The Manor is the last chance Roc and Billy have before calling it quits and waiting for him to show his face back in the Bay.
Akmed stands behind the counter. His eyes show the strain of another fourteen hour shift at the convenience store. Billy and Roc wait for their turn to talk to the hard working African.
"Hey Akmed," Billy says.
"Hello Mr. Billy, Mr. Roc." His thick West African accent once so strange seems as familiar at the Manor as kids out front begging for an adult to buy them smokes.
"You seen a two bit Junkie runnin' round?" Billy asks.
"This is Bayside. Of course I see junkies. That's all I see. Lazy junkies all day."
Billy and Roc both laugh.
"Give me a pack of Krisp Menthols," Roc says.
"Make it two," Billy chimes in.
"Yes sir." Akmed pulls two packs of ciggarettes from a rack behind him. "That will be thirteen thirty nine."
Roc reaches into his pocket.
"I got it," Billy takes out his wallet and hands Akmed a fifty, "keep it."
"Very generous Mister Billy." Akmed places the currency lovingly into his cash register.
"This Junkie in particular might've bought some bath salts," Billy tells him, "real ugly, big ears, pimply as that day old pizza you got in the warmer, and he smells something awful."
"I think he came in this morning," Akmed says, "really early, too early to be as high as he was. He came in and asked me all sorts of questions about the bath salts. I told him I would never take drugs, he made the purchase and left. A couple police gentleman asked me about him as well."
"Yeah, he killed his own mom after he took 'em," Billy says.
"Terrible." Akmed shakes his head.
"You're still going to sell 'em though ain't ya, Akmed," Roc smirks.
"Don't hate a player, hate game."
"The game, Akmed, don't hate the game," Billy laughs, "thanks Akmed, you take care of yourself. Get some sleep for Christ sake."
"Thank you, come again."
"Where to?" Roc holds the door open for Billy and walks outside.
The pink hue of dusk sweeps the day away, preparing the town for nightfall.
"Last place I can think of, the woods. We'll start at Devil's Rock and then go through the tunnel. Check out the area around Dog Head Lake."
"In the morning?" Roc suggests.
"Too scared to go out at night? You just a big ol' teddy bear," Billy pushes Roc playfully, "soft as a grape."
"Fuck you nigga, I just think we ain't gonna see nuttin', might as well crash at the crib and hit it tomorrow."
"I guess you're right. I could use some drinks and a couple lines."
The gangsters get in Roc's car and head back to the Bay, tired and empty handed.
Chapter XIX
Poker Night
Poker night at the Pitt is a thirty-year-old tradition, no way a couple dead bodies are going to change that. Men depend on Sundays to cut loose and relax. It's an excuse to get away from the wife and kids, to put the world on pause for a moment. That's important, especially during times of crisis.
Zed winks at Brittany the bartender, a brunette stacked like a bookshelf. Bartending on poker night is like winning the lottery. Girls make a cool grand doing it, but they have to have some skill.
A pretty face can get you far in this world, but a skill set, even as little as making a good martini will get you farther.
Everything is shots and shenanigans in the dining area, but in the back office, business is being conducted.
* * * * *
Zed's office is large and looks like it's made out of Lincoln Logs. Most of the Pitt was built new, but the office and part of the dining area are renovations from an old cabin.
Jaybird and Judd sit on opposite sides of an oak desk each with a glass of whiskey in their hands.
"This from Zed's still?" Jaybird swirls the caramel colored liquid around, letting the booze breath and the ice melt.
"Yessir. He's had it aging for about twelve years, just popped the barrel two days ago. He's got a twenty-year-old one in there too, but he says it's still growing strong."
"I thought he liked them about that age." Jaybird chuckles and takes a sip.
"No, the old fart fucks 'em at twenty-three. He says their too crazy at twenty, and too conservative by thirty."
"How's he do it?" Jaybird asks.
"He's rich as fuck, hoss," Judd says, "hell, he makes your real estate business look like a goddamn lemonade stand. Somethin' bout that green makes a girl's panties wet as the Hocking river."
"Thanks for getting rid of that problem. I haven't seen Leroy anywhere in the Bay," Jaybird sets his glass on the desk, "however, I don't believe you requested my counsel for old news. What's on your mind?"
