Cowboy Ending - Overdrive: Book One

by Adam Knight

  “Cathy, I … Ow! Stop that. …”

  “You son of a bitch! How could you be involved with something like this?”

  “Involved? How could you … Ow!”

  Her blows became more rapid and frantic as her emotions overtook her. Her voice completely broke and tears began to fall. I managed to pullover at that point, Cathy’s strikes becoming too frantic to shrug off and continue driving safely. We had a brief and awkward tussle in the front seat as I tried to catch her wrists as gently as possible while she went into a full post-traumatic stress meltdown.

  I’ve been there before. It passes.

  Cathy screamed and hollered at me for a few moments, thrashing and wailing. It was getting really loud in my suddenly tiny van and I was terrified that a police officer might drive by, see what was going on and assume a domestic issue of some sort.

  I couldn’t wait her out.

  “Cathy!” I bellowed, the sheer force of my voice in the confined space giving her pause. “I’m not involved!”

  She thrashed against me a little more, her fury not yet abated. I held her firmly but gently waiting her out.

  “Why?” she spat, her face a mess. Her TV makeup all smeared from salty tear tracks. “Why should I believe you?”

  “I came to you!” I retorted, my guilty feelings now at war with the sense of betrayal at her lack of faith in me. “If I was involved with something like this, why would I come to you?”

  “To throw me off the trail? Because you couldn’t find your targets?”

  “Do I look like a mafia hitter to you? I nearly wet myself when those guns came out!”

  “Then why are you so sorry?”

  “Because they hurt you!”

  Cathy paused in her movements, her eyes wide and wet. Hair still out of place from being held captive.

  I released her wrists as gently as I could, lowering my hands to my lap. My eyes following suit.

  “What?”

  “You weren’t supposed to be there,” I muttered, disgusted with myself. “I knew it was stupid, that’s why I didn’t want you there. I promised myself you wouldn’t get hurt. And you did.” My hands, my big calloused and heavy hands opened and closed uselessly for a moment. My head still awhirl.

  “That’s why you’re sorry?”

  “I would never hurt you, Cathy.” I raised my eyes to hers carefully, afraid of what I would see there. Afraid of what she might see in mine. “I’d rip out my own arm first. I swear it.”

  Cathy’s eyes slowly became softer. Her face was still a blotchy mess. She brought both hands up and scrubbed at her eyes. She cried some more then, not frantically anymore. But from a necessary release.

  It happens to people in stressful situations. Sometimes you gotta break down before you can deal.

  I let Cathy get it out of her system in silence, rolling my right shoulder slightly and feeling the bruising beginning to form. She’s got some sharp knuckles dammit.

  “God,” Cathy moaned wearily finally coming around and bringing her hands down from her face. That was it for her makeup job, the smears and streaks now making a right mess that only a proper cleaning would fix. “Oh God am I sorry, Joe.”

  I shrugged and muttered. “S’okay.”

  “No. No, it’s not.” Her eyes may have looked like a wet raccoon’s by now but they still managed to pierce mine with her intensity. They were so red and raw, it made me feel lousy to see her like that.

  You sure know how show a girl a good time don’t you, dipshit?

  “Sure. Whatever. Don’t worry about it,” I muttered, turning in my seat to get us back on the road my hands reaching for the wheel.

  Cathy’s hand reached across and gripped gently at my arm, the same one she’d been hammering on not five minutes before.

  “It’s not okay, Joe.” Cathy’s voice was firm. Regretful. “I was scared. I am scared. That stuff in the house … “ she trailed off for a moment, her eyes fading back in thought. Her lower lip trembled briefly, but she got it under control. Keeping her emotions back in check like a true TV Pro should. “What they said, what they accused you of. I should’ve known you aren’t a part of things. Shouldn’t of suspected.”

  I shook my head slightly. “I swear. I don’t know what’s going on, Cathy.” My voice was soft, barely audible even to me. My eyes kept drifting to her fingers on my arm, where they gripped at me gently. Comforting. Something real in this unreal situation I found myself in.

  “Is there any truth to what they’re implying?” Cathy prodded, gently this time. No more accusations in her voice. “Are girls turning tricks in that club? Going missing from there?”

  My shoulders shrugged minutely. “I remembered Candace but only after the fact. She was there a few times for sure. One other one was absolutely there as well. Maybe two others from what I saw on that wall.”

  “So what does that mean?”

  “Something? Nothing? I don’t know.” My guts twisted with indecision, uncertainty and hunger. “Cowboy Shotz is the hottest club in town, Cathy. Everyone goes there eventually. Bankers. Celebs passing through town. Sports people. That sort of buzz brings in the crowds, makes it an event every night. The place to see and be seen.” I met her eyes. “It’s why you and the Captain go there, right?”

  Cathy’s face flushed slightly at that though it was mostly hidden by the smeared remains of her makeup. Then her eyes widened intently, shocked.

  “Oh no!”

  “What?”

  “Max!”

