Authors: Ian Maxwell
“Well, do you know something that we should be knowing about?”
“Should I be knowing something that you should be knowing about?”
“Jeez Carli,” Tyler shook his head as Bill arrived with the beers, “always with your silly games.”
“Yep, Carli’s just out for some fresh gossip,” smiled Jake taking the other stool.
“I’m bored out of my mind… just, just give me something.”
“How can you be bored, you listen to high school gossip all day…”
“Exactly, I’m so tired of all the high school bullshit. Give me some grown up gossip. So is the girlfriend a suspect. You think she snuck behind him and killed him with an axe?”
“What, who told you about the girlfriend?” Tyler was shocked, “this investigation is supposed to be under wraps…”
“And what axe? There was no murder weapon other than the guy’s own gun, which of course didn’t seem like it’d been fired.”
Carli’s face fell, “Oh, just a gun? An axe would have been so much cooler.”
“Jesus Carli, stay away from our investigation.”
“Oh come on don’t be such a baby. I got talking to Linda from dispatch.”
“How exactly did you get talking to Linda?”
“She came by to get her son from detention and asked if I could keep him for an extra hour next week. Guess, she wants him out of the house, whatevs. In two minutes, she coughed it all up.”
“Wait, you running detention now, what happened to guidance counselling?”
“Oh yeah, in a couple of years I’ll be running the whole darn school… you wait and see.”
“Nah, she probably got bumped down from guidance counselling.”
“Haha, Carli got detented.”
“
Detented
is not a word.”
“What about loser, that a word?”
“Fuck you.”
“Haha, Carli you’re such a loser.”
“I said, fuck you.”
“So Carli, why’d you get detented down to detention?”
“Probably due to all the
guidance
and
counselling
she provided that Monson kid.”
“Shut up.”
“Guiding a high school kid into stealing an armored truck and using it to transport marijuana across three stateliness… and then the douche runs out of gas in front of the Salt Lake City DEA office. Still amazed you managed to keep your job, Carli.”
“I said let it go, that was so last year.”
“Hello, is that Miss Finch…
hey sweetie boy, what’s up
… umm, Miss Finch I think I ran out of gas, these heavy suckers drink like a gallon a mile…
don’t sweat it sweetie boy, I’ll wire you the money
… I love you and respect you Miss Finch…
I love you too sweetie boy
… thank you Miss Finch…
you can call me Carli, sweetie boy…
haha.”
“Shut the fuck up. Shut up. I never said any of those things, the whole thing was an honest mistake. I never advised him to go steal an armored truck and the dimwit said nothing about growing pot in his backyard. Said he was going to supply flowers to weddings. Told me he was trying to break into the wedding floral industry.”
“The best part, at one of the weddings some drunk bridesmaid took delivery of it and paid three thousand bucks cash, that too from the bride’s father. Thought it was a real hoot.”
“Come on you guys, you know I would never do such a thing,” Carli continued with her vain protests.
“Yeah, yeah save it for someone like Bill over there. During the investigation, we had to go through all your sweet nothings in one weekend… in one weekend… can you believe that.”
“Yeah, lost some of my best brain cells.”
“Carli has that effect on guys.”
“Screw you guys. Everyone from the school district to County to the freakin Board of Ethics has cleared me. I am so over this bullshit,” Carli slammed her beer and stormed out for a smoke.
Getting under Carli’s skin never grew old for Lone Lake’s young deputies. Watching her storm off always brought a chuckle and a deep sense of contentment to their sad little hearts.
“That was so Carli.”
“And so predictable.”
Tyler turned to Jake, “So how’d it go with County and the shotgun. Are they gonna process it anytime soon?”
“No, seems like the organizers of Moshpit want to do a repeat next week. So County is all in this time and the festival’s been given top priority.”
“Big bucks eh?”
“Yeah the pot tax alone is bound to deliver a new Bell 505…”
“Sweet Jesus,” whistled Tyler.
“But rumor has it, Chief Perkins is against choppers. Thinks choppers look like honey bees and are for wuzzies.”
“Yeah I’m with him on that. Jets are cool. Choppers not so much.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, they play a very important role in a range of areas…”
“Like what?”
“Firefighting, search and rescue, pursuit of people leaving Los Angeles…”
“Ah, forget it. So what does County plan to do with the extra cash, give us a raise?”
