Cowboy Ending - Overdrive: Book One

by Adam Knight

  Made sense in a perverse way.

  “Maybe,” I conceded. No point in mentioning I hadn’t taken a pain pill in over a week, though I would’ve loved one now. My mouth felt dry and tacky as my head began to pulse, throbbing in time to my grumbling belly.

  “S’good to see you though,” Mackie continued, his voice slurring even more. His fingers stopped twirling the item – a ring? – and placed it in the front pocket of his suit jacket. “After what happened here things got bad. Bad here. Bad at the shop. Reports …” He shook his head sadly. His eyes were very red, completely bloodshot. “Reports had to be filed. It was a mess.”

  Odd.

  “Well .. sorry my getting shot by street gang members made you file paperwork back at the station.”

  I might’ve been a touch sarcastic.

  Mackie’s face twisted. “Well you should be sorry. All that paperwork put us in a position, made us responsible for things. Things that started questions.” He was angry now as well as bitter. “It’s hard making child support demands on a cop’s salary already. You think I can afford it if we lose all this?”

  Officer Miller had excused himself from the Asian gentlemen, waving some female distraction over while he made a beeline for the main bar.

  I kept a cool eye on him as I prodded. “Lose all what?”

  Mackie clammed up, knowing he’d slipped. Guilt on his face.

  “Lose all what, Officer Mackie? This club? Your cut of it?”

  “You don’t know. Shit … “ He reeled back on his stool, eyes widening. “You hadn’t been brought in yet. You don’t know what …”

  “Don!” Miller barked roughly a few seconds before clapping a big meaty hand over Mackie’s lean shoulder. He landed it up high, over the trapezius. Going by the way Mackie winced and gasped, I had no doubt that Miller was applying his very own Cro-Magnon Nerve Pinch.

  “Don,” he repeated more calmly, giving me a patently false smile. Way too many teeth. Looked predatory. “You gotta stop talking when you’re drunk. We’re tired of hearing you whine about your ex.”

  Mackie’s wince lessened slightly. Muttering “Bitches,” quietly under his breath.

  Miller’s eyes never left mine. His toothy smile never wavered. My head began to pound but I tried to ignore it, keeping my poker face up as I stared right back at the Sherman Tank disguised in an expensive suit.

  Chapter 36

  I hate staring contests.

  Even when you win, what have you really won? But once you start one they’re hard to stop.

  Stupid macho bullshit.

  Miller definitely was into the intimidation game and who could blame him? I know I’m big but this guy was ridiculous. Slightly shorter than me but almost double wide. I couldn't imagine how many bolts of cloth it took the tailor to get a custom fitted suit put together for this guys’ torso. I wear a fifty-four inch jacket but Miller’s blazer would’ve been a tent on me.

  For myself all I wanted was to keep up the stoic front. Mackie’s inadvertent admission was resonating strongly in my mind with the things the Posse members had said. Nothing specific obviously, but given all the money Aaron had thrown around for these private parties it was clear that something was up. Hell, the suit Mark was wearing easily cost more than a month's worth of bouncing. The type of individuals being wooed and just the fact that Miller was trying to intimidate me while keeping Mackie silenced spoke volumes.

  But above all else I needed to remain focused. My headache was rapidly increasing in intensity and the hunger I was used to feeling was quickly turning uncomfortable. Similar to when you’ve got the flu, only I knew my stomach was empty. I had to roll my tongue around in my mouth to get some moisture flowing, the tacky sensation increasing by the moment.

  Bottom line? I felt sick.

  I never get sick.

  The last time I remembered throwing up at all was over ten years ago after an alcohol induced evening. Sure, this time was similar. But one beer?

  Insanity.

  Thankfully Shelby returned a moment later, the clicking of spiked heels on stone flooring announced her arrival before she appeared in my periphery. Once she did Miller and I turned to watch, the staring contest unofficially declared a draw as something more fun to stare at sashayed forward.

  Shelby smiled politely at Miller and Mackie as she approached, handing me a plate and some napkins. A huge over stuffed sandwich on fresh rye bread with pickles resided there, the scent of which actually made my stomach roll instead of making me salivate.

  My face must’ve betrayed me as Shelby looked concerned. “What? Is this okay?”

  Clearing my throat was suddenly an issue, the lack of moisture making it hard to speak. “Great,” I coughed. “ No, it’s great. Just bit of a headache.”

  “Do you need Aspirin?”

  I nodded. “If you’ve got it. And some water please.”

