Lemons 01 Darkness Once More

by Grant Fieldgrove

  “You got it, Cocks.”

  “See ya.”

  “Bye”

  Tough guy hang-up fail, part two!

  I waved to the driver and he pulled his tow-truck right up next to my car.

  He asked, “So what’s the problem?”

  “I can’t dance…”

  9.

  Needless to say I was a wee-bit late getting to the Starbucks on Coffee Road. Seriously, that’s the name of the street. It’s about a five-mile stretch of road that has no less than ten coffee places on it, and it was named this long before the coffee craze swept the nation. Anyway, I quickly spotted the guys and walked on in. I had expected the happy couple, who were sitting at the far table by the window, to be irritated with me, but instead I got a slight wave from Anderson to signal me. They both appeared in eerily good moods. “Sorry about that, fellas. Um, car trouble. Again.”

  Anderson took a sip of his coffee and said, “No problem, I’m billing you for this shit, though. And that shitty dinner we managed to get down at the coffee shop. And this pack of smokes I bought on the drive over. And a hat I’m thinking about buying. Time is money.”

  I couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. “Sure thing, Detective. Really milkin’ this one, eh?” I looked at his partner. “How’s it goin’, Enzite?” He gave me a little nod. He had somehow managed to squeeze into an even tighter fitting shirt than before and was still wearing his ridiculous sunglasses. I added, “You realize its nighttime outside, right, Cory Hart?” He scowled at me.

  “Still rockin’ the molest-stache, I see,” Anderson said to me. Shit, I forgot to shave.

  “Yeah, well I figured since I was hanging out with you guys tonight I may as well try to fit in with the whole blatantly homosexual motif you two have got going on.” Seriously, shave! Tonight!

  My joke actually got a smile from Anderson, not so much from Detective Thirdleg. “Hardy fuckin’ har, Lemons. Let’s get down to business. You want to order first?” Enzite asked.

  “I’m okay for now, but I’m just not going to be able to concentrate until you tell me where you got that shirt. I have to have one for myself. Does it come in Men’s?”

  “Ladies, come on, now,” Anderson chimed in. “You’re not going to order anything?”

  I shook my head. I had stopped on my way here to get a Rockstar. I didn’t tell him that though. I had left the engine running while I ran in to buy it, though, as I didn’t want to take any chances of being even later.

  Detective Anderson began filling me in on their game plan to track down Amanda’s killer. It was pretty much the route I had guessed. Actually, it was the route I suggested. Start at the hospitals. Drugs like succinylcholine aren’t very easy to come by, so start at the source. I agreed with their decision.

  He continued, “Our chief has given us full reign over this case but he wants everything reported back to him. He agreed to keep the murder angle under wraps but the tech nerds at the station told me there wasn’t anything in any online edition of the newspaper about it yet, so we’ll just have to wait on that, I guess.”

  I interrupted, “I called my buddy down at The Californian. There will be a little blurb about the death of Amanda Colley in it, and it will be reported as a natural-causes death. I was assured of this.”

  “Great.” Apparently, it was Enzite’s turn to talk. “You said you were working the disappearance of her daughter, right?”

  “Yeah. At the time Ms. Colley came to me we assumed it was a runaway case. I was just supposed to try and track her down, but something isn’t sitting right with me about it and I can’t put my finger on it yet.”

  “Well, if you think it may be a kidnapping, then by all means keep that to yourself. You can work it like a kidnapping but play it off like a runaway. We don’t need the feds taking any interest in this case. With a murder and abduction, they might pounce on our case just out of spite.”

  “Why is that?”

  Detective Anderson grinned and said, “Ah, I may have took a piss in one of the agent’s coffees during the last case they butted in on.”

  “Taken.”

  “Huh?”

  “Nevermind. Keepin’ it classy, I see, though”

  “That’s me.”

  Enzite pulled out his notebook and checked on something. I couldn’t see what, and then continued with “So are we good on this? You work the missing girl angle and we’ll work the hospitals. Hell, maybe the missing girl had something to do with it. I’ve seen sicker shit before. Runs off with some piece of shit, maybe a med school flunky or something and is sick of her mother butting in all the time. It could happen.”

