On the Prowl

by Matt Lincoln

  On paper, I was nothing more than an uneducated hick from a tiny town in Nevada, so it shocked me when I received a call a week after applying, requesting an in-person interview. I put everything I had into that interview and was pretty frank and honest about my youth and why I believed I’d be suited for the job. It was definitely a risky move, admitting to a federal agent all the questionable things and less-than-legal exploits I’d been up to in my youth, but it was ultimately a risk that paid off, as just a few days after that, I was on my way to Las Vegas with nothing but a suitcase full of clothes and a few knick-knacks I just couldn’t bear to part with, among them a small black and white stuffed dog wearing a police uniform that Harry had given me the first time we met.

  Most everything else I owned, I either sold, gave away, or just threw out. The drive from Elko to Las Vegas was about eight hours long, and aside from not wanting to haul everything out with me, I saw this as an opportunity for a completely fresh start. It had seemed like an exciting idea at first, until the reality of not having any furniture actually sank in, which was how I’d ended up crashing on the floor, on top of a thin throw blanket, in the middle of the afternoon the day after my drive up here.

  I took a look around the room and made a quick inventory of things that I needed most pressingly. A bed, for starters, as I had no desire to repeat the painful experience that I’d just had. A table and some chairs, or at least a chair, so I’d have somewhere to eat and put my laptop. I wasn’t exactly expecting company any time soon, so a single chair would suffice. Maybe a couch or a sofa, too. My television was one of the few things that I’d brought with me from Elko. It was a 60-inch smart tv with all the bells and whistles, and really it was the only nice, luxurious thing I owned. A had spent months saving for it after Harry had helped me land my first legitimate job, and I had been so proud of myself. I still was, which was why it had been one of the few things to make the trip to Vegas with me.

  It’d be pretty annoying to have to watch it from the floor, though, so a couch and something to set it on were definitely musts as well.

  I stretched as I moved away from the window and toward the small bathroom of my apartment. I turned the knob for the hot water on as far as I could, then cracked open the window on the far end of the bathroom. As I waited for the water to become scalding hot the way I preferred it, I rummaged through the leather pouch of toiletries I’d left sitting by the sink this morning. I pulled out my toothbrush and began brushing my teeth, watching as my reflection in the mirror became fuzzier as the room filled with warm steam.

  Thoughts of my youth reminded me of Harry and how I hadn’t called him yet. He’d been happy to hear that I’d gotten the job, and that I was moving to Las Vegas. To be honest, I had my suspicions that Harry might have had something to do with that initial interview offer. He was an outstanding cop and an even better man and had made a lot of connections and friendships in his time on the force. It wouldn’t have surprised me to discover that he’d gone out of his way to give me a glowing recommendation, since Harry was always going out of his way to look out for me.

  He’d insisted I call him as soon as I got here to make sure I’d made it okay, and for a minute, I felt guilty that the first thing I’d done upon reaching Las Vegas was to fall asleep without calling him. Harry had always been protective of me, but ever since he’d moved to Mount Charleston, he’d become more and more like a mother hen, constantly checking up since he likely had nothing more pressing to do. Unlike Elko, Vegas was only an hour away from Mount Charleston, which meant I’d be able to visit Harry more regularly. Before, I’d only been able to visit him on special occasions, as the drive would literally take all day. Now, I’d be able to check in on him much more often, which I’d wanted to do ever since the accident that had forced him into early retirement.

  Once the water was at a suitable temperature, I stepped into the shower, sighing in relief as the hot water pelted down onto my sore neck. There was something so relaxing about a scorching hot shower, and after the rough drive and uncomfortable sleep I’d just had, it was just what I needed to ease my tension and help me wake up. I stayed in the shower until the water began to cool down and only then realized that I hadn’t brought a towel into the bathroom with me. I turned the water off and stepped out of the bathroom and back into the living room, rummaging through the few boxes and suitcases that I’d brought with me for a towel. I finally found one crammed at the bottom of a duffel bag and yanked it out. Several other articles of clothing came out with it, but I decided to worry about that later.

  My phone chimed from somewhere behind me, and I turned to see the fluorescent light of the screen shining through the fabric of the blanket it was currently tangled up in. Reaching down to pull it free, I noticed a new text message, and the name of the sender made me freeze.

  I turned back toward the pile of clothes I’d left on the floor, chose some at random, and pulled them on quickly before rushing out the door of the apartment. The text had reminded me that calling Harry wasn’t the only thing I’d forgotten to do today. I paused only for a moment to lock the door behind me before jogging over to the large black pickup truck parked just a few feet from my door. That had been another gift from Harry. He’d decided he wouldn’t need it anymore after moving to Mount Charleston and wouldn’t be able to drive it anyway, and so he’d kindly bequeathed it to me. As I climbed into the driver’s side and pulled the door of the truck shut behind me, I stopped for a moment to marvel at just how kind and giving Harry had been toward me ever since he met me. I was determined to return the favor.

