by P. A. Wilson
Monique swallowed her first reaction. She hated talking about her father, but Didi remembered the good times. That’s because he hadn’t been the first one home on that day.
Didi didn’t need her to fight with him. He needed her support. “Yes, I remember, now let’s not talk about that any longer. Tomorrow I’ll take you to rehab. And I’ll pick you up when it’s done.”
An image of Didi floated into her mind. He was lying in that pool of blood. If he was getting involved with the kind of people who could do that, he was in more trouble than she feared.
CHAPTER 4
It took hours to check Didi into the clinic. Monique refused to just drop him off and leave. By the time they finished, and she drove all the way back to Vancouver, and the club, there was barely time to warm up. She started working through her voice exercises, thinking, as usual, that she should quit smoking so she could save some time on this.
“Sounding a bit tight there, kid.” Tess handed Monique a glass of water, warm and flavored with honey.
Monique swallowed the drink slowly, letting it soothe her throat. “Yeah, life’s been a big pile of crap. Didi finally got to rock bottom. Some guy got murdered across from me. I had to deal with the cops.” Shittier for Didi and Alexi.
“Sounds like you might need the night off. If you do, decide now so I can get someone to fill in. Julie isn’t as good as you, but she’s usually up for an extra gig.” As far as Tess was concerned, the club came first. She owned it, and managed half the acts that performed there.
Monique shook her head. She needed the money from the gig and, more importantly, when she sang all the crap in her life faded away. “I’m good. I thought we’d start with a bit of pop jazz, warm up the audience. Loosen up the guys.”
Tess laughed. Monique heard a touch of acid in the sound. “Sure, sugar. Just make sure they love you. It sells drinks when they do.”
Nodding, Monique went back to her vocal exercises. Tess patted Monique’s arm and then wandered out to the club. No doubt to harass some busboy about a poorly placed candle.
While she ran through scales, Monique couldn’t put aside the thought that she had diminished Alexi’s death with her comment. Telling herself that the police would take care of the investigation, and that would get him justice, didn’t dampen the acid building in her stomach. She couldn’t let that get in the way. She needed to relax, or it would come out in the songs. Heartbreak would be fine, it could make a listener cry. But guilt just soured the notes. Guilt about a stranger was a stupid way to ruin an evening, and she didn’t feel guilt. She didn’t feel anything for anyone. Didi’s face flashed into her mind. She snapped her fingers to clear the thoughts, and focused on the exercises.
Twenty minutes later, Ray, the piano player, looked into the room. “Are you done warming up? We need to get back in here. You know Tess doesn’t want any of us out in the club when the room starts to fill.”
Monique checked her watch before slipping it into her pocket – shiny things caught the stage lights – ten minutes until they were officially supposed to play the first note. That meant they had at least twenty minutes until Tess ordered them on stage. A little impatience meant a few more rounds at the bar. Tess may not be the warmest person Monique knew, but she knew how to make a buck.
“It’s a good night for some sad songs, Monique,” Ali said as he poured a shot of whiskey into his coffee mug. “How about we start with Cry Me a River?”
“You love the tear jerking songs, Ali,” she said. “Maybe we should end with that – send them home to a good cry?”
Ali played the double bass in the combo. The sax player, Wes, completed the trio with Ray. They had all been playing jazz almost as long as Monique had been alive.
Ali narrowed his eyes. “You look like you need to sing something more like It’s a Wonderful World. What’s got you down?”
Did she want to tell them? Maybe it would get this shit out of her head. “Didi checked into rehab today.” They didn’t need to hear about the rest of it. It felt like this part of her life could be safe from death and blood.
Wes rubbed his arm. Monique knew that he struggled with his own addiction, checking in to rehab every couple of years only to fall off the wagon eventually. “It’s hard, Monique. When you try to stop chasing the dragon, it comes looking for you. It helps to know someone believes you can do it.”
“I know, Wes. I hope he can. I really do. It’s just that I don’t think he will.”
