Cowboy Ending - Overdrive: Book One (37 page)

“I feel so
silly, Max. This is too much … Jimmy, really?” Cathy pointedly
stared into the spotlight until Jimmy grimaced slightly and flicked
off the light. I blinked in relief. That thing was bright.

“But you’re all
right?” Max insisted, the police officers hovering a respectful
distance back looking both concerned and bored at the same
time.

Cathy smiled
somewhat tremulously. “Yes, for sure. It’s just so silly, I
should’ve called you right back. All this …” she motioned with her
head to the cops and her cameramen. “This is just unnecessary.”

Max’s
immaculately groomed features wrinkled in a slight frown. “You
sounded so scared, Cathy. Thought I heard something in the
background. You said you were on an assignment to talk to a source
or something?”

Cathy flushed
slightly. “I was. We were,” she amended. Motioning towards me,
killing my wallflower vibe. “Joe was giving me a lift to the
location.”

Jimmy frowned
at that. “Why didn’t you get one of us? Kurt and I are hanging
around all night anyway. We could’ve taken a TV van to interview
this person. Officially we’re supposed to do that.”

“Normally I
would, absolutely.” Cathy’s smile turned regretful and more deeply
embarrassed, her TV training really coming to the forefront. “This
is a delicate story and my source wasn’t ready to go on the record.
Officially, we weren’t interviewing anyone yet.”

“So why
take him?” Kurt asked, nodding towards me. Over his shoulder I saw
one of the police officers eyeing the back of my van. Checking out
the patch job on my window? My license plate?
Oh shit, did I pay up my insurance
? “What’s the
matter with your Passat?”

Max turned his
attention to me as well, his expression unreadable.

“My car’s fine.
Joe knows the neighborhood better than I do. Plus, he’s the one who
tipped me off about the story.”

“He did?”

I did?

“I did,” said
I, feeling like I needed to back Cathy up with something.

“What’s the
story?” That was one of the police officers. “Is it something we
should be aware of?”

“Uhm …”

Like I said
before, I suck at lying.

Thankfully, I
was working with a pro.

“At present
time we have no knowledge of criminal activity,” Cathy declared
with precision while turning her smile on the officers, both of
whom nodded slightly. “It’s a delicate matter involving personal
securities and civics right now. I was hoping to meet her with a
friendly face,” she motioned back towards me. “Hoping to set her at
ease and convince her to come forward.”

“This guy sets
people at ease?” Kurt asked skeptically, giving me a look.

I shrugged
slightly. “I have my moments.”

“So what
happened?” Max insisted, ignoring everyone else.

“No answer at
her home. I figure she got cold feet and ignored our knocking.”

“No, not that.
What happened to cause you to scream? The noises I heard?”

Oh. That.

“Oh. That.”

What, is there
an echo in here?

Cathy’s lower
lip trembled and her eyes welled up again. She brushed away at her
cheek. My stomach clenched tighter seeing that. The memory of her
gripped by those two young thugs flashed into my brain, creating a
lightning storm of anger. I had a sudden desire to rush back to
that house and lay all of those punks to waste hit me in a wave of
fury.

“I saw a dog
get hit by a car.”

Wait, what?

“A dog?” Max
asked.

Cathy nodded,
tears rolling down her cheeks again. Her dimples showing as she
grimaced, trying to hold them back, her lower lip trembling as she
continued brokenly.

“It was
horrible. We were on our way back and it just happened.”

Jimmy and Kurt
gave each other a glance and made faces, sharing a private joke.
One of the police officers rolled his eyes and turned away back to
their parked squad car, speaking into the radio pinned to his
shoulder.

“That poor
puppy,” Cathy cried softly as Max wiped at her cheeks. “I screamed
and dropped the phone and …”

“Shhh …” Max
said soothingly, wrapping her up in his million dollar arms. “Shhh
… it’s okay. There was nothing you could do.”

