by Rick Murcer
“I’ll need that girl’s information.”
Evelyn looked to the ceiling then back to Manny. “It was me. He was talking to me. Okay? I kicked him out and that’s the last I saw of him…until…now.”
Sophie had regained her composure. “Scout’s honor? Because we’re going to go over the security tapes and we don’t want any surprises.”
The tall blonde made eye contact with the other security guard and shifted her feet nervously. Manny didn’t like what he saw.
“There...ahh...was a problem with the system’s cameras last night, and we didn’t get the whole night on video.”
The club had committed one too many violations to suit the city and as a condition of keeping the doors opened, was required to keep sixty days of security tape, inside and out, in archive. Although the outside cameras didn’t cover that area of the parking lot, Manny thought there could have been information that might help.
“That could be grounds to shut you down, you know that, right?” asked Manny.
“I know. I know. And they were working fine until just before he left. Then we got this snowy screen, like interference or something, and they just stopped recording, but they came back on like nothing ever happened right before we closed up. The camera company said they couldn’t find anything wrong and that sometimes the system just gets bottled up.” She looked at Manny, then Sophie. “Scout’s honor.”
“We’ll need the tape anyway, statements from all of the employees who worked last night, and a complete list of all employees.”
She nodded and folded her arms over her ample breasts. Causing the tats to change shape.
“Did you notice anyone unusual or out of the ordinary?”
Evelyn stared at Manny. “No, not in here. Our clientele is the salt of the earth. Cops, firemen, preachers, social workers, you know, all pillars of the community.”
“Okay smart-ass. You know what I mean. But maybe you could concentrate better down at the station.”
“Sorry. Really. I get like this when I’m nervous. We’ve had some stuff go on in here, but nothing like that junk outside.”
She looked at the counter, and then Manny watched her eyes grow big.
“Wait. There was this one chick. At least I think it was a chick. Tall, thin, wearing all black, face covered with a hoodie. The real weird part was the black gloves. I couldn’t see the hands. People walk in here hoping no one will recognize them, she made sure.”
“Good girl. What time?”
“Right after my dinner break, so just about 1:00 or so, I think. She might be on the video before it crashed.”
“That could be helpful. One more question. Do you own a gun?”
Evelyn blinked her eyes, looked at the floor, then back to Manny and Sophie. “Yes. I have a permitted handgun, Smith and Wesson .38. But I keep it in the bedroom at my apartment.”
“We may want to see it, but I think we’re done, for now. We’ll set up interview times for your people and make sure they show up, okay?”
“Okay.”
Manny watched a small smile form on Evelyn’s face and her blue eyes began to twinkle.
“Now. I have a question for you, Detective Williams.”
“Fire away.”
“It takes a big gun to set off that metal detector. Just how big is your…weapon?”
Sophie released a belly laugh that caused Manny’s face to turn an even deeper shade of red. But he grinned anyway.
“Cute. It’s still not too late to shut this place down.”
“Yes sir. I don’t get good-looking cops in here very often and…”
“Just get us what we asked for, and don’t dink around.” He grabbed Sophie’s arm and ushered her out the door.
“Was that your doing?” he steamed.
“No, no. I think she likes you, and she’s the kind of woman who doesn’t beat around the bush. Sometimes, you slay me. You’re the best detective I’ve ever seen, but when it comes to most women, you’re clueless. Really.”
“Not one word to any…”
Manny’s cell rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and cocked his head when he saw who the call was from. Eric Hayes. Second ring. The call seemed to carry a sense of urgency that forced Manny to feel uncomfortable. He answered anyway.
“Manny Williams here.” No response.
“Eric, is that you?”
There was another moment of silence then Hell came calling.
“Detective Williams. How good to hear your voice.”
He froze in mid-stride, unable to speak. Dr. Fredrick Argyle was on Eric Hayes’s cell phone.