Monique could see the memory of his last detox flash across his face as Wes looked away. “It’s going to be bad tonight. He’ll probably be feeling the beginning of the sweats and depression. It gets easier. No, that’s not right. Not easier, but less violent.”
The thought of Didi curled up on a hospital bed, tightened Monique’s heart. “What can I do? How can I help him stay sober when it’s done?”
Ray patted her arm. “You can’t do anything. This is between Didi and the dragon. Believe me I’ve learned that the hard way.” He wrapped his arm around Wes. “Haven’t I, babe?”
“When I said we should start with a sad song, I meant a song, not real life. You three are bringing me down.” Ali offered the whiskey bottle around. “I get the idea that Didi isn’t your only problem, Monique. I mean you look like you been strung on a line and left in the rain. You have a fight with Rafe?”
Monique sighed. “Yeah, but that’s just the usual. We’ll be fine in a couple of days, or we won’t. I can deal with that.” Realizing she couldn’t separate her two worlds, she told them about the murder. “I think the cops are going to back burner his case. They seemed happy to leave his apartment empty until I called about the break in. And I’m worried that Didi might be involved somehow.” She saw the surprise on their faces. “No, not that he would be the killer. Oh God, no. I think maybe he gets his drugs from these people.”
Tess strode into the room. “Five minutes. I hope you paid for that bottle, Ali.”
He held up a hand. “Of course, Tess, I wouldn’t want you to lose the profit. We’ll be out on time, don’t worry.”
She clicked her tongue in disgust. “Be sure you are.” Then she spun and left them.
Wes watched Tess leave and then turned to Monique. “If he’s buying drugs from them, and that’s all, he should be okay. Do you think he’s selling?”
“I hope not.”
“If he is using, they won’t let him into the organization,” Wes said.
Monique stretched her arms over her head and filled her lungs. Talking with the guys had lifted some of the weight of the last day. “I’ll keep good thoughts. Okay, no more depressing talk. Let’s do that set we were practicing last week, you know, the kind of creepy obsessive songs.”
“Sounds good,” Wes said. “I’m going out for a smoke, anyone else coming?”
All three men went to the alley to indulge. Monique never smoked before performing. She’d savor the post gig cigarette in a couple of hours. She picked up her purse to lock it away for the night and heard the phone ringing. She dug into the bottom and retrieved it by the fourth ring. It was an unknown number.
Sliding the bar to answer, she said, “Hello?”
“Nique? It’s me.”
“Didi, I thought you were supposed to be off-line for at least a week.” She knew this call wasn’t approved. And there was no way this was going to be good.
“Yeah, well, I left the rehab place. Don’t get mad, Nique. I have a better idea.”
She pressed her lips together to keep from speaking. Wes was right. It was up to Didi to deal with this. If he wasn’t ready, nothing she could say would make it work. She swallowed the tightness in her throat before it undid all her warming up.
“I saw some of the other people when I checked in, Nique. It was like a loony bin. I couldn’t sleep. Someone is always screaming or moaning.”
“What’s the plan, Didi? You wanted to kick this, so what’s the new plan?” She glanced at the clock. Tess would be calling them in a couple
of minutes. “I’ve got to start the set soon.” Why was he still able to talk so clearly? If he’d just left rehab, he should still be feeling the pain. As she thought the question through, Monique knew the answer – he was high.
“Okay, I heard about this rapid detox thing, like they can do it in a few hours, or maybe a day.” He started coughing, and it turned into a fit. Finally getting control of it, he continued, “I called in a favor and I can go in tomorrow. It’s a good plan, right?”
If he could get off the drugs fast, would it be better? “Who is doing you this favor? Are you sure it’s legit?”
“Yeah it’s Andy. You remember him? You’ll never believe it. He was working in the clinic. He’s a doctor. Who would have thought?”
Andy was Didi’s best friend from elementary school. Monique had thought they were out of touch. “Yeah, I remember. Okay, where are you spending the night? Do you need my couch?” She would hope for the best with this, and prepare for the worst.
“No, I don’t want you to see me this way, Nique. Andy said I could crash at his place, and he’d take me in. Can you keep my stuff?”
