All I'll Ever Need

by J. P. Bowie

  The Rockin’ Bar was nowhere close to being as busy as the last time Alex was there, the night he’d met Edward. Gary, the regular bartender, was working and greeted Alex with his usual welcoming smile.

  “Hey, handsome, where have you been hiding yourself?”

  “Faraway places,” Alex replied, grinning. He liked Gary’s easy attitude and ready smile. He made a great bartender.

  “What’ll it be?”

  “Just a tonic water with a squeeze of lemon.”

  “On the wagon, huh?”

  “Not really, just not in the mood for anything stronger.” He watched as Gary poured the tonic then ran a lemon wedge round the rim before squeezing a little of the juice into the glass. “You remember the last time I was here you introduced me to a guy from North Carolina. Edward?”

  “Sure do. A cutie pie if ever there was one. You lose him or something?”

  Alex chuckled. “No. Actually we’ve been seeing each other since then, but here’s the thing—the other night he was in a kind of accident and I think Herbie—you know who I mean? Little guy with tattoos?”

  “Who doesn’t know Herbie?” Gary said, laughing. “He’s over there in the corner singing the blues to anyone who’ll listen. So is Ed okay?”

  “He will be.” Alex picked up his glass and pushed a ten toward Gary. “Thanks, I’ll go over and help Herbie with his singing.”

  “Can’t make it worse. From what I understand it’s long and monotonous.”

  Alex wandered over to the far corner of the bar Gary had indicated. Herbie was sitting at a table, his head drooping onto his chest. No one was near him. It looked like everyone had tired of listening to him.

  “Hi, Herbie.” Alex sat down next to him.

  Herbie raised his head slowly and regarded him through red-rimmed eyes. “Hi, yourself. Slumming tonight?”

  “I’ve been here before, a couple of times. Just wanted to know if you had any idea where Troy Kendall might be. You offered to drive him home from a party last Saturday night, and he hasn’t been seen since.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes. Did you in fact drive Troy home?”

  “Nope, never got the chance. He left with Edward and some other guy. The son of a bitch dumped me for them.”

  Alex ran this information through his mind. Edward, Troy and ‘some other guy’ all left together? But from what Edward had said he had no recollection of that happening.

  “Edward was drugged, Herbie. Someone put a roofie in his drink.” He paused to let Herbie absorb this, and, to his credit, the guy appeared to be dumbfounded.

  “You’re kidding, right?” His glazed expression began to clear. “But that might explain things…”

  “What things?”

  “Like it looked to me as if Ed was being carried out and Troy was pulling at them, like he was trying to stop them.”

  “You didn’t go find out what was happening?”

  “No, man, I was there to have a good time, not chase after some jerk who’d dumped me. I just figured, you know, Troy was pissed that Ed had hooked up with somebody else. Anyway they all got in a car—” Herbie stopped talking and to Alex it seemed as if he was trying to recall something more. “Things were a bit hazy at the time. Too much to drink I guess. I’ve felt shitty ever since that night. I’ve had hangovers before but this one’s been a doozy.”

  Alex didn’t ask why Herbie was in a bar with a drink in front of him if he was still hung-over. Hair of the dog maybe? “Can you remember anything else, Herbie? Troy is still missing so anything you can think of would be a big help. The police are investigating his disappearance—”

  “The cops? Shit!”

  “Well, yes. Edward was found lying on the side of the road and Troy has vanished. The police are looking at this as a crime. My concern is that if it’s not resolved quickly, the FBI might get called in, as this involves drugs.”

  “I don’t do drugs, man. Booze is enough for me, but there were drugs being thrown around all over the place that night. Troy was definitely on something.” He closed his eyes for a moment then opened them wide and stared at Alex. “Yeah, now when I think about, there could have been some kind of struggle going on outside the car. Oh, man, I just thought Troy was high, and being a giant pain in the ass. Maybe he was trying to protect Ed. Shit.” He fell silent, his expression morose.

  “You don’t know who this other guy was?” Alex asked.

  “Oh yeah, it was the guy who was throwing the party. Walter something. Don’t know his last name.”