  “Yeah, it could happen.” It wasn’t an all-together bad theory, actually. Still didn’t feel right though. There were way more pieces to this puzzle that needed to be found.

  Anderson took the last swig from his coffee and said, “Well, I guess that’s it for tonight. As much as I hate calling it a night the first day on a murder investigation, there is not much we can do right now. I might swing by the Colley house, take one more look around and maybe snag a picture of her to show some people. Want me to make you a copy?”

  “Well now detective, I don’t think that is necessary but that was downright sweet of you to offer.” I turned to look at Enzite and in my best stereotypical homosexual voice, I said, “He’s so thoughtful.” I even added a little limp wrist for effect. He was not amused. I turned back to Anderson, “Fuck man, get this guy a personality, would ya?”

  Enzite was pissed. “Fuck you, Lemons!” He turned towards Anderson and continued with, ”This is bullshit anyway! Why the fuck are we even working with this piece of shit? We can handle this case our….”

  Anderson interrupted and told us both to shut up. He was the lead on this case and wasn’t going to listen to anymore bickering, I guess. Looking at Enzite, he said, “Look, you and I are going back to the house to get a picture, then we are going home and going to bed.” He quickly glanced at me and saw me smiling, then added, “Our OWN homes and our OWN beds!”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “Archie, you go home or where ever you go and check any files you have on the missing girl and see if you missed anything. We’ll start fresh bright and early in the morning. Keep your fingers crossed that we….”

  He kept talking but I blocked him out. Something caught my eye out the window, in the parking lot. I stared intently at it as my body got the chills.

  “Arch, ya with me?”

  “Sorry Detective. I’m afraid we might not be calling it a night just yet.” I stood up from my chair and continued to stare. Out there, on the other side of the glass, in the dark parking lot directly under a light, the mystery, dented taxicab’s break lights went off and the door opened. Stepping out of the driver’s seat was the man who told me to fuck off at the liquor store.

  10.

  Wayne Brandon was a student at the local university up until about three hours ago. The new semester there didn’t hold very much interest for him and he decided to just stop attending. He had found something better. He pocketed the money his asshole parents had sent him for his classes, books, and shelter and left his school this brisk evening and vowed never to return, except to his dorm on occasion to collect his mail.

  Wayne had met a much older woman before he left school for winter break and returned home for two weeks. He was quite taken with her and he could not wait to return to school to see her again. When he got back and met up with her, she said she didn’t want to waste her time on someone who was always busy with school stuff. She convinced him to tell his roommates he was dropping out, pocket the cash his parents had given him and hopefully would continue sending him until they caught on, and just spend all his time with her. She promised to make it worth his while. So, being just like all the other college-aged males in the world, he thought with his dick and decided to grant her request.

  He was pretty impressed with himself. He was sick of the stupid little college tramps he was used to always being
around. They weren’t real women. Not like Roxanne. She was a woman! He couldn’t wait to finally get her alone in her house. Or apartment. Or wherever she lived. He didn’t care. He knew what was going to be happening and couldn’t restrain his excitement.

  Roxanne had told him not to tell any of his friends why he was leaving school. And if they asked, as they were sure to do, she told Wayne to simply lie. Maybe tell them he was moving back home so no one would be suspicious of anything. Wayne said that wouldn’t work because he still needed to return every now and then to collect his mail and look for money from his parents. They decided to just say he had to take a small leave for a while but would return shortly, and he would be back for his mail. Roxanne told Wayne not to tell his idiot friends about her. In fact, this point was stressed several times. She needed to be a secret until they were far away and started their new life together. She wanted to avoid any scandals. It raised questions to Wayne, but all the answers seemed to be ‘pussy’ so he didn’t waste much time pondering. Besides, she had assured him they would be starting this new life together somewhere other than this god-forsaken town very soon and then he could brag to his friends all he wanted. Even invite them out to visit. Wayne promised he wouldn’t tell a soul.