  Shelby nodded quickly and went back behind the bar. I put my sandwich next to my empty beer bottle and leaned heavily against the bar with my hands, fighting to keep my arms locked straight and my head upright. Miller was watching me intently, his grip on Mackie not lessening.

  A small tumbler filled with water and two pills appeared on the bar as Shelby peered up at me with concern. "You going to be all right?"

  My fingers trembled slightly as I scooped up the pills and pushed them past my lips. I managed a brief nod to Shelby as I got the glass to my mouth. Water spilled down my chin, but enough made it into my mouth to wash away most of the grit in a glorious cool wave. Relief rode that wave down my throat all the way to my stomach. I blinked in surprise, the sudden onset nausea abating a bit. My head still throbbed like a four hour erection but just that one mouthful of water was enough to bring me back a sense of control.

  I stared at the glass of water in my hand for a moment.

  Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me?

  "Joe?" Shelby asked again, her eyes clearly concerned.

  My small smile returned and I regained proper eye contact with her, no matter how difficult it was given that gravity defying outfit. "Just fine," I said quietly, my voice already returning. Another sip of water, another short rush of relief. "Rough day."

  Her worry abated some, eyes flickering over to where Miller and Mackie stood. Her concern flickering some more.

  She was worried about them too.

  "Are you okay?" I asked quietly, just loud enough for her to hear from across the bar.

  Shelby's eyes snapped to mine her perfect smile reappearing at full power. "Absolutely," she lied to me, her voice overly bubbly like you'd expect from the buxom blonde bartender stereotype. My respect for her jumped significantly in that moment. Why hadn't I ever actually talked with her before now? Right, because I'm a depressed Mama's boy. Moving on. "Busy week for me here with all these parties and foreign dignitaries." Her eyes flicked to Miller and Mackie again. "Be good when it's over."

  "I'm sure Aaron could find another girl to work the bar if you have other things to do." That was Miller, his voice gruff and harsh. Barking almost, like a German Shepard. His smile was still too wide, too toothy. But his eyes had gone dark. Mackie winced again as Miller tightened his grip.

  "No, that's fine." Shelby said hurriedly, feigning a girlish laugh. "Just not used to working every night. I usually spend weeknights with my son is all."

  This tight little body had a kid?

  Damn.

  "Speaking of Aaron," I cut in before Miller could bark again. "Did you talk to him?"

  Shelby turned back to me, a touch of relief in her eyes. "He's in the middle of a presentation. Said that he'd be down as soon as he could."

  I nodded, my fool head throbbing with the motion. Goddammit. "I'll hang here for a bit if that’s cool. I need to talk to him when he has a minute."

  "I'll remind him when I get back up there. You gents want anything before I go?" Miller shook his head and Mackie said nothing. Shelby nodded and clicked her heels to the other end of the bar, retrieving a co
uple bottles of whisky from the shelf before heading towards the stairs. She tossed me a glance back over her shoulder that could've been mistaken for flirtatious but it looked otherwise to me. Concerned? A warning?

  Well, at least I had a sandwich.

  Nausea nearly defeated me, but I forced myself to take a bite to try and refuel my body. It tasted like ashes at first, my mouth still not quite producing its own moisture. Head throbbed and my stomach twisted with each chew.

  "So what're you doing here, Joe?" Miller asked, finally releasing Mackie's shoulder who gasped in relief. Miller planted himself within three feet of me and leaned against the bar, clearly invading my personal space ever so slightly. Classic macho intimidation game plan. The stuff they teach you on the playgrounds in Grade One. "Figured you'd be home. With your mother. Recovering."

  I needed another sip of water to get the single bite down my throat. Did he mention Mom on purpose? Was that a veiled threat?

  "Like I said," stupid throat, stop needing to be cleared every few moments. "I just need to talk to Aaron for a minute. Shouldn't take long."

  "Well in case you couldn't tell, Aaron's pretty busy tonight. Investors. Private party." Miller adjusted one coat sleeve, his shoulders stretching the fabric as he did so. More macho posturing. "Might have to try another night."

  "I can wait."

  "Maybe you shouldn't."

  "I'm in no rush."

  "Are you going to make this an issue?"

  "I work here."

  "Not tonight you don't."

  "Why isn't Keimac Cleghorn in jail?"

  Mackie's head snapped up at that, his eyes locking on me despite his intoxicated state. His gaze shifted to Miller, suddenly worried.

  Miller's face went grim. No more toothy smile. Just a blank expression. Danger just beneath the surface.

  "Who?" he asked quietly.

  "Keimac Cleghorn," I repeated. I could do blank and dangerous expressions too. If only my head and stomach would cooperate I might've felt as confident as I tried to appear.