Jake shook his head, “You wish. Perkins’ son-in-law owns a car dealership in Eugene. Worst case scenario, they flood the troops with new Chargers.”
“New Chargers?” Tyler lowered his beer, “Well, that doesn’t sound bad.”
“Yeah, not bad at all.”
“All hail the Chief,” Tyler raised his glass.
“Hail… hail.”
“We on the waitlist for one of those?” Tyler grimaced thinking about their forlorn ‘91 Caprice.
“Indeed my man, indeed,” said Jake as barman Bill came over to check on them.
“Anything else you boys want, something to eat perhaps… fries, wings?”
“Just another beer. Might get something later when my date arrives,” informed Tyler.
“Oh yeah, the date,” Jake looked at him, “so who’s the doomed damsel?”
“I don’t know, met her at the gas station the other day. Said she had just moved into town for some job somewhere.”
“Some job… somewhere, that’s all you got?”
“Yeah,” shrugged Tyler.
“Dude you’re a cop for Christ’s sake.”
“I don’t know, she was easy on the eye and wasn’t from around here. Good enough for me. Win-win.”
“What if she’s our serial killer?”
“Jesus,” Tyler sighed in exasperation, “again with your cockamamie theories about starter serial killers and precipice of history bullshit.” Four feet away, Bill the barman perked his ears at the magic words, “Did you guys just say
serial killer
?”
Tyler waved him away, “No, no. Jake and I, we were just discussing some theories… some pretty wild ones actually. Nothing to worry about.”
Like the regular dude that he was, Bill panicked immediately, “Shit, is this about that missing tourist at the inn. You guys think a serial killer cut him up?”
“Relax, Bill. First of all there is no serial killer. Plus this is an ongoing investigation and hence confidential police business. You could go to prison for sneaking up and spying on a Lone Lake Deputy.”
“Spying? Whaa…” staggered Bill, “Wait, so is there a serial killer running around town or not?”
“No Bill, no. Just relax.”
But Bill wouldn’t let it go, “Heard he’s into guys. What sorta guys he into… he into baldies like me… was the missing guy bald… what about sneakers… and hope he doesn’t like hoodies…”
“Bill dude, for the last time, relax. Go get us some wings… nachos and another pitcher,” Tyler warded off Bill before ripping into Jake, “The fuck is wrong with you dude? You’re about to creep out the town with all this serial killer bullshit…”
Before Jake could say it wasn’t bullshit, Tyler’s phone interrupted them with the arrival of a text. It was from Heather, his date from the gas station. She’d cancelled their date due to some unforeseen circumstances.
“Shit, date’s off.”
“Why, what’d she say?”
“Something about an unforeseen circumstance.”
“Makes sense. Bet she’s out there hiding the body right now…”
“Fuck you.”
“Right, she’s probably hacked him off already. Maybe she’s piling them up in her freezer.”
“So she’s a cannibal now?”
“What difference does it make? Serial killer, cannibal… it’s all one to me… all creepy as fuck.”
“What… difference? Seriously did you just say that?” Tyler stared at Jake in disbelief, “Get your genres sorted out asshole.”
Just then Bill returned with their fries and beer, “This one’s on the house guys… umm, I mean deputies. Appreciate all your hard work.”
“Appreciate your appreciation, Bill.”
“Don’t mention it. Hmm, the weather these days huh… it’s hot for a few months and then cold and then medium hot… I mean can you believe it,” after bringing up the weather for no reason, Bill let it slip casually, “So how many data points do you have on the killer’s profile?”
Tyler rubbed his forehead in frustration, “Bill, this isn’t CSI Miami.”
“No, of course not,” Bill replied evenly, “you guys are small town deputies. Like the ones on Sheriff Longmire.”
“Oh boy,” even Jake was beginning to regret his serial killer angle on the investigation. Perhaps he should have gone easy. But in his defense he’d simply tried to spice up a mundane Wednesday.
But Bill wasn’t done, “In your case, the Sheriff’s outta town, which makes you the big dudes. But that show also has a fowl mouthed chick. She’s kinda hot but annoying as hell, swears way too much. Kinda like Carli, but way hotter.”
“No… don’t bring up Carli.”
“Anyways you guys got a profile or not?”
Tyler gave up, “No Bill, we don’t have one. The Sheriff’s outta town and the County is busy with the Moshpit…”
“But guys… I mean deputies, you gotta do everything to create this profile. Profiles are the like super important in catching serial killers.”