  I blinked. ‘What?”

  Her hands fluttered about as she began rummaging around at her side, searching frantically. “My phone. Have you seen my phone?”

  “I … uh … No?”

  “Shit.” She swore precisely, with inflection. Cathy’s search broadened, turning about in the seat to look behind her chair.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I was still on the phone with Max when … When those guys grabbed me. He must’ve heard me scream over the phone before they took me.”

  “Oh,” I muttered. “Okay yeah, that’s bad.”

  “Just drive, Joe. Get me back to the station while I look. For all I know he’s gone full Amber Alert and alerted the entire city about me going missing by now.”

  I slipped the Windstar into drive and eased her gently back into the light traffic on Main Street while she leaned over the middle partition and grabbed at her purse from the back seat. Despite the craziness of the evening I had to work hard at ignoring her shapely posterior right next to my elbow as I drove back downtown.

  Don’t judge me. Cathy’s got a great ass. You’d be distracted too.

  “Got it!” She declared, sliding herself carefully back into the front seat and trying to bring up her call screen.

  “Well call him. Get him to call of the dogs.”

  “I’m trying, hang on. I have to get a good signal here before … Wait, hello? Max?” Muffled shouting on the other end of the line, definitely male. “No, I’m all right Max. I promise. I’m safe.”

  My stomach clenched and unclenched as I drove on, listening to Cathy soothe her frantic local sports hero boyfriend as I replayed the events of the evening in my head. Thoughts sliding every which way.

  They’re our girls. Our Posse.

  Parise and Aaron, shaking my hand. Inviting me to stay for the after party. Business to discuss.

  Everyone knows those pigs are evil.

  Hidden camera at the door at the top of the stairs.

  For the love of God, Chris. This is going to seriously impact business.

  Girls in the VIP, always dressed to the nines and always available.

  It would be a shame if something were to happen to Mr. Cleghorn before we could arrest him again.

  The lights were on at Cowboy Shotz as we drove past but there was no lineup out front.

  Private parties every night this week. New clients or partners, isn’t that what Mark said?

  My stomach rumbled as we cruised by. My jaw clenc
hed and the tingle in the back of my neck started up again faintly despite the fatigue in my limbs.

  Looked like I was crashing a party.

  Chapter 34

  Apparently when the Captain of the local hockey team is in a panic mode he can make shit happen in this town.

  After making the turn from Main Street and looping up the one way street towards the CTV Studios it was easy to see the red and blue flashing lights bouncing in the evening’s dark. Cathy had managed to chill Max out enough over the phone to keep the Mayor’s office from being alerted but only just barely. As we were pulling up to the curb a small crowd of people was waiting anxiously.

  Cathy had managed to make her face look less like an Alice Cooper band member with a discarded wet wipe she found in an old Taco Bell bag from the back seat. While her skin was a bit red from the scrubbing and no one could mistake that she’d been crying, at least it was a bit less of a horror show.

  “You want me to take off?” I asked with hope in my voice as I eyeballed the scene.

  Cathy shook her head, running fingers through her hair in an attempt to restore order. “Don’t you dare. Stay until I get everyone calmed down.”

  The Posse members’ pistols hidden in my glove box seemed to glow in my mind as the flashing police lights got closer.

  Great.

  “Right.” I kept my eyes on the road, my neck still tingling slightly in time with the rumble in my belly. I ignored the impulse to keep checking that the glove box was shut as my baby slowed and rubbed up against the curb. I flicked on my hazards. For real, the cops were right there. Last thing I wanted was freaking ticket or something.

  Max Poulin quickly distanced himself from the small crowd of people as he rushed towards the van, heedless of the springtime muck in his expensive leather shoes and slacks. He looked like he’d been in a late meeting or dinner possibly before rushing across town to the TV studio. His short hair was a bit wild, as was the worried expression on his earnest and open face.

  Max opened the door to my van in a rush and gathered Cathy up into his arms, whirling her around in a small circle before setting her down gently on her feet, his hands running over her face and hair. Concern and care evident in his every action.

  Shit.

  The only thing worse than a successful, handsome and ridiculously rich athlete? One who is also genuinely a good guy. You couldn’t even be jealous without feeling like a dick.

  I grimaced slightly and slid out of the van under my own power, relegated to my familiar chopped liver status. The rest of the crowd of people moved forward as I rounded the front of my van. Two uniformed Police Officers and CTV cameramen Kurt and Jimmy, the latter of which was holding a massive ENG camera over one shoulder with the mini spotlight flared up and pointed directly at the happy couple. Cathy smiled briefly at her fellow employees, but tried to wave them off as they started rolling.

  “What happened?” Max asked, his voice strained as he stepped back slightly, hands still protectively on her upper arms. “You said something on the phone about an investigation you were on, then you cried out and the line went dead.”

  I leaned against the passenger side of my van and crossed my arms casually, trying to disappear into the background as much as a six and a half foot bruiser possibly can.

  “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.