  The moment didn’t last long, however, as I was already running late, and so I pulled out of the parking lot of the apartment complex and turned left toward the shining lights of the Las Vegas Strip.

  3

  Charlie

  I glanced down at my clock on my dash for the third time, willing the numbers to move a little slower. It was just a few minutes before 8:00 pm, our scheduled meet-up time, and I knew that these opportunities were rare enough not to squander one.

  I’d been on the strip for a few minutes now, and I imagined that I could physically feel my blood pressure rising as I weaved between other cars in my haste to both get to my destination faster and to get as far away from these other drivers as I could. Driving through Las Vegas was terrifying in that you could never let your guard down. Traffic was usually congested enough that you had to drive slowly, but you never knew when it would suddenly speed up or when someone would cut you off without warning. My first few visits were exhilarating in the way that theme park rides are, but the novelty quickly wore off, and now all that was left were quick bursts of adrenaline that just left me feeling drained and miserable every time it was over.

  Not for the first time, I wondered if all of these hasty, last-minute meetings were worth all the stress and hassle. I passed the tall and imposing Palace Station hotel and casino, a marker that indicated I was only a few blocks away from my destination now.

  It wasn’t much to look at, and in fact, most people would probably pass it right by in their rush to get to their destinations. The parking lot of a cheesy themed diner smack dab in the middle of the Las Vegas strip was where we had chosen to have our infrequent rendezvous. Not the main parking lot, of course, but the small strip that wrapped around the side of the building, where the shadow of the towering casino located next door cast the few spots located there into near-total darkness.

  I could already feel myself smiling as I eased my oversized truck into the small space next to the small gray Lexus already parked there. It was, much like its owner, a thing of subdued beauty, elegant and exuding power while still maintaining an understated exterior.

  I wasted no time in approaching the passenger side window, unwilling to waste any of the precious little time we had together. I knew that at any moment, she could be called away, and once I started my new job tomorrow, we’d have even fewer opportunities to see each other. I stopped only for a moment to bend down a
nd knock gently twice against the window, flashing a smile to the woman inside as a silent request for permission to enter the car, although I knew already what her answer would be. She smiled back, a tiny dimple forming under her left cheek as she beckoned me inside with a small tilt of her head.

  I pulled open the door and slid onto the smooth leather seat, the heating mechanism under the seats feeling incredibly nice in contrast to the brisk October air.

  “Hey Chrys,” I said, unable to keep a smile from forming on my lips as I said her name.

  “Hey Charlie,” she replied with the trademark smirk I’d grown to love. I took a moment to admire her amber-colored eyes, thinking about how lovely they looked against the dark tone of her skin. The thought that, yeah, this was definitely worth it, struck me then.

  “I got some cherry pie and apple cobbler from that diner,” she said, nodding toward the restaurant beside the car and holding two styrofoam boxes toward me. “I always feel kind of bad about parking here and not buying anything, even though no one ever seems to park here, anyway.”

  I smiled at that. Chrys was incredibly kind and thoughtful, and being worried about taking up a parking spot that a paying customer could instead use was just the kind of thing she would do.

  We’d met the first time I’d come up to Las Vegas about a month earlier. I’d just started the preliminary interview process with MBLIS and had decided that I should scope out the city to get an idea of where I’d like to live if I did get hired. I’d been taking a walk through Symphony Park near the outskirts of the strip when I’d come across a kid being bullied by a couple of older kids. I’d reacted out of instinct, striding over and demanding to know what they were doing. The sight of a tall, clearly angry adult man screaming and quickly heading toward them had been enough to scare the bullies away.

  The younger kid hadn’t seemed scared. On the contrary, he’d been grateful that I’d chased his tormentors away, although he did regret that they’d taken his phone and the paltry few dollars he’d had on him. I felt so bad for him and offered to get him ice cream from a nearby vendor before walking him to a police station to call his parents. He insisted he could just walk home, but I didn’t feel entirely comfortable letting him do that on his own and, although I was a cop, didn’t feel comfortable following this unaccompanied child to his home as an adult stranger either.

  It was in line for ice cream that I ran into Chrys, who heard us talking behind her, and I became alarmed when she asked the child if I was his father, and he said no. She did relax, though, once he and I both explained the situation to her.

  “I’m really sorry about that,” she had said later outside the police station where she had accompanied us to drop the kid off. “You just hear so many awful stories about what people do these days, and then I heard you were offering to get him ice cream and my mind just went to the worst place.”

  It was definitely not the greatest start, but we ended up talking for several hours after that.

  “It’s a type of flower,” she had told me, regarding her name. “It’s a pretty flower, and it’s a pretty name too, I suppose. Unique, definitely. But ugh, the amount of times people pronounce or spell it incorrectly drives me nuts! Especially back in school. It seemed like none of my teachers could ever get it right. I started going by Chrys in college, and suddenly the problem seemed to resolve itself. I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I identify as Chrysanthemum, and sometimes I just don’t feel like dealing with the hassle, you know?” I didn’t, really, but Chrys never really expected me to respond much, which was fine by me. I wasn’t a very conversational guy, and I was content to let her talk while I listened.