Jimmy and Kurt
sighed heavily, packing up the camera equipment and talking amongst
themselves. The remaining police officer came over to Cathy and
Max, made some enquiries about Animal Services and the Police
Association Fundraising dinner in a few weeks. Max shook his hand,
smiled widely with an embarrassed glance down at the weeping woman
in his arms and made a few quiet promises I couldn’t hear.

I sighed
quietly, watching the officers get into their car and prepare to
leave. My eyes were tired and my belly continued to rumble as the
shock and efforts of the evening started wearing on me. I scoured
my brain trying to think of a good place to get rid of the guns
where a bunch of hooligans couldn’t find them. The rest of my
thoughts were occupied with
Cowboy
Shotz
. Pictures of missing girls on a filthy basement
wall. The look in the eyes of a devastated and troubled young man
who’s sister had been murdered.

“Joe, I’ve got
to thank you.” That was Max who had snuck over when I wasn’t paying
full attention and grabbed my hand, reeling me into a hug.

Getting a bro
hug from a millionaire athlete shouldn’t be different from anyone
else, but it sure felt weird when Captain Max did it. Maybe it’s
cause I was afraid of breaking him and being reviled by every
hockey fan in the city. Having them hunt me down like a pariah,
complete with torches and pitchforks.

Max might’ve
been in peak athletic condition, but I still had at least sixty
pounds on the guy. He pretty much had “handle with care” tattooed
on his forehead as far as I was concerned.

Sue me, I’m a
fan. And I wanted him healthy for next season.

“Thank you so
much, Joe” Max gushed again over my shoulder, smacking my back
firmly. “I was worried about her. I thought for sure something
terrible had happened.”

I grimaced. It
might’ve been a smile. “S’okay, Man. No problem.” I gave him a few
gentle back thumps in return. This guy was a real hugger, no
respect for belt buckle distance at all. “Just .. you know. Too bad
about that dog.”

“I know man, I
know.” Max stepped back, clapping me on the shoulder one last time
before taking Cathy’s hand in his. Her smile was still tremulous,
but her eyes were clear. Damn she’s good at that. “I’ve got three
dogs myself and make donations to a few shelters here in town. It’s
always horrible when this happens.”

Cathy smiled up
at him and gripped at his arm with her free hand before turning her
gaze back to me. Her eyes gave me the universally recognized “get
the fuck out of here” look loud and clear when she knew Max
couldn’t see.

My hands
clapped together, loud in the cool night air. “Right, well. Cathy’s
good. I’m good. Nothing crazy happening. So, I’m gonna take
off.”

“Thank
you
so
much, Joe” Cathy said,
really selling her story. I gave her my small smile in return,
images of her being held captive still flashing through my brain in
vivid Technicolor. I hoped I was able to keep those thoughts off my
face. “You let me know if you hear anything else about your
friend.”

“My
friend?”

“Yes. Your
friend.” Cathy’s eyes widened slightly, her lips pursing out her
dimples as she stared a hole in my idiot head. “The one we went to
talk to. The one who wasn’t there.”

“Right. Yes. My
friend. I will be sure to let you know.”
Yeah, that sounded like bullshit to me too.

I slid back
into my Windstar and fired her up. Over on the sidewalk Max and
Cathy had walked to where the cameramen were finishing up with
their equipment. Max was doing a round of handshakes, placating
them for his panicked reaction I assumed. Cathy turned her head my
way, caught my eyes for a brief moment. She smiled very slightly, a
genuine one. A shared secret.

I nodded my
head once, my guts a swirling mass of emotions. Guilt. Jealousy.
Rage. Confusion. Betrayal.

Cathy brought
her hand up to her face and made the universal “call me” gesture,
her eyes and smile getting a touch worried.

My baby roared
weakly as I slipped her into drive, shuddering in place. I nodded
once more and drove off.

Chapter
35

“Joe! What the
hell are you doing here?” Mark asked in surprise, pulling me in for
a bro hug. “Did Aaron call you in?”

It was
odd being in
Cowboy Shotz
when
it wasn’t open for regular business. Some of the lights were on and
music was playing but it was clearly designed for background and
ambiance as opposed to the full on move-your-ass grinding beats I
was accustomed to.

