Terror In Reno

by Darryl Harrison

  Well the Sea Crest was one of the best seafood restaurants in town. The delicious shrimp platters specials were everyone’s favorite. The place was only four years old and already sensation. Next to the pet shop was on S. Virginia Street and Boston eatery. The Park Lane Mall was down the street. This was a hella beautiful area.

  He walked around the restaurant looking for Tangy. He hoped she hadn’t left. He probably would’ve. The place looked like an old sea movie set. There were sailboat everywhere, big-ass dead crabs, fish, whales, sharks, a huge stuffed pirates standing around everywhere hella scary looking. There were lifejackets too. The place was hella busy for a Monday night but since this was the best spot in town to kick it, he wasn’t surprised.

  He found Tangy in the back by the kitchen. She was along and frowning. She had eaten most of her seafood platter. A half full bottle of red wine sat in a bucket of ice. She was wearing a slick silk black dress. Her hair was looking like a big beehive. Keith wore a long white shirt and baggy dark jeans.

  He sat there going over the menu but already knew what he wanted. There was lots of noise coming from the kitchen. Miss Miller stared with her moldering green eyes at Keith as he placed the menu back down on the table. He pour him self some wine.

  “Bruh, I know what I want,” he said sharply with a smirk.

  “Do you know what time it is?” She snapped, pushing her platter away.

  “Dude I know I’m hella late and I’m sorry,” he said strongly, sipping his wine.

  “You’re two hours and thirty minutes late,” she screamed sharply.

  “I told your butt I was sorry. The DMV, their slow as hell,” he said strongly with a thug tone.

  “Bruh I wonder why? The DMV did get a facelift.”

  “I know. They should be hella faster. After all, we paid hella high taxes for this. We own that joint. You feel me?”

  He poured wine in her glass before pouring some in he’s. She seemed ready to leave. And the waiter was coming over.

  The lights were dim to make it more romantic. He scooted over to Tangy and put his arms around. She seemed like she didn’t want to be bothered. He tried to kiss her but she backed away.

  “I’m sorry, boo,” he said softly.

  “Yeh.”

  “You taste better than the wine,” he said cheerfully.

  “I’m sorry about this table.”

  “Hell yeh. We’re practically in the kitchen. But I’m not tripping. Besides there are no more tables,” he said sharply and took a long swig from his wine.

  Every table was full. All the food servers were running around like chickens cut off. And the lines at the door were miles long, leaving folks standing as far back as the parking lot. And some folks were getting hella pissed. Hostesses were trying to calm folks down.

  “Where’s our waiter?” Keith screamed.

  “Here take mine. I haven’t been too hungry.”

  “Well, why not?”

  He pushed her platter over to himself. And was already digging into the platter.

  “What is this?”

  “Oh this? It’s a file. I’ve been working on it for you,” she stated firmly.

  “So what’s up?”

  “That necklace is evil, dude. One of the palm readers I know said that the blood in the eye represents the rebirth of the wolf. And the one who wears it becomes cursed.”

  “Well that explains why a clown could savagely murder a woman,” he said, chewing on a shrimp.

  “A clown?” she snapped, looking puzzled.

  “Yeh, our latest victim was slain by a clown.”

  “Well see what I mean, gee.”

  All the servers were cruising by wearing sailor uniforms. They dotted back and forth carrying trays full of food. And made some quick jokes with each other.

  A black waiter approached the table. He looked a bouncer with a clean-shaven head. And a shin mustache.

  “What’s up man?”

  “You’re hella busy tonight, bruh?” Keith said cheerfully.

  “Bruh it’s like this every night.”

  “How the Lakers’?”

  “Damn the Lakers’. I’m digging Chicago,” he said sharply with a smirk.

  “Them cats play good ball out there too,” he said firmly.

  “What is it you want to eat bruh?”

  “Fetch me another shrimp platter bro-bro,” Keith snapped.

  “All right,” he said as he wrote it down on a notepad. “Anything to drink?”

  “Get me a beer!”

  “All right. Anything for you baby?”

  “Hell nah!”