  “Thanks, Herbie.” Alex rose from the table. “You’ve been a big help.” Totally irresponsible, but maybe, just maybe you’ve given us enough to help the police investigation. “Hey, by the way, I never did know your last name.”

  “It’s Schenk.”

  “Good to know. Okay, thanks again. See you around.”

  Chapter Nine

  As he headed for his car, Alex called the local police precinct and asked for Detective McLennan. He half expected to be told the detective wasn’t there as he’d been on duty earlier in the day when he’d interviewed Edward, but he was put on hold and after a few moments, he heard a deep voice say, “McLennan, can I help you?”

  “Yeah, hi, this is Alex Martinez, a friend of Edward Conway’s. You remember we spoke at the hospital this morning?”

  “Yes, what can I do for you?”

  “Well, I was just talking with Herbie Schenk. He was at the same party as Edward and the missing roommate Troy Kendall. He said he saw Edward being taken out of the house by the owner and it looked like Troy was trying to prevent it.”

  “And this Herbie Schenk didn’t do anything to stop what was happening?”

  “No, I guess he was pretty drunk. He didn’t seem to have much recollection at all of the incident until I started asking him questions. I must have triggered some kind of memory. He said he thought Troy was high and just fooling around, but once he really started thinking about it, he said it was more like a struggle to stop Edward being shoved into a car.”

  “Does he know the owner’s name?”

  “Walter—he didn’t know the last name, but here’s the thing, I think it might be Walter Jacobs.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “I work for the Scott Malone Agency. We do publicity for film celebrities and I attended a film shoot for one of our clients a few months ago. It was at Jacobs’ house in the Hills. He’s an interior designer for really wealthy people. I could be wrong, but the location and the first name struck me as maybe more than just a coincidence.”

  “Hmm….” There was a lengthy pause and Alex figured McLennan was wondering if this was a credible lead or something that might start him off on a wild goose chase. “I’ll check it out tomorrow,” the detective said finally.

  “No word on Troy Kendall yet?” Alex asked.

  “We have a possible lead, but I can’t tell you more than that right now. Maybe tomorrow, if it checks out.”

  “I hope it does. They’re releasing Edward tomorrow.”

  “Good to hear. You’ll, uh, be visiting him no doubt?”

  “He’s staying with me until he’s stronger. I don’t think he’d get much aftercare from the other roommate.”

  McLennan chuckled dryly. “I think you’re right about that. Well, thank you for the information, Mr. Martinez. We’ll let you know if anything pans out. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Detective.”

  Alex hung up and sat back in his car seat. He had to admit that he was more than a little curious about whether he was right or wrong about Walter Jacobs. He cast his mind back to the day when he’d accompanied Jeff Alderman, a young, rising TV star, and a photographic crew to Jacobs’ house for the photo shoot. He remembered Jacobs as silver-haired, smoothly urbane in manner, with a little too much of the Southern charm oozing from every word. His persona didn’t quite fit the image of him struggling with Troy and trying to push Edward into a car. But, of course, much stranger things had
happened, and with booze and drugs on the menu, virtually anything was possible. He glanced at the digital clock on the dash.

  Just gone ten… Is there really any point in driving up there now to snoop around? And what do I expect to find—Jacobs involved in some kind of drug orgy? It didn’t seem likely, and if he remembered right, there were security gates at the end of the driveway, which would prevent him getting near the house. I can’t really go climbing over walls at this time of night. With my luck some neighbor might call the cops.

  His cell phone rang. Lena. He was tempted to let it go to voicemail, but maybe she needed something. “Hi, Lena.”

  “So what did you think?”

  “About what?” he asked, teasing her.

  “Ryan Hart, of course! Did he seem sincere to you?”

  No. “As sincere as an egotistical movie actor can be, I suppose.”

  “Oh, I-I kind of liked him, Alex.”

  “You did? Well, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

  “You don’t approve.” She sounded petulant. “He spoke rather warmly about you.”

  “I’m not going to marry him, no matter how much he likes me.”

  She giggled. “Oh, Alex, you’re so funny. Hank always said you could make him laugh more than anyone else he knew.” She fell silent, and Alex could almost see the tears welling in her eyes.