  "Doesn't ring a bell."

  "It should. According to Officer Parise you're the reason why he's walking the streets today instead of sitting in the Remand Centre awaiting trial for my attempted murder."

  Danger swelled like a black thunder cloud off on the horizon just beneath the surface of Miller's face. His shoulders rose in time with his deepened breathing.

  "Do you know how hard it is to keep this city safe?" Miller's voice was deeper than before, almost growling. His fingers clenched and unclenched visibly. "Every day we go out there facing some of the worst scum you can imagine. Criminals with no regard for property or the safety of private citizens. So on a night when someone gets shot right in front of you, it's natural to overreact. To want to punish someone." He shook his head slightly. "It's tough to remember sometimes that it's not our job to punish. It's our job to serve, to protect. I crossed that line and now you're paying for it as well."

  I blinked.

  That was a hell of a speech.

  A very rehearsed speech.

  One that someone had likely written and coached him through. I've watched a ton of cop shows, and there was no doubt that Miller and company had needed to talk to an Internal Affairs agent. Sounded like I just got a rehash of what he said to them.

  Sounded good. Sounded believable.

  I met his eyes.

  Those dark eyes were enraged beneath his thick and bushy eyebrows. Furious at being questioned.

  Sounded like bullshit.

  Chapter 37

  Aaron and Parise came down the marble staircase roughly fifteen minutes later followed by a crowd of finely attired people; gentlemen in suits surrounded by young women in stunning dresses. All looking like a million bucks. Shit, some of those men probably were millionaires at that.

  Miller and I had spent the last several minutes in tense silence, eyeing each other like prize fighters. Mackie was slumped over the bar, another drink clutched in his hand despite Shelby’s disapproving expression. The patrons in the VIP section were getting rowdy, with lots of laughter and high pitched girlish squeals. Presumably of delight and enjoyment, though my instincts told me otherwise.

  My head still throbbed like an open sore and my guts were twisted into knot. I had turned down a second Corona and managed to get half of the sandwich down my throat, but was still trying to fend off the feeling of nausea. I felt like I should be sweating yet my skin was clammy at best under my shirt and jacket.

  Shelby had been giving me concerned glances when she thought Miller wasn’t looking but had remained silent, aside from normal bartender chatter when VIP Patrons wandered over.

  The tension was obvious.

  “Joe,” Aaron said after separating from his party mates and placing his hand on my upper arm. His suit was even more flamboyant than usual; not white, not silver but definitely shiny. His short cropped hair was immaculately styled. Despite partying and entertaining clients for several nights he looked none the worse for wear and ready for more.

  I tried to keep my face impassive as my gaze shifted from Miller. My stomach was still rolling badly but I think I managed to keep how lousy I was suddenly feeling inside. What I had going on in my head was too important to look like it was coming from the mouth of a pain riddled crazy man.

  Aaron continued with a big smile though his gaze passed over my outfit with a hint of disdain. “If I’d known you were wanting to join us I’d have gotten you appropriate attire. Bit of a black tie affair you see?”

  I forced a slight shrug and cleared my throat. “Didn’t know I was coming.”

  Aaron’s expression didn’t change but something behind his eyes did. “Well as you can see, we are entertaining some important business types this week. So I can give you a few minutes but that’s about all I can spare for now.”

  “S’okay, I’m not big on talk.”

  Peripherally I could see Miller’s glower intensify as Aaron and I began our discussion. Parise came over with a girl on each arm, leaning in and beginning a hushed dialogue with Miller.

  Now or never, Joe.

  “Are you running a brothel, Aaron?”

  I kept my voice quiet so that only Aaron and I could hear. It was important for me to maintain as much focus and intensity as possible on Aaron, despite the hushed conversation happening to my immediate left.

  Aaron’s expression froze.

  “Joe, what are you …”

  “It’s okay.” I broke in, giving him my small smile as my guts twisted in time with the throbbing of my head. “I don’t have an issue with prostitution as a concept. I’m not an idiot. Odds are the rooms upstairs are top notch, great for high priced entertainments.”

  Aaron’s expression was nervous. “Look, Joe … You don’t….” He cleared his throat, eyes flickering over to where Miller and Parise were still talking. Mackie stayed slumped over the bar, the booze finally hitting him hard. “You really shouldn’t make any assumptions.”

  My fucking head.

  “I figure this is what you guys wanted to talk to me about a few weeks back,” I continued, rubbing gently at my left temple and wishing for another glass of water. But I didn’t want to bug Shelby for a drink, who knew if I’d get another chance at this. “When you guys wanted me to stay after close. Ease me into the idea.”