“What? Can’t a
guy pop in for a cold beer?” I asked, my eyes scanning over his
shoulder and going immediately up the double wide marble staircase.
People were up on the landing, lounging in the metal patio
furniture there. Affluent looking men in suits and a number of
young women dressed in high finery.

The door at the
top of the stairs was open, a warm yellow light spilling out and
reflecting off the stone walls.

Mark laughed
and clapped me on the arm. “Well, I don’t see why not. Shelby’s
over at the main bar and I’m pretty sure you’ve got a few Coronas
on credit.”

I nodded,
stepping away from the door my eyes still scanning all around.
“That’s what I figured.” Mark closed the main entrance behind me,
resetting the lock bar as he did. I blinked at him. “Am I too
underdressed for this party?”

He laughed,
adjusting his sharp black silk tie. Full length black suit, crisp
white cotton complete with cufflinks and freshly polished leather
shoes. Good ones too by the look of them, no shoddy soles. Good in
a scuffle as well as with fine clothing.

“Surprised me
too,” Mark said with a chuckle, tugging at the sleeves of his coat
primly. “Aaron sent me down to the tailors after I called him
yesterday, asking for a spot. Got me this piece on the club’s dime.
Custom fit and everything. Said it was a big week and we all had to
look our best.”
“Huh,” I grunted, subconsciously wishing for even just a new pair
of boots to hide my scuffed and crummy steel toes. “You clean up
good.”

Mark smirked
slightly. “Yeah, Tamara said the same thing.”

Some maniac
sent me a mental email picturing Mark’s face under the heel of my
boots.

I blinked,
sending the image away.

“Never did like
her taste in men.”

Mark laughed.
“Go. Get yourself a beer. You’re looking for Aaron I figure?”

“Yeah. If he’s
got a minute. Anyone else here?”

“Big Mike.
Danny. A few of the newer guys. Oh yeah and the cops. Parise,
Miller and one of the others. I don’t remember his name.”

“They all
upstairs?”

Mark nodded.
“Yeah, I think so. Except for the last cop. He’s at the bar staring
at Shelby’s tits.”

I nodded
sagely. “Who can blame him? I’ll be at the bar.”

As I crossed
the barren dance floor I gave the room a once over no differently
than any other night when I was on duty. The door to the office
above the bar was closed but a light was under the door. Aasif was
probably up there crunching till counts. Or snorting rails. Dude’s
got a serious nose candy problem.

Over in the VIP
section the gigantic and hirsute Officer Miller was deep in
conversation with a couple of Asian gentlemen, I assumed Filipino
descent given their high population in the city of Winnipeg though
I honestly couldn’t tell. All three of them were dressed to the
nines, though Miller had forsaken a tie in favor of having his
dress shirt open slightly, his manly foliage peeking out the collar
in search of freedom. Two young Aboriginal women lounged at one of
the stand-up cocktail tables nearby, completely decked out in fancy
party dresses and holding delicate champagne flutes. Their
expressions were vapid, but pleasant.

My stomach
clenched as I looked at them. Flashes flickered through my brain
like a deck of cards, comparing their faces to the ones I saw on
that filthy basement wall.

No matches.

As I approached
the main bar I was surprised to get a big smile and little girlie
wave from Shelby, assistant bar manager and alcoholic beverage
slinger extraordinaire. When the club was open for regular business
in the summertime Shelby exclusively worked the beer tubs dressed
in full on “cowgirl” themed attire. Maybe “dressed” isn’t the right
word. Attired? Costumed? Whatever, you know what I mean; Daisy Duke
style cutoff jeans, leather boots, straw hat and a barely there
bikini top.

Since this was
apparently more of a classy event Shelby had her platinum blonde
locks done up in a fancy wave with a shiny, strapless silver dress
that had to have been glued to her nipples to stay up. Seriously,
it’s the only way I can figure to explain how it maintained what
was left of her modesty.