"I need a favor." Judd leans back in his rolling chair.
"Sure Judd, you know I'd do anything for you. You've been like a father to me."
"You seen Skaggs Mcdermott lately?" The bags weigh heavy underneath Judd's eyes.
"As a matter of fact, I saw that junkie at the Manor this morning begging for change."
"Reckon he took a whole mess of drugs and killed his mama," Judd says, "now he's on the run."
Shock covers Jaybird's face, "Tina was an angel," he says, "she worked her ass off to provide for that piece of shit, "his brow lowers, "everyone in the Bay loved her."
"We got Quinn at the station," Judd says.
"How is he?" Jaybirds eyes light up, "is he hurt?"
"No, but he saw the whole thing," Judd sticks a Krisp Red between his teeth, more nicotine to keep the mind going.
"You look in the woods?" Jaybird asks. The ease from the beginning of the conversation fades, and the stone cold face of a killer emerges.
"They got it surrounded, well, as much as you can surround the Kobe woods. Marley and Daniels'll comb the city like a mama searchin' for a lice bug."
"The Bay all clear?" Jaybird leans forward and places his elbows on his knees. His sharp and narrow jaw-line is peppered with blonde stubble.
"Is it ever?" Judd asks. "Washington does a good job keeping the animals in their cages, and the honest people honest."
"I don't think anyone in the Bay would lie for that piece of shit, they'd hand him in without a second thought."
"I need you to ask around," Judd ashes his smoke, "hard."
"You got it. I'm taking Quinn."
"The fuck you are," Judd sneers.
"It's his mom, Judd. It's the right thing to do. If anyone should pull the trigger it's him, and I'd rather take someone that'll encourage sympathy, than having to crush skulls for answers."
Judd flares his nose like a dragon. He takes a few minutes to weigh out the situation. A kid has the right to fight for his mother's honor, a right he took away from his nephew years ago. Under the circumstances now with Curt in the hospital, Judd can right that wrong.
"Go to the station and pick Quinn up," Judd looks up briefly to see Jaybird nod and walk out of the office. He takes out his cell phone and dials Austin's number. "Hey buddy give me a call as soon as you get this message, I need to talk to you about your dad."
* * * * *
Pete's House of Pancakes is more than morbid on this sad Sunday evening. A booth in the back is reserved for flowers, letters, candles, and anything else that Tina would've wanted.
Pete scheduled the restaurant to be closed from five o'clock on Monday evening for a candlelight vigil for the deceased waitress.
Detectives Daniels and Marley enjoy their dinner, but more importantly, they pay their respects. The news hasn't broken about Katie just yet, as far as the town is concerned, she's still a missing person. One murder is enough for Kobe today.
"Whatcha say, Daniels?" Marley asks.
"Pete makes a helluva burger," Daniels smiles
Marley laughs just enough to break his solemn expression, "we couldn't get any info at Aces."
"Well,Marley, from what I saw you cared more about the free meal and the naked
ladies than the case."
Marley smiles wide and stirs a curly fry in ketchup, "what do you think about Judd's brother?" Marley says quietly enough to not rouse up any suspicion.
"I think he's a no good creep, and he'll get the swift hand of justice. At least, when he heals up. Sadly, we lost that case," Daniels puts down his burger and looks Marley in the eye, "but I'm not gonna let this dirtbag slip through our fingers."
"He's in the woods, Daniels."
Daniels takes a big bite of his build-your-own-burger complete with steak sauce and onion straws, "don't I know it, partner, don't I know it."
"What're the odds Maryanne'll let you take the next couple days and camp out by Dog Head Lake?"
"She doesn't have much of a choice," Daniels says, "I told her I'm not coming home until I catch this slimeball."
* * * * *
Krystal invites Rob into her beautiful home and gives him a quick hug.
Rob Boesh has a goatee, short brown hair and a layer of pudge. With the exception of the facial hair, he's the spitting image of his father, the sheriff.
Krystal moves out of the way and allows her friend to enter the room.
"Hey, Rob," Jessica smiles and wraps her arms around his neck.