  “All right,” he said sharply and hustled back to the kitchen.

  “Why don’t you drink some of that water too?” he snapped, sipping his wine.

  “I will.”

  “Is all that stuff true about that necklace?”

  “Well I don’t know bro! The necklace is The Bleeder eye of The Demon. Whoever looks in the eye will be cursed. And must eat the flesh of the neck of lounge singers to receive immortality and break the curse,” she explained clearly.

  “What else would break the curse?”

  “Death!”

  “Death?”

  “You have to kill him dude.”

  “How many singers?”

  “Maybe ten.”

  The waiter came out of nowhere and placed the platter on the table. He quickly opened the bottle and pour into the glasses. Keith ignored him. He didn’t say anything to him either. There were just too busy to do anything. He quickly finished and left.

  The smell of clams hit the dinning room hard. He smelled great and wanted to change his order.

  “Bruh I think this whole affair is bull! That guy is hella crazy. That’s all. You feel me?” he said harshly as he shoved huge shrimps into his mouth.

  “I don’t know bruh. But we have a killer out there who believes this stuff and his live has been changed,” she said strongly, sipping wine.

  Keith washed down the food with a bottle of Miller beer.

  “You notice this dude strikes at night,” he said sharply.

  “That’s probably why.”

  “Nah. This crazy creature works days,” he said strongly and took a big swig of beer.

  “And everybody so far worked at casinos. There must be some connection there. “

  “Well he wouldn’t be dressed like a clown at work.”

  “Well I don’t think he or she would be that ignorant.”

  “But not just lounge singers perform in casinos, baby,” he said strongly.

  “Yeh I’ll make a note of that,” she said firmly.

  “How does the killer know where the singers are?” he asked.

  “That creepy necklace.”

  “Is there more of these cursed folks?”

  “Could be.”

  “Where do we find the dude?”

  “He’s probably under are noses, bruh.”

  “I know who he is?”

  “Who?”

  “Miss Gady’s brother.”

  “Are sure?”

  “I’m not sure about anything yet.”

  “What are you going to do know?”

  “I’m flying to Oakland to see Miss Gady’s brother. I have to sow up all possible leads,” he said finishing up his platter.

  “How can he help?”

  “Keep looking into that necklace stuff.”

  “Did the clown leave any evidence?”

  “Hell yeh. It’s being analyzed at the crime lab.”

  “Be careful I hear Oakland’s really rough.”

  “I’m even rougher, baby-girl,” he snapped sharply.

  “Have a safe trip!”

  Chapter 35

  Gady Iron Works Inc. was a big grey building with tinted windows. There was a lot of men burning iron to make strange shapes for many companies. The noise was hella loud. The smell of burning metal was burning Keith’s nose. Most of the men weren’t wearing shirts. And they were hella built. They were hammering on
smoldering sticks of red metal, making shapes. Loads of sweat was pouring out of the men. He was sure Tangy would like to me here.

  Keith wore an orange hoody, and large black jeans. He had a joint dangling from his horrid mouth. He had his gun. It was somewhat chilly there. It seemed like every time Keith came to Oakland it was cool.

  He lit he’s joint and strolled up to the first man he saw. He was holding a clipboard standing next to a pile of iron.

  “Excuse me, bruh!” Keith said firmly.

  The homeboy looked like a wrestler and was capable of squashing him. He looked at him with cold brown eyes.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m looking for Gady,” Keith said strongly and took a long drag from his joint.

  “Yeh. He’s in the office I’ll get him,” he said sharply and walked off towards a building.

  Keith stood there smoking his weed, watching ironworkers load iron on big trucks using some sorta crane. They were making hella noise.

  Then two big black men were walking towards him. Those cats weren’t smiling. And the man with the clipboard was coming back but without the clipboard. He was now carrying a blowtorch. Gady wasn’t with them. Something was starting to pop-off.

  Behind him was the sound of a big engine. He turned to see. A big truck was coming at him. Keith just stood there expecting the truck to veer off. But he kept coming faster like a truck on steroids. Keith finally dived out of the way landing hard on the dirt. The truck urged on slamming into a pile of iron. The iron bars tumbled down loudly onto the hood of the truck smashing the front-end. Steam came out of the truck’s engine. The driver was knocked out from the blow. Lucky not to have been killed.