  “Lena, sweetie,” he said gently, “it really is time for you to move on and find some happiness. If not with Ryan Hart, then with someone. Someone who will take care of you and make you smile.”

  “You do that, Alex.”

  “Well…” He thought he’d better head off the maudlin direction Lena was taking their conversation in again. “I hate to break it to ya, honey, but I ain’t the marryin’ kind.”

  He smiled when he heard her giggle again. “Not with a lady anyway,” she said.

  “That’s right. Now why don’t you hit the hay, li’l darlin’, and get some shuteye. I’ll come visit tomorrow. Uh, in the afternoon,” he added, remembering his first priority was getting Edward out of the hospital and over to his house.

  Her sigh filled his ear. “Okay, I am kinda tired.”

  “Have Sophia make you some hot chocolate.”

  “Goodnight, Alex.”

  “G’night, sweetie.”

  * * * *

  The following day

  Mark McLennan stared down at the young man in the hospital bed for a few moments before trying to wake him. His roommate, Kevin Marshall, had called him cute, but Troy Kendall was more than that. Even with the cuts and bruises marring his face, McLennan could see there was a handsome man who would heal up very nicely indeed. The photograph Kevin Marshall had given didn’t do Troy justice at all—the same photograph that McLennan had taken from his pocket and looked at several times over the last twenty-four hours.

  He touched Troy’s hand gently. “Mr. Troy Kendall?”

  “Yeah, that’s me, I think.” Troy gazed back at him, his eyes slightly out of focus. “Hey, good-lookin’, who are you?”

  “Detective McLennan, LAPD. How are you feeling?”

  “Like shit. That’s what happens when you’ve been stuck in a hole for three days, I suppose.”

  “You’re a very lucky man, Mr. Kendall. If those hikers hadn’t heard you shouting for help, you might still be there.”

  “That supposed to make me feel better?”

  McLennan pulled up a chair and sat by Troy’s bed. “A lot of people have been worried about you, Mr. Kendall.”

  “Really? That makes a change. Who, for instance?”

  “Your roommate, Edward Conway, for one. He’s in this hospital too. Has been for the past three days.”

  “Is he okay?” For the first time, a glimmer of recollection and concern showed in Troy’s expression.

  “He’ll be released this morning. So, tell me, what happened Saturday night. Tell me as much as you can remember.”

  Troy frowned. “It was that bastard Walter Jacobs. He had Garth, the bartender at the party, spike Ed’s drink. I saw him do it, but I was a bit, uh, under the weather at the time, and I couldn’t stop Ed from drinking it. At first, I had this goofy thought that it might lighten Ed up a bit. He’s so uptight about so many things, you know? But then I saw him fall down and Walter go over and try to get him on his feet. I knew what he had in mind. I mean I was kinda out of it myself, but not so far gone I couldn’t see what the s.o.b. was up to.”

  “So you tried to stop Jacobs?”

  “Yeah.” He squinted up at McLennan. “How d’you know that?”

  “Your other friend, Herbert Schenk, gave this information to Alex Martinez, who called me last night. This morning I managed to speak directly to Mr. Schenk and he verified what he’d said.”

  “Herbert Schenk? Who the hell is that?”

  McLennan sighed. “You might know him as Herbie. Tattoos?”

  “Oh, yeah. He was going to drive me home, but then… Things happened.”

  “Right, and it’s those things I want to hear about.”

  “I wish I could remember all of it.”

  “Tell me as much as you can.”

  “Where are you going?” Herbie yelled from behind him.

  Troy wasn’t sure why he was following Edward out of the room, but he did feel a little bad about letting him wander about on his own. He’d said he was leaving, but a lot could happen to a person in this place. He’d seen stuff—stuff he tried to forget in the cold light of day. Even now, as high as he was, he wanted to make sure Edward got to his car okay. Southern-fried was an uptight pain, but he’d been good enough to bring him here, and he didn’t want to see anything bad happen to him.