Rob nuzzles into her neck, smelling the sunshine and citrus of her hair. Slowly she pulls out of the hug, but she lingers long enough for it to be more than a hello. Rob never can be sure though, flirting and sexual situations are a bit awkward to him, he never knows when to make a move. His dick's only been sucked by a handful of Vaseline, so his game isn't intact quite yet.
"We got a surprise for you," Jessica places her hand on Rob's chest, patting it as she talks.
"What's that?" Rob asks.
"You'll have to wait and see," Jessica smiles coyly.
Rob wonders if she knows how beautful she is. If she stares in the mirror the way he stares at her while he's working in the kitchen. Slaving away on a hot grill at his uncle's restaurant.
"I waited forever for Quinn at the house to buy some weed," Rob complains, "but that long-haired fucker never showed up."
"Don't worry," Jessica says, "I got about a quarter and some ecstasy I found at Billy's"
The gorgeous princess gives Rob another hug. Her soft slender arms tighten around his neck. Her small perfect breasts touch his chest.
Rob tries his best not to get hard. He thinks about fishing and baseball but the scent of her perfume gives way and he can feel it stretching his jeans.
Jessica pulls away and stares into his eyes for a moment. With her bright platinum hair pulled back in a ponytail, he just imagines tugging on it a little while they kiss. No more than that, not sex or a blow job, just a sweet, simple, kiss.
* * * * *
Bert the rookie sits in front of the check-in desk at the police station. Poor guy's never even been out in the field, he's the slave of the Kobe police department. 'Get Quinn a burger, Bert', 'make sure those cruisers are nice and clean for us, Bert'. Every little bullshit job you could think of gets passed down to the rookie.
Every Sunday they invite him to the poker game, but they always schedule him to work. He can't wait to get off the clock and find this Skaggs fella. That'll show 'em. Then someone else will have to do all the bitch work.
Jason Gaines walks through the glass double doors and up the small flight of stairs to the check in desk.
"Can I help you?" Bert says with animosity in his voice.
"Yeah, Bert, I'm here to pick up Quinn McDermott."
"Well, you best turn right back 'round, cause he ain't gettin' released 'til Judd says so."
"I just talked to Judd. He said for me to take the kid home. Is there some paperwork I need to fill out?"
"Nope," Bert glares at him, "and watch yer tone boy, I'm an officer of the law."
Jaybird sighs, "can you just go get him please?"
"You deaf, Jail-Bird?"
"It's Jason." Jaybird rubs the tops of his nose, between his eyes. "My name's Jason."
"Keep on sellin' them drugs and it's gonna be jailbird instead uh Jaybird." Bert loves his jokes. They always make him smile. He loves messing with Jason too. What a jerk.
"I got things to do, Bert, I know that you still have some...feelings against me for dating your ex-girlfriend."
"You stole her." Bert pounds his fist on the counter. "She wasn't no ex until she started fucking you for that crack-cocaine money, you good for nothing dope dealer. You just wait, I'm itching for a reason to lock you up."
"Bert, I'm a real estate agent. The only crack I sell, are the cracks in floors and siding at my discounted properties. Now if you will be so kind."
"You can have a seat. Judd'll be back soon," Bert smiles wide, "maybe in the morning," Bert chuckles, "until then, I got work to do," Bert picks up a newspaper and fills in the crossword puzzle.
Jaybird takes a phone from his pocket and dials the Sheriff.
"Hey Judd, officer Bert is having a bit of trouble understanding how to unlock the cell doors. He says that he cannot, under any circumstances, let Quinn McDermott out," Jaybird paces back and forth, "oh, he's not even locked up?" Jaybird waits for a response, "ok, will do." He hands the phone to Bert. "Here, Bert, Judd wants to talk to you."
Bert snatches the phone out of Jason's large hand.
"Hello. Yeah but..." Bert listens to his superior talk and stares coldly at his nemesis. "Yes sir, I'll release him right away," Bert hangs up the phone and hands it back to Jaybird.
"Thanks, Bert, I'm real sorry about stealing your girl, hopefully, you'll drop those hard feelings and accept the invitation to the wedding," Jaybird smirks.