  Well Keith got up from the ground his hoody dirty and jeans. He took out his gun. The guy with the torch came forward.

  “I’m going to roast you brother,” he said brazenly.

  “Not today, bro-bro,” Keith stated strongly.

  The man waved to blowtorch at Keith several times. And Keith backed away. The man kept charging. Keith danced around looking around him at the two black dudes that were closing in.

  Keith shot the man with the blowtorch in the leg and he went down with the torch. The torch still lit caught the man’s pants and he was on fire.

  The man with the blowtorch got up quickly running and screaming. One of the black men ran after him. The man dropped to the ground and started rolling. The black man grabbed a jacket and began striking the burning man to put out the flames.

  Another worker Mexican threw a punch at Keith, missing. Keith did his spin kick into the man’s chest and he flew back.

  The other black man grabbed Keith from behind because he was trying to defeat the Mexican dude. He was chocking Keith as he held his hand with the gun back so he couldn’t shot him as what Keith was trying very hard to do.

  The struggle ended when Keith bit the black dude in the arm. The man yelled and let go of Keith. But when Keith raised the gun the man kicked it out of his hand and it flew onto the ground. Keith charged the man tackling him down to the ground. Keith was on top of him punching the punk into the face. The other black man came back and kicked Keith in the face. Keith fell backwards.

  While Keith was lying on his back, the black man kept kicking him in the side. Until Keith finally grabbed the man’s foot and twisted it, he screamed and fell back.

  As Keith was trying to get up the black man swung his leg at Keith’s head, missing. And the man seemed to lose his balance when he tried the same thing again that’s when Keith rolled under his legs and the man fell backwards.

  Well the fight was interrupted when an angry man approached them. He seemed to be of authority. Keith figured it was probably Gady.

  “Who the hell are you?” Keith snapped sharply getting up from the ground.

  “I’m the damn owner, punk,” he snapped sharply.

  “Gady?” Keith said strongly reaching to pick up his gun.

  “Hell yes. What are you doing on my site fighting with my workers,” Gady stated harshly.

  “I’m Keith Jackson. I’m a private investigator,” Keith stated sharply.

  “A private dick?”

  “Hell yeh.”

  “If you’re here about my sister I already know,” he stated sharply.

  “I think you killed her, man,” Keith said sharply, brushing the dirt off his clothes.

  “Go on get your butts back to work. Look at my truck! And Troy. Get him a doctor!”

  “Troy tried to kill my butt!” Keith said bluntly.

  “Well you’d better call first before coming.”

  “For sure.”

  Then Keith punched him in the face with the gun handle. He yelled out, holding on to his nose.

  “You black punk! I think you broken my nose,” he said coldly as blood ran through his fingers.

  “It takes more than a couple of goons to take me out baby,” Keith said coldly.

  “I don’t dig folks that hassle my workers.”

  “Bruh I only wanted to talk to you Gee.”

  “I didn’t kill my sister!”

  Keith took out the necklace.

  “Is this yours?”

  “No. I don’t wear that sorta stuff.”

  “So the creepy stuff ain’t your seen.”

  “No dude!”

  “The noise!”

  Keith put the necklace back in his pocket.

  “Let’s go into my office.”

  They strolled over to the trailer where his office was supposed to be. Gady unlocked the door, pull it back, and stepped inside. Keith followed closing the door behind. The soundproof trailer removed the outside noise greatly.

  Keith sat down on a dirty sofa by the window. Gady hurried over to a MR. COFFEE Maker, sitting on a white table in the corner by a window. He poured himself a cup.

  “You were in Reno?” Keith snapped sharply.

  “Hell yeh. I went there to see my sister perform,” he said firmly, sipping on coffee.

  “You’re wanted for a hit & run there,” Keith said firmly, placing a joint in his mouth.