“Of course. How do I get hold of you, Didi? Do you want your phone?” She assumed he had a phone in the bags he’d brought.
“No, Nique. I’ll call you and leave Andy’s number. If you need me, call him. I gotta go.”
“Didi, before you go.” Monique waited until Didi responded. “Tell me the truth. Did you know the guy across the hall from me?”
There was a pause before Didi said, “No. I swear.”
He’d said those words too many times in the past for Monique to trust him, but it wasn’t the time to argue. She’d wait until he was clean before she asked again. “Okay. Be careful, Didi. Remember what you told me. You don’t want to go back to turning tricks right?”
“Yeah, Nique. I’ll call you when I’m clean. Have a good show.” His words were broken up as though he was shivering. Before she could ask, he ended the call.
Monique slid her phone back into her purse and locked it in the drawer. She pressed her hands into the desktop and blew out all the frustration she felt. Knowing she couldn’t stop Didi from ruining his life didn’t help her accept it. Drawing on the memory of the feeling she got when she sang, a feeling of power and purity, Monique put everything away that didn’t help her sing. When she sang nothing could touch her.
“Ready?” Wes’s voice settled over her with the first traces of calm.
“Right behind you. Let’s go break some hearts.”
CHAPTER 5
Monique put the microphone on the stand as she let the last note fade. The warmth of the applause flowed over her. “That’s it for tonight, friends. Order a new round, and get ready for Dr. Jay and the Sliders. They’ll be out in a few minutes. Good night and sweet dreams.”
The set had done its magic. She was loose and ready for a late night. If she wasn’t mad at Rafe, this was when she’d join him at his table, but he wasn’t in the club. As it was, she wanted to stay here, have a drink, and enjoy the next set. If the guys wanted to leave, she’d sit at the bar by herself. She walked off stage as Ray played a few riffs on the piano.
Dr. Jay and his musicians were warming up in the back room, but they shifted into the hall to let Monique and the others collect their stuff.
“Anyone up for Dr. Jay’s first set?” she asked, as she grabbed her cigarettes from her purse.
Wes pulled on his jacket. “Sorry, we have to go, early appointment.” He packed his sax and followed Ray out.
“Ali?”
“I got a late gig at the Regent, sorry.”
“No sweat. Have a great gig.” She locked the drawer again, looking down so they couldn’t see her disappointment. “See you next time.”
The back door of the club was left unlocked so staff and entertainers could grab a smoke without mixing with the customers, who indulged in front of the club. There was no handle on the outside of the door, so everyone propped it open with a rubber stop. The rain had stopped, leaving the alley filled with puddles, and the trash flattened into sodden mush. Monique lit up and stood under the tiny overhang.
Now that it was time to leave, she realized why she wanted to stay. She didn’t much want to go home to an empty apartment. It no longer felt like her haven. The murder wasn’t the only thing that spoiled it. Anxiety about that creepy guy coming back was plucking at her nerves. And she was pissed off at Didi, but she would still worry about him. Unwinding with a couple of drinks was the best idea she had to smooth her nerves. When she was unwound, she’d go home and sleep.
She took the last drag and flicked the butt into a puddle. A glass of wine, maybe three. She was walking, so it didn’t matter how much she drank. Well, legally it didn’t matter, but she wasn’t stupid enough to get drunk and walk home.
The club was full, so Monique slid onto a stool at the end of the bar. A glass of red wine appeared in front of her before she had to ask. She nodded to Barry, who was on shift tonight.
Letting the first sip linger on her tongue, Monique listened to the murmur of the crowd and waited for the sound to relax her. It was like meditation, something that let her release what was disturbing her soul. She was not going to think of Didi, or anything else.
Dr. Jay came on stage and started his patter. He liked to bring the audience into the act and they loved him for it. She ran her gaze around the room. Now that she was off the stage, she could see everyone. One or two people met her eyes and raised a glass. They were her fans. She smiled back. It felt good to be appreciated with no strings attached.