Bert fucking hates this guy.
* * * * *
Marley and Daniels pull up beside Dog Head Lake, next to the monumental tree. Instead of the police cruiser, they have a full-size SUV filled to the brim with camping supplies.
"Should we hunt for Skaggs a bit first?" Marley parks the Suv and gets out.
"Let's build a fire and get our tent set up, "Daniels walks around to the back of the truck, "then we can prowl. Maybe even hide out and see if he scouts the camp area," he pops the trunk and pulls out a tent and some chairs.
"Sound's good, boss," Marley says. "You think he made it all the way to the state park?"
"Maybe," Daniels says, "it's a long walk. We got a couple black and whites near the visitor's station at the Ohio Caverns. If they see anything they'll let us know. Don't worry we'll catch him." Daniels finds a nice flat area without rocks and sets down the tent.
"You know what I think?" Marley walks around the area and picks up twigs, leaves, and some other wildlife to start a fire.
"What's that Marley?" Daniels removes the dome tent from the plastic sheath.
"I think he found himself a hidden spot," Marley walks over to a fire ring, "someplace he goes to get high," he lays down a piece of foil in the hole, "just waiting for folks to stop looking long enough to bolt."
"Pretty good guess. For all we know, he could've jacked a car in the Bay and made it all the way to Columbus by now," Daniels inserts a large metal rod through the slits at the top of the dome and sits the tent on the ground.
"Did we put out a state-wide search yet?" Marley arranges the twigs in a teepee on the foil. He shoves the leaves and dead grass below the twigs.
"I'm not sure," Daniels says, "Judd wants to keep it quiet. I think if we don't find him in a couple days then he'll put it through, If not, we'll have the Columbus cops poking their noses in our business."
"Or the national guard," Marley flicks a zippo lighter and gets the fire started.
"You got a point," Daniels shakes out four stakes from the plastic sheath.
"There might be something to that, though, Daniels, if we get the guard and the feds out here, he'll be toast." Marley finds a few logs on the outskirts of the forest and brings them over to the campsite.
"We've seen it before. It just makes a bunch of red tape. Sure we'll have more manpower, but half of them are arguin
g, and the other half, stand around and drink coffee." Daniels shoves the stakes through rings at the bottom of the tent, into the ground. "I'm with Judd," he says, "let's keep this one in our neck of the woods. From what his brother Quinn says, the creep's got razors for fingers. If someone picks him up, I'm sure he'll get tossed in jail, at least on suspicion."
* * * * *
The Mayor, an older gentleman with white hair deals the last round out for Texas Hold'em. It's down to only two players, Hunter and him.
Everyone else is cashed out, waiting patiently to buy in again, and watching the showdown between the last two card sharks.
The Mayor peers at his hand.
Hunter leaves his last card on the table and watches his opponent, "all in," Hunter pushes his remaining chips to the middle of the table.
"What the fuck, hoss? How are you gonna throw all that green on the table without even lookin' at your last card?"
"I'm sorry if you didn't hear me, Mayor," Hunter smiles, "I said all in."
"I can't match you, is that just going to be free money when I win?"
"When you win?" Hunter asks. "I'll tell you what, throw in the keys to your car parked outside and we'll call it square."
"My Bentley?"
"Yup," Hunter says.
The Mayor holds his breath and pushes the air into his chin, swelling it up.
"Tell you what," Hunter says, "I'll even buy you a new set of tires if you manage to keep that beauty."
The Mayor looks at Hunter, then back at his cards several times.
Hunter can almost see his thoughts race.
"Fuck it," the Mayor blows out a face full of hot air and throws his keys on the table, "call."
Hunter stares back. Waiting. Watching his opponent sweat bullets. Just another victim to play a trick on, another mind to manipulate.
"Aren't you going to look at your card?" The question surfaces on the Mayor's lips, but it looks more like a prayer.
"Why bother Mayor? You didn't make good with the aces. I could have a pair of fuckin' fours and beatcha." However, Hunter knows the Mayor made the aces. The evolved homo-sapien made the royal flush. Handing out helpings of hope is all part of the bluff.
Lie until you believe it.
Kobe Page 12
