That was the first time my father called him Colt. He never addressed him as anything else since.
“Jesus, what the f**k, Colt?” Morrie said upon seeing him. “Mom and Dad’s bar? Seriously? Who the f**k would do that?”
Alec’s gaze flicked to Morrie and he shook his head.
This was a good question, I thought. A dead body behind their bar? Crazy. My Mom and Dad were beloved in this town. So were their parents. So was Morrie.
Me? I wasn’t sure. Maybe.
Or at least, I once had been.
“You called 911,” Alec said and I looked at him though I didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Yeah.”
“You found her?” Alec asked.
“Yeah.”
“What were you doing in the alley?”
I stared at him not seeing then said, “Darryl.”
“Fuck. Fuckin’ Darryl,” Morrie muttered, now he sounded pissed.
“Darryl?” Alec asked.
“He never takes out the trash at night. I tell him, every night. Guy’s got nothin’ between his ears,” Morrie explained, telling the God’s honest truth about Darryl and pulling a hand through his thick hank of blond hair. “Leaves it at the backdoor and forgets. First person in in the morning, usually me or Feb, take it out.”
This wasn’t exactly true. The first person in in the morning was usually me, not Morrie. Though, I had to admit, on occasion, namely my rare days off, it happened.
“You on last night?” Alec asked me and I shook my head.
“Night off,” I told him.
“I was on,” Morrie put in.
Alec turned to Morrie. “Angie here?”
Morrie nodded. “Dude, she’s always here.”
This was true. Angie was a regular. She also regularly wore slut clothes and regularly got shitfaced and regularly picked up anyone who would f**k away whatever demons tortured her, though obviously these efforts never lasted long because she was always back again, usually the next night. Angie wasn’t hard on the eyes if you didn’t look too close and see what her lifestyle was doing to her skin. There was no lack of choice for Angie.
“She go home with someone?” Alec asked Morrie.
Morrie moved his neck in that funny way he did when he was uncomfortable, like he was pulling at a too tight collar and tie, even though he was wearing a t-shirt with a zip-up hooded sweatshirt over it and his hand never moved.
Then he said, “Cory.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” Alec muttered and he could say that again.
Cory’s wife Bethany was pregnant with their third child. Bethany was also a screamer. And Bethany was going to have a shit fit. It wasn’t the first time Cory strayed. Hell, Cory came on to me practically any time he got hammered enough to pull up the courage. It wasn’t the first time he dipped his wick in Angie either. This also wasn’t going to be the first time Bethany found out about Angie. Though it would be the first time Angie showed up the next morning dead in an alley and Cory would be involved in a murder investigation.
“You see anyone last night? Unfamiliar? Give you a bad feeling?” Alec asked Morrie and I knew this was brother-speak.
Alec would lay his career down on Morrie telling him he had a bad feeling about someone. Both of them could read people like books, something they could do forever. I’d never been able to lie successfully to either of them, not once, and I’d tried. It wasn’t surprising Alec became a cop, it was natural-born even if on the face of it, considering his parents and, well, how he used to be, you wouldn’t know it. It also wasn’t surprising Morrie took over the bar. Even in our town, which wasn’t huge, but also wasn’t small, the clientele was regular. Still, trouble could happen, especially when the races were on and anyone could wander in. You had to be able to weed the good from the bad so you could lock down the bad before shit happened.
“Nope, no one. Normal night at Jack and Jackie’s,” Morrie answered.
Alec looked at me. “Where’s the trash?”
I again stared and repeated, “The trash?”
“You said you went out to the alley to take out the trash. Crime scene, far’s I can see, is unaltered. Where’s –”
Alec stopped talking because I started moving. I wasn’t thinking much of anything. I didn’t even know why I was moving.
I plunked my coffee cup down, walked passed Alec and went to the bar. The heavy panel was already up and over on its hinges where I guessed I’d put it when I went in to make the 911 call. I walked behind the bar and stared at the two huge bags of garbage that were sitting on the floor by the phone.
I hadn’t even noticed I’d carried them back in and dropped them to make the call.
I turned around and saw Alec was standing close, his eyes on the trash.
“I just went to the door,” I told his throat, seeing his neck twist, his chin dipping down to look at me but my eyes didn’t move. “I just went to the door,” I repeated then my head jerked, my ear going toward my shoulder and I felt a weird pain in the back of my neck at the sudden movement. “I just went to the door,” I said again, for some stupid reason now whispering, “opened the door and saw her.”
That’s when I cried.
I didn’t feel anything, didn’t see anything, didn’t hear anything, didn’t taste the coffee in my mouth, just cried hard while my brain filled.
I saw her, I saw Angie and all her blood and all her exposed parts. Parts I should never see, parts with skin, parts without, all of it, all of her, lying lifeless in the alley by the dumpster.
Then I heard Alec say, “I got her,” and I realized his arms were around me.
I pulled away and stepped away. Distance with Alec, hell with anyone but especially with Alec, was good.
I swiped at my eyes, controlling the tears, not looking at him. “I’m okay.”
There was silence for awhile but Morrie moved in close to me. I could feel his bulk filling the long space behind the bar.
“You gotta walk me through your morning,” Alec said and I didn’t want to but I lifted my eyes to his.
“What?”
“Walk me through your morning, Feb,” Alec repeated.
“I came in to get ready to open –” I started.
“Your full morning,” Alec interrupted.
I felt my mouth open, my lips parting. I could feel the sensation of skin separating from skin like it was the first time I’d ever done it when I knew I’d done it before. It just didn’t feel like it then. It felt like the first time and it felt like my lips parted in slow motion.