  There he is, talking to Walter Jacobs. Yeah, Ed is definitely Walter’s type all right. His gaze flitted over to where Garth was mixing a drink. He saw Garth’s hand hover over the rim for an instant, and knew what was happening.

  “Hey…” He started forward. A wave of dizziness flooded his brain and he fell on his face. Hands grabbed at him, a voice, a braying laugh—the guy with the tattoos was helping him up. “Gotta stop Ed from drinking that…” Too late. He saw Edward throw the drink back. The tattooed guy hauled at his arms.

  “Come on with me!”

  “No—Gotta go help Ed.”

  “Son of a bitch!”

  The hands released him and he lurched toward where Jacobs was now half carrying Edward outside.

  “You dumping me?”

  The angry cry didn’t make any sense. Dumping who? Walter and Edward were standing at a car. Jacobs was fumbling with keys, while propping Edward up. Troy recognized it as Edward’s car. He pushed Jacobs aside.

  “What’re you doing? Leave him alone.”

  With an angry snarl, Jacobs wrenched the car door open and threw Edward inside, then started to climb in after him. Troy grabbed his arm, trying to pull him back out. Jacobs turned the key, the car roared into life and started to back down the driveway. Troy ran with it. He pulled open the back door and jumped in.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Jacobs yelled.

  “What are you doing with my roommate?” Troy yelled back.

  “Mind your own damned business. Now get out of this car.” He braked hard and Troy’s face collided with the back of Jacobs’ head. “Dammit! Get out.”

  Troy saw stars and his nose throbbed. He fell back against the seat rest. “Where are you going?”

  “How the hell would I know? I wasn’t going any farther than the car until you interfered.”

  “What, you were going to rape him in the car? I saw Garth throw something into Ed’s drink. The cops’ll want to hear all about what you’ve been trying to do.”

  “Damn you!” The car flew backward through the gates out onto the street. Jacobs maneuvered it to the right and sped up the hill.

  Troy was finding it harder to concentrate. His head spun, his stomach churned and he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He became aware of a struggle in the front seats. Forcing himself to sit up
, he saw Jacobs holding Edward by the arm while his roommate tried to open the car door.

  “No, Ed…” His voice didn’t sound like it belonged to him anymore. He reached out to grab Edward by the collar, but the car suddenly swerved and he was thrown back into the seat. A rush of air filled the interior, he heard a startled cry, Jacobs screaming “Jesus Christ!” then everything went black.

  “That’s all I remember.” Troy gazed up at the detective, and wiped at the moisture that had gathered in his eyes. “The next thing I knew, I was lying on my back on top of rocks and hurting like a son of a bitch all over.” McLennan handed him a tissue from a box near the bed. “Thanks. Sorry, I’m usually not the blubbery kind. Hard-hearted Hannah, Kevin calls me.”

  “It’s okay. You’ve been through a really rough time. You’re entitled to feel emotional.”

  “You’re nice. You sure you’re a cop?”

  McLennan chuckled. “I’m sure, Mr. Kendall.”

  “Call me Troy. I mean, you’re practically in bed with me.”

  McLennan’s cheeks turned pink and Troy laughed then winced, holding his left side. “Ouch, that’s from where I fell on a couple of big rocks. Sorry, didn’t mean to embarrass you.” He sighed and bit his lip. “I guess I kinda messed things up for Ed. Could be that jackass, Walter, only planned on giving him a blow job. He jumped out of the car, didn’t he?”

  McLennan nodded. “He was found lying on the road. His injuries aren’t that serious—a lot of bruising, but fortunately nothing broken. However, he had been drugged as you thought. If you hadn’t intervened, the outcome might have been much worse. You can’t be sure what Walter Jacobs intended to do. Rohypnol is known as the ‘date rape drug’ for a reason.”

  “Jesus, that bastard.”

  “Right. Now we just have to find out how you ended up at the bottom of that gully in Wilderness Park.”

  “It had to have been Walter.” Troy said, biting his lip. “But why would he do such a crazy thing?”

  “My guess is he panicked. We’ll know his reasoning soon enough. There’s a warrant out for his arrest and a squad car is on its way over to his house even as we speak.”