“Exactly,” Carli said making a grand entrance or rather a reentrance. “Thank you Bill that was exactly my point. If you guys cut me in on the deal, I’ll be able to whip up a profile in no time. No time at all,” Carli snapped her fingers for emphasis.
Falling for her theatrics, Bill caved, “Wow Carli, you for real? Can you actually profile this guy?”
“Yes, of course. I am a trained guidance counsellor in a premier institution of learning and I come across a wide variety of characters… society’s misfits… the lemons… the oranges… the square pegs…”
“Bullshit,” sniggered Tyler.
“I’m a keen observer of the human psyche… its desires… fears… pains… thrills… and most importantly what turns it into a monster…”
“Monsters? Thought you wanted to profile a serial killer.”
“Bill, it’s a figure of speech.”
While Bill lapped up the pseudo-babble, Tyler gagged, “Jesus H. Christ. Carli, you are a barely employable, once suspended, guidance counsellor who advises kids to go into dealing pot.”
“Fuck you, Tyler.”
But Bill wouldn’t have it. He latched onto Carli like she was some culty prophet, “Guys, come on she does have a degree from college.
From college.
”
Before the deputies could frame a convincing counter argument, Carli smiled triumphantly, “Well that settles it. Bill get me a notepad.”
“No, it doesn’t. County has professional psychiatrists and profilers. If they can’t crack it, they go up to Denver. Then Chicago. Or probably DC. What I’m saying is, there’s a whole chain of command in place for situations like these…,” Tyler desperately tried to prevent a train wreck at an airport.
“Sorry Carli, all we got are these napkins,” Bill held up a bunch of napkins with the Kitty’s logo.
Carli snatched it, “Perfect. Now you got a pen?”
“What sort of profiler doesn’t even carry a pen? You’re the worst profiler in the history of profilers aren’t you,” said Tyler. With his Heather date nullified, Tyler suddenly had the entire evening wide open and decided to actually allow this train wreck at an airport in slomo.
“Jake, you got a pen?”
“Nope, but I got this app on my phone for taking notes.” Even in small towns like Lone Lake, no one carried pens these days. Not even cops.
“But I prefer freestyling on paper. Typing is so impersonal,” Carli vexed.
As Carli’s scheme teetered on the verge of collapse, Bill saved the day by producing a box of chalk, “Carli, you could use this on the board.”
“What board?”
There was only one board at Kitty’s Roadhouse and it was the big black board on the wall with the menu.
“You sure that’s a good idea, Bill?” asked Jake.
“Yeah, yeah go ahead.”
“Won’t your other patrons object?”
“Who Monroe and his friend? They’re cool,” Bill assured them about the old timers, “they can’t see this far. Wonder if they can even see each other’s faces.”
“Walt won’t say anything?” even Carli seemed unsure. Perhaps the joke had gone too far.
“Nah go ahead. I’ll rewrite it before he comes in tomorrow. We’re all good.” Bill rapped his knuckles on the bar, “Carli, go on… get on top of the bar.”
“What, just like that?”
“Yeah.”
“You got no ladders?”
“Don’t be silly. You just gotta lean in.”
Jake kicked off his boots and settled back. He realized it was going to be a long night. Mimicking his partner, Tyler ordered another round of beers, “Bill, two more beers… wait, make it two pitchers… two fries… extra-large.”
After tucking in her t-shirt, Carli cautiously climbed up the bar.
***
With a calligraphic scribble-ability that only women seemed to possess, Carli screeched out the words, ‘
Lone Lake Killer – An Introductory Profile
’.
Down under Tyler remarked, “Damn, still can’t believe that Heather cancelled on me.”
“Who’s Heather?” asked Bill.
“Yeah, she was pretty too,” Carli said from above.
“You know her?” asked Tyler a little surprised.
“Met her while I was out smoking.”
“What… so she came here?”
“Oh yeah, we spoke for a while. New in town. Works for Dr. Sanderson as a dental assistant.”
“Aha, she’s a dentist. Told you she’s not a serial killer,” Tyler punched Jake’s shoulder, “But wait, so why’d she leave?”
Jake shrugged “According to the FBI almanac, all serial killers have menial day jobs to feed their inner demons.”
“Jesus Christ, dude.”
“Yeah, it’s usually something related to dentists or truck drivers. Something about those professions… probably the unions.”