cop,” I said.
“That is quite an accusation,” said Detective Shorts.
“It’s true,” I pleaded.
Detective Shorts held up his hand to silence me. He walked over to the camera in the room and unplugged it. “Tell me everything.”
Where to begin? “I caught Detective Reiss and Professor Vincent on the university exchanging packages. I wasn’t spying. I was actually working on an assignment for my film class and just happened to notice them.”
“Did you film the exchange?”
“Yes. I think it was drugs.”
“How do know that?”
“I kind of snuck into Professor Vincent’s office and found a bunch of drugs in the bottom drawer of his desk.”
“You do realize that that is breaking and entering,” said Detective Shorts, “and I could arrest you for that.”
“My boyfriend did mention that.” I slumped in the chair.
“Continue.”
“Then my friend Jackie and I came to the public tours that were being held here. We snuck off and followed Detective Reiss to the basement. He took something from down there. I didn’t see what.”
“I’ll have to tell Jack to quit doing private tours of the office. I’m well aware that your boyfriend’s cousin works in personnel,” Detective Shorts finished when he saw my expression. “And then you followed Reiss to Sal’s. Want to tell me why you were following him?”
I groaned. This wouldn’t be good, but I started talking and now was the time to spill it. “He murdered Rachel,” I said. “That girl that was murdered a year ago.”
“I know who she is. I also know that Detective Reiss handled that case.”
“And he was adamant that Tom did it. But he didn’t kill her. I know. I found Rachel’s cell phone in the computer lab. I took it home. I know it was hers because the SIM card in the phone said so. She had captured a video on the camera. It showed Reiss and Vincent raping a girl and then killing her. He looked over and saw Rachel. Must have known that she filmed him and killed her.
“When that guy broke into my apartment, he took the memory card from her phone. He killed her. I was following him, hoping to get proof somehow.”
After my spiel, Detective Shorts stared at me. I didn’t know what he was thinking. He mulled over my statement. “You realize what you just said?”
“Yes.”
“If what you say is true, then that means that Detective Reiss not only covered up a crime, but is guilty of theft, and two murders. Except, you don’t have the only proof.”
“I know,” I said. “I wish I did.”
“Do you still have the phone?”
“Yes,” I said.
Detective Shorts handed me his cell phone. “Call your roommate. Have her bring the phone in. No tricks.”
I dialed Jackie’s number. “Jackie? Grab Rachel’s phone. It’s in my nightstand. I need you to bring it to the police station. And bring my camcorder, too. I’ll explain later.” I knew I had woken her up. At least she was a good sport and didn’t ask me any questions. “She’s on her way.”
A knock sounded at the door. Detective Shorts opened it and talked to the uniformed officer there. I couldn’t make out what was said. “Tell me about tonight.”
“I followed Reiss to Sal’s,” I said. “I had a misguided notion of getting him to incriminate himself. He saw me and grabbed my arm.” I showed Shorts my arm. He studied the bruises there and made a note. “I broke his nose when he wouldn’t let go and called me a slut.”
Detective Shorts laughed. “I’m sure he liked that.”
Twenty minutes passed and I answered a few more questions. Another knock sounded at the door. Detective Shorts opened it and took a brown paper bag from the uniformed officer. He came back to the table and opened it pulling out Rachel’s phone. “Your friend doesn’t waste time.”
He opened the back of the phone and took out the SIM card, placing it in his phone. Sure enough, it came up as being registered to Rachel. He put the card back in Rachel’s phone.
Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 01 - Sugar And Spice and Not So Nice Page 7