  After Wayne had packed up all his clothes and belongings from his dorm room and told his roommate the story he and Roxanne had come up with, he took the elevator down to the floor and walked right out the doors. He stopped to look back at the school he would literally never see again. In fact, his seeing days were coming close to an end.

  He dug into his coat pocket and fished out his cell phone. He had told Roxanne he would call her as soon as he was ready to go so she could come pick him up. He dialed her number.

  “Hey Sexy, it’s me. I’m all ready to go.”

  “Wonderful,” she replied. “I’m a little tied up right now taking care of some last minute unfinished business, but don’t worry. I will call a cab for you and have it drop you at my house. I’ll be home by the time you get there and I’ll pay for it. Is that okay, Sweetie?”

  “Um, yeah that’s fine I guess. I’ve never been in a cab sober before.” He let out a little laugh.

  “I’m sorry, Sweetie, but I promise to make it up to you as soon as you arrive. You’ve waited long enough. Sound like a deal?”

  “Hell yes!” He was giddy with excitement. He told her where he would be waiting and she promised to have a cab pick him up there as soon as possible. She told him she couldn’t wait to look into his big, gorgeous blue eyes, again. Wayne’s mind was too preoccupied with thinking about other body parts. He sat on the curb and waited.

  After about 15 minutes or so a cab pulled up to the curb and lowered the passenger side window so the driver could ask if he was Wayne. Wayne said yes, and opened the rear door and got in.

  “What the fuck man, did you just crash into Bigfoot or something? The front of this thing is fucked, man!”

  The driver glanced in the rearview mirror at the cocky little prick in the backseat and said, “It drives, da fucks it matter what the outside looks like? You can’t see it from where I’m sittin’.”

  Wayne shrugged. Seemed to make sense in some weird, fucked up way.

  At the next stoplight, he saw the driver undo his seatbelt and throw the car into park for some reason. He would soon know why. The driver turned around in his seat and delivered a crushing left-handed punch right to Wayne’s nose, completely destroying it. Wayne remembered seeing the fist coming at him but not having time to do anything about it. He remembered the explosion of blood bursting from his face and he remembered the immense and sudden pain. Then darkness.

  When Wayne awoke, he found himself tied to a bed. This was not exactly the way he was hoping to end up tied to a bed, he thought. Far from it. He was in trouble. His bladder gave out on him and he pissed himself and started crying and yelling for help. A voice from behind him spoke up.

  “Oh shut up, pussy. I’m sick of hearing people whine. Wait. Did you piss yourself? That’s a first.”

  “What, who are you? Why the hell did you punch me in the fucking nose?!”

  The man spoke again, this time his voice sounded a little muffled. He had put on a small surgical mask. “I assure you, boy, I did not hit you. That would have been my associate. I would apologize on his behalf but I have a feeling it wouldn’t mean very much after you see what I’m going to be doing to you.”

  Wayne was in a panic. He couldn’t move and he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. He was sobbing like a baby. He heard the man say “there, there” then saw his face enter his field of vision above him. He was standing behind Wayne’s head leaning over to make eye contact with him. “Those are some beauties. My assistant did well.”

  Wayne’s entire body was flinching in fear. He didn’t understand what was happening to him or why. He decided to ask but was simply ignored as the man backed away and continued doing something out of Wayne’s sight. The man returned to stand by his side. He was still wearing a mask and had put on some rubber gloves. Oh god, Wayne thought. Oh my god.

  The man spoke again. “You see here…I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

  “Um. Uh, W-W-Wayne.”

  “You see here, W-W-W-W-Wayne, you have gotten yourself into quite the predicament. Good shit very rarely happens when you think with your dick. Let that be a lesson for you. Did you really think you had a shot with my lovely assistant?”

  “Yeah, WAYNE,” came from a woman’s voice somewhere in the far corner of the room, out of sight. Oh fuck, Wayne thought. Roxanne is here. She saw me piss myself!

  “Roxanne, please help me.”

  “No can do, Sweetie. You understand, right? It’s business.”