“Jesus, what the f**k, Colt?” Morrie said upon seeing him. “Mom and Dad’s bar? Seriously? Who the f**k would do that?”
Alec’s gaze flicked to Morrie and he shook his head.
This was a good question, I thought. A dead body behind their bar? Crazy. My Mom and Dad were beloved in this town. So were their parents. So was Morrie.
Me? I wasn’t sure. Maybe.
Or at least, I once had been.
“You called 911,” Alec said and I looked at him though I didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Yeah.”
“You found her?” Alec asked.
“Yeah.”
“What were you doing in the alley?”
I stared at him not seeing then said, “Darryl.”
“Fuck. Fuckin’ Darryl,” Morrie muttered, now he sounded pissed.
“Darryl?” Alec asked.
“He never takes out the trash at night. I tell him, every night. Guy’s got nothin’ between his ears,” Morrie explained, telling the God’s honest truth about Darryl and pulling a hand through his thick hank of blond hair. “Leaves it at the backdoor and forgets. First person in in the morning, usually me or Feb, take it out.”
This wasn’t exactly true. The first person in in the morning was usually me, not Morrie. Though, I had to admit, on occasion, namely my rare days off, it happened.
“You on last night?” Alec asked me and I shook my head.
“Night off,” I told him.
“I was on,” Morrie put in.
Alec turned to Morrie. “Angie here?”
Morrie nodded. “Dude, she’s always here.”
This was true. Angie was a regular. She also regularly wore slut clothes and regularly got shitfaced and regularly picked up anyone who would f**k away whatever demons tortured her, though obviously these efforts never lasted long because she was always back again, usually the next night. Angie wasn’t hard on the eyes if you didn’t look too close and see what her lifestyle was doing to her skin. There was no lack of choice for Angie.
“She go home with someone?” Alec asked Morrie.
Morrie moved his neck in that funny way he did when he was uncomfortable, like he was pulling at a too tight collar and tie, even though he was wearing a t-shirt with a zip-up hooded sweatshirt over it and his hand never moved.
Then he said, “Cory.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” Alec muttered and he could say that again.
Cory’s wife Bethany was pregnant with their third child. Bethany was also a screamer. And Bethany was going to have a shit fit. It wasn’t the first time Cory strayed. Hell, Cory came on to me practically any time he got hammered enough to pull up the courage. It wasn’t the first time he dipped his wick in Angie either. This also wasn’t going to be the first time Bethany found out about Angie. Though it would be the first time Angie showed up the next morning dead in an alley and Cory would be involved in a murder investigation.
“You see anyone last night? Unfamiliar? Give you a bad feeling?” Alec asked Morrie and I knew this was brother-speak.
Alec would lay his career down on Morrie telling him he had a bad feeling about someone. Both of them could read people like books, something they could do forever. I’d never been able to lie successfully to either of them, not once, and I’d tried. It wasn’t surprising Alec became a cop, it was natural-born even if on the face of it, considering his parents and, well, how he used to be, you wouldn’t know it. It also wasn’t surprising Morrie took over the bar. Even in our town, which wasn’t huge, but also wasn’t small, the clientele was regular. Still, trouble could happen, especially when the races were on and anyone could wander in. You had to be able to weed the good from the bad so you could lock down the bad before shit happened.
“Nope, no one. Normal night at Jack and Jackie’s,” Morrie answered.
Alec looked at me. “Where’s the trash?”
I again stared and repeated, “The trash?”
“You said you went out to the alley to take out the trash. Crime scene, far’s I can see, is unaltered. Where’s –”
Alec stopped talking because I started moving. I wasn’t thinking much of anything. I didn’t even know why I was moving.
I plunked my coffee cup down, walked passed Alec and went to the bar. The heavy panel was already up and over on its hinges where I guessed I’d put it when I went in to make the 911 call. I walked behind the bar and stared at the two huge bags of garbage that were sitting on the floor by the phone.
I hadn’t even noticed I’d carried them back in and dropped them to make the call.
I turned around and saw Alec was standing close, his eyes on the trash.
“I just went to the door,” I told his throat, seeing his neck twist, his chin dipping down to look at me but my eyes didn’t move. “I just went to the door,” I repeated then my head jerked, my ear going toward my shoulder and I felt a weird pain in the back of my neck at the sudden movement. “I just went to the door,” I said again, for some stupid reason now whispering, “opened the door and saw her.”
That’s when I cried.
I didn’t feel anything, didn’t see anything, didn’t hear anything, didn’t taste the coffee in my mouth, just cried hard while my brain filled.
I saw her, I saw Angie and all her blood and all her exposed parts. Parts I should never see, parts with skin, parts without, all of it, all of her, lying lifeless in the alley by the dumpster.
Then I heard Alec say, “I got her,” and I realized his arms were around me.
I pulled away and stepped away. Distance with Alec, hell with anyone but especially with Alec, was good.
I swiped at my eyes, controlling the tears, not looking at him. “I’m okay.”
There was silence for awhile but Morrie moved in close to me. I could feel his bulk filling the long space behind the bar.
“You gotta walk me through your morning,” Alec said and I didn’t want to but I lifted my eyes to his.
“What?”
“Walk me through your morning, Feb,” Alec repeated.
“I came in to get ready to open –” I started.
“Your full morning,” Alec interrupted.
I felt my mouth open, my lips parting. I could feel the sensation of skin separating from skin like it was the first time I’d ever done it when I knew I’d done it before. It just didn’t feel like it then. It felt like the first time and it felt like my lips parted in slow motion.