  I also learned during that conversation that Chrys was a resident surgeon at the Valley Hospital Medical Center and that she had moved to Las Vegas because she’d wanted a radical change from the farmhouse in Oklahoma she’d grown up in. I had detected the slightest twang in her accent up to that point, and it made sense now knowing where she was from.

  We’d met up a few times since then, any time I would come up to look for an apartment or meet someone for an interview. We met at odd hours and for unpredictable periods of time, as Chrys’s schedule kept her insanely busy. I didn’t really mind. Once I started at MBLIS, even if I was living in the same city, my schedule would be just as busy, if not more so. If nothing else, the frenetic, spontaneous nature of our meetings kept our relationship intense and, if part of me worried that it might end with just as much intensity, well, I kept that part quiet.

  I broke out of my reverie as she shook the styrofoam boxes in front of me expectantly.

  “Sorry, what did you say?” I asked, hoping it hadn’t been too obvious how lost in thought I’d been.

  She just rolled her eyes and gave me her signature smirk. “I said, do you want the cobbler or the pie?”

  “Oh, how about half and half?” I replied, looking down at the boxes and genuinely curious about trying both. The boxes were closed, so I couldn’t see either dessert, but I could certainly smell them in the close quarters of the car, and they smelled good.

  “Correct. Congratulations, you passed,” she said, pulling a plastic knife out of a bag sitting on the center console that I hadn’t noticed before.

  “Passed?” I laughed as she used the knife to cut the pie and cobbler into as even halves as she could manage. “What do you mean I passed?”

  “I mean that I was already trying to think of a way to convince you to let me eat both of them myself, and then you go and think of something as brilliant as cutting them in half. This is why I keep you around, Charlie.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at her sense of humor. I’d never met someone like Chrys, and being around her instantly put me at ease, which was saying a lot for me, as I tended to keep people at a distance.

  She was just handing me an individually wrapped knife and fork when her phone went off, the ringtone that we both recognized and somewhat dreaded filling the small space of the car.

  “Noooo,” she crooned, falling back against the headrest of her seat melodramatically. “You just got here!”

  She groaned, smiled at me apologetically, and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

  “Yeah, it’s work,” she said with a sad sigh as she answered.

  She listened to someone on the other end for only a few seconds before confirming that she would be there soon, and just like that, our meeting ended as anticlimactically as it could.

  4

  Charlie

  It was still dark when I woke up the next morning, and a glance at my phone revealed that it was still only 4:37. It wasn’t all that surprising, considering I’d spent the majority of the previous afternoon asleep after making the long drive up to Las Vegas, but it was still a little annoying being awake this early when I didn’t have to be at work for several hours. Today would be my first day with MBLIS, and I felt a small thrill of excitement go through me at the thought. I was admittedly a little nervous, as anyone would be when starting a new job in a new place, but more than that, I was excited. For so long, I had spent most of my workday sitting behind a desk in my small department of only two people. The police station I had formerly worked for was small in general and only had a handful of regular officers. The need for crime scene detectives in our calm little town was so small that aside from me, we’d only had one, an older officer named McNealy whose story was the opposite of mine. He’d once worked as a detective in downtown Chicago and had become so disillusioned by the horrors of what he’d seen in the city that he’d made a choice to move to Elko instead. It had involved a sizable pay cut, but he always claimed he didn’t mind. He much preferred the peace and quiet that came with living in such an uneventful place.

  It’s true what they say about the grass being greener, I thought to myself as I pulled myself into a seated position and swung my legs over the edge of the couch I’d slept on the night before. I’d noticed it sitting by the side of the road in a residential area near my own apartment on my drive hom
e last night. A sign crudely affixed to it with duct tape bore the word FREE in blocky, uppercase letters. It was a long, three-seated behemoth with thick wooden armrests and upholstered with worn looking, cream-colored leather. There were no cracks or obvious stains, though, and it looked significantly more comfortable than the lumpy floor of my apartment, so I didn’t hesitate before pulling up in front of it and hopping out of the cab of my truck to take a closer look.

  An initial attempt to lift it confirmed my suspicion that it was a heavy, sturdy beast of a couch, and I dropped it back on the sidewalk only a few seconds after attempting to lift it. I looked back toward the house I assumed the couch had emerged from but decided against knocking and asking for help. It was rapidly nearing ten in the evening, and if they left the couch on the curb with a sign inviting anyone to come and take it, it was likely they didn’t want to be bothered.

  I looked back down at the couch, determined not to let it beat me. I was only a few minutes from my apartment, and this couch wouldn’t even cost me anything.

  After lowering the tailgate, I went to work dragging and pushing the couch into position behind my truck so that one of the armrests was parallel to the bed. I took a deep breath and braced myself as I lifted one end up and onto the edge of the bed, wincing a little as the legs of the couch hit the joint between the tailgate and the main body of the bed. For a moment, I worried it would break off, but the truck was well built and held fast.