  “Just let me go, please. I won’t tell anyone. This is bullshit. What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Come on, you had to have known you weren’t good enough for me. Children like you are so easy to manipulate. Their dicks always override their brains main function. Too easy.”

  “But. I really liked…”

  The man interrupted, “Will you bitches please stop fucking bickering?! Bottom line here, WAYNE, is that there is a very powerful man in Washington who has a son around your age. This man is very well connected and very rich. His son, however, has a rare disorder called Fuch’s dystrophy.” He stopped to sigh and rub his eyes with his rubber covered palms, then continued. “Like I said, it’s pretty rare. What actually happens is that back here, behind your eyes, you have a bunch of cells that line the endothelium of your corneas. These cells prevent fluid excess from pouring into your eyes. However, with Fuch’s dystrophy, these cells are weak and they kinda just die off, leaving no real protection back there. So, now what do you think happens when there is nothing blocking fluid from going into your eyes?”

  “Um. Fluid goes into your eyes?” Wayne didn’t like where this story was headed. He had to make a conscious effort to hold in his bowels.

  “Good job, college boy. Yes, fluid actually starts building up behind your corneas. Could you imagine the kind of problems that would cause? You should be happy you have healthy corneas.” The man turned around and rolled a metal table beside Wayne’s bed. Wayne noticed some mean lookin’ tools. The tears were flowing harder now and bloody snot began running from his broken nose and down both sides of his face.

  “Calm down so I can finish my story,” the man said. “Anyway, having fluid back there is a real problem. Have you ever opened your eyes under water? You know the way that looks? Now try living with vision like that, that no pair of glasses or contacts could fix. And that’s just the start of it. Eventually your eyes will start to swell up and little blisters will start popping up on the eyeball, causing quite a large amount of pain. Eventually, the cornea will lose all transparency and the person will become blind. But there is hope. Ya know how on driver license’s some people have that little donor sticker? Well, when those people die, the organs are used to help save other people’s lives. Even their eyeballs are used, be
lieve it or not.

  “Well, the problem with those donor stickers and the procedure along with them is that there is a rather long waiting list for people in need. Sad truth is there are not a lot of donors out there. Even if you have one of those little stickers on your license, your family can overrule it, even in your death. But anyway, back to my powerful friend in Washington and his son. I say friend but honestly, I’ve never met the man. The only thing that makes him my friend is that his payment arrived in a timely matter. Anyway, this friend of mine doesn’t want to wait on some bullshit list. He doesn’t want to sit around and see his son in pain and eventually going blind.

  “So he got in touch with a business partner of mine over there in the deep Washington underground and he referred him to me. So that brings me to why you are here. This is my little side job. A way to makes the ends meet, if you will.” He chuckled, rather cruelly, Wayne thought. “You, unfortunately, thought you actually had a chance with this hot piece of ass standing behind me here. When she seemed interested that really should have been your first clue that something wasn’t quite right. But you’re young and stupid and followed her right to me. Let that be another lesson to you.

  “So! Now, what we are going to do is remove both of your eyeballs. I’m not going to fuck around with the proper way of doing this. That seems silly. Do you know how thin the thread used for these ophthalmic surgeries is? It’s something like one-tenth the thickness of a human hair! It’s ridiculous. There is no way I’m fucking around with any of that shit just to make you all better. A much simpler way is to just remove everything. I’m sure they won’t use the whole eyeball, but may as well provide them with as much as possible.”

  The man walked back out of sight and came back with a filled syringe. He couldn’t have this boy awake during his work, too much movement even if he was heavily sedated. “Now comes the time where you go to sleep and I get to work. Sorry about your luck, Wayne. Try and stay alive for as long as possible though, would ya? You might come in handy again when the next order comes in. The girl I had here before you was able to give me two donations until we had to dispose of her. Let’s see if you can match that. Pardon the ironic pun. That seems like a good goal for you, though. Goodnight College Boy” He stuck the needle into Wayne’s neck and injected the liquid into his bloodstream. The effect would only take seconds.