One familiar face wasn’t exactly a fan, and he was looking away from her, but Monique remembered him, Snake. One of Didi’s buddies, a petty thief who kept trying to get Didi to join him on a job. As far as Monique knew, Didi had never said yes, but she couldn’t be sure. She was turning away as someone joined Snake. Someone she knew, at least to recognize. Those black eyes had stared through the door at her yesterday.
Monique looked away, not wanting to be noticed. What was Snake into now? His thing was breaking into cars, shoplifting, and if he was telling the truth, committing a few break-and-enters.
Whatever Black Eyes was up to, it was far more serious than petty crime.
She wished she’d brought her purse with her, but it was still locked in the drawer. Without Watson’s business card, even if she could borrow a phone, there was no way to call the cops without dialing 911 and causing a scene. And bringing his attention to her. No matter what her brain said about him not seeing her through the peephole, Monique couldn’t quite get past the feeling he knew who she was.
The best she could do was watch. Maybe after Black Eyes left, she could talk to Snake, get some information for the cops.
Dr. Jay started to sing Someone to Watch Over Me; apparently it was creepy song night. Monique turned to look at the stage, keeping Snake’s table in the corner of her sight. She gripped the edge of the bar to steady herself. The room suddenly chilly, her hand trembled, the wine rippling in response.
The two men huddled together and talked, paying no attention to the song, or anything else. She hazarded a peek at them over her wine glass. Both were dressed in black. Snake in jeans, tee shirt, and hoodie. Black Eyes in a leather jacket, dress pants, and shirt made out of some kind of shiny material. At their feet was a black gym bag. Monique was willing to bet it was the one from Alexi’s apartment.
As she watched, Snake fumbled with something in his pocket, but at a word from his companion, he put his hands on the tabletop. Monique noticed a dirty bandage wrapped around Snake’s left hand.
The conversation started again. Black Eyes was responding to Snake with a few clipped words. Snake looked like he was trying to wiggle out of something. He twitched every time the other man spoke, the signs of fear – or withdrawal symptoms. Was Snake tweaking?
Inside Monique felt the war between her real fear of what might be happening, and a growing impulse to find out what had happened. There was more to w
hat had happened than a simple murder. The violence she’d seen was extreme.
It was unfamiliar, this feeling of curiosity. She’d never been the one to go seek justice. She always retreated from violence, even before her father… She pushed the memory back into the depths of her mind. Her head wanted to let it alone, to concentrate only on her current problems. She had enough of them to fill her mind. But whatever was going on seemed to be forcing itself into her life. She would pass this onto Watson as soon as she could get to the phone. All she was going to do was watch – gather intelligence. Snake could deal with his own problems.
As she tried to settle her internal argument, Megan, one of the waitresses, approached the table where Snake was starting to gesture at Black Eyes. The girl reached for an empty glass, and Black Eyes grabbed her wrist, pushing her hand away from his drink.
Monique felt a shift, and the bar noise seemed to become muted. Barry started to move to the open end of the bar. One of the waiters, she thought his name was Ranjit, put his tray down on an empty table and stepped toward Megan. No one got rough with Tess’s staff.
Megan looked over at the bar and shook her head. Everyone relaxed.
Black Eyes must have felt the scrutiny – he snapped something at Snake and then released Megan’s wrist. Snake pulled out his wallet and dropped a couple of bills on the table. They were sliding their chairs out, getting ready to take their conversation outside.
Monique beckoned to Barry as he finished pouring a martini for a customer. “Hey, keep my glass while I go for a smoke?”
Barry slid the half-empty glass of wine under the counter and moved on to the next order. Monique slipped out the front door just on the heels of Snake. He didn’t notice her. His attention was on Black Eye’s shoulders.
Outside there was a lineup of people waiting to get into the club, most of them chatting quietly. Another crowd of people were hanging around the streetlight, cigarettes in hand. Her quarry turned left onto a side street. Monique knew they might be heading for the free street parking and she would be seen if she followed, because there would be no one on the side streets at this time of night.