  Gady’s desk was full of papers and stuff. In addition, a cell phone, and laptops were open and running. There was a water machine by an empty coat rack. The place smelled like a thousand hog farts and years of real strong white man’s sweat.

  “That’s right. But nothing will stop me from see my sister sang,” he said strongly, placing some Jack Daniels in his coffee.

  “Dude I heard you were arguing with your sister.”

  “None of your business dude!”

  “I need to know dude,” Keith insisted strongly and took a huge drag from his joint.

  “Bug off, dude!” he said harshly and took a long swig of coffee.

  “You’re getting hella stupid, bruh. Don’t let me bust that pretty nose open,” Keith said bitterly, blowing smoke in Gady’s face.

  “Money! Well we argue often about it. See my business is having financial problems,” he said sadly and took a sip of coffee.

  “I thought iron was in demand.”

  “Not lately.”

  “Your sister has money?” Keith said sharply and took a long hit from his joint.

  “Hell yes. She got it from touring,” he said strongly, pouring himself more coffee.

  A black woman in a tight red dress came in a dropped more tan folders on a cluttered desk and walked out with a smile.

  “More work? I’ll never get out of here,” Gady snapped with a smile.

  “Do you wear clown clothes?” Keith asked firmly.

  “Is that a joke, punk?”

  “I’m hella serious!”

  “No.”

  “Do you wear jewelry?”

  “Yeh, a cross. But I must have lost it. Certainly not that evil crappy necklace you showed me.”

  Keith took the bottle of Jack Daniels and took a long guzzle and placed it back on the desk. Gady made an ugly face to show he didn’t like that.

  “After you finished arguing with your sister what did you
do next?” Keith asked firmly.

  “I went home. I drove back to Vegas,” he stated sharply, pouring more Jack Daniels.

  “Open your mouth.”

  “No!”

  Keith hurried over to Gady . He grabbed hold of him as he held a cup of coffee and lifted him out of his chair. He threw his coffee in Keith’s face. He yelled, letting go. Keith wiped his face of coffee, which wasn’t very hot. Gady struck Keith hard in the face and shoved him into the wall. Then Gady went for a shotgun by his desk. Keith produced a gun, aiming it at Gady’s head.

  “Don’t do it baby! Dude I’ll blow off the back of your head,” Keith said gruffly.

  Gady left the shotgun be and backed away from the desk. He turned around slowly. And opened his mouth no sure why. Keith studied his teeth for a minute and his throat. He made an ugly face because of Gady’s breath. Then he let go of his jaw.

  “What the hell!”

  “All right. You don’t have any sharp teeth. So thanks big dog,” Keith said strongly, heading for the door.

  “Up yours, man!” Gady stated fiercely.

  Keith found a McDonald’s in Oakland. All the bull-crap made him hella hungry. The place was busy for breakfast. The faces of the workers were mostly brown and black. Keith had an egg McMuffin and coffee. He sat in a dirty place by the window next to a black woman wearing a black dress like she came from a funeral.

  “The A’s are hella fly, you know?” he said cheerfully.

  “The A’s suck bro-bro!” she snapped.

  “Two black boys ran over to his table and stuck their tongue out at him. And ran back to their fat mother.

  Chapter 36

  Well Keith was back at Brook Bear Hospital looking after his aunt Natalie who was still in a cast on her arm, leg and butt. He saw in her face how desperate she was to go home. The doctor wouldn’t let her unless someone could watch over her. She didn’t like the idea she preferred to be alone.

  He was wearing a black jersey with the number 15 on it. A big gold chain around his neck, and faded baggy jeans. He strolled down the hall of the hospital, smacking nurses on the booty as he made it towards the exit.

  He went back to the car to fetch the roses he bought his aunt. The rain had started again just then. He retrieved the roses and ran back towards the glass doors of the hospital just like every person was forced to do unless they wanted to get wet.

  Keith stepped inside the room. His aunt was in a sitting position. And Hollywood Squares was blasting out of a small black & white TV screen. She was content but more so when she gazed eyes upon Keith.

  “Well, well. Look at you, little boo-boo,” she said excitedly.

  “You look hella fly,” he said cheerfully.