12: Crime SuspenStory

OUR STORY SO FAR:  The night of the McCarthy Paints Christmas Party has come and the Vice Squad is sending in their snitch equipped with a purse that is also a video camera.  Meanwhile, Jimmy Vaughn, the clean up man from out of town, has completed his mission and is headed off on a plane, but not before being called upon for one more job.

Based on true events.
Leo didn’t understand people who disliked Christmas. It was a moment to stay indoors, relax, reflect on the accomplishments of the year. People seemed to act with more respect, weren’t so quick to raise their voices. The rest of the year was for haggling and negotiating, all that other bullshit, Christmas was when you let it slow down and took a break from it all.
He walked over to the bar by the piano looking for the Vodka but Carolyn had already had her way with it. All that was left was the brandy and the whisky, the whisky would have to do. She was out of the house still, doing what? Shopping? Whatever it was, it involved spending a large amount of Leo’s money.
“In the corner boss?”  Bobby asked and Leo turned from the bar to the young man in the hall gripping the top end of a vertical fourteen foot pine tree.
“Not in here Bobby, in the den,” Leo said.
“The den?”
Good kid, capable. Not that sharp though.
“The den, one room over. Come on now.”
Leo pointed and Bobby backed out, nodding his head towards Vlad who was laboring with the pine tree’s trunk.
“Just throw it up boys, I got to get over to the Duck,” Leo called out, and went back to the whisky.
It was an easy day, all he had was the meeting with the cowboy and his runt side kick, then he would get ready for the party. He was thinking of possibly calling the new girl at Nip, Candy or Mandy or something. Gorgeous, with skin like porcelain, a body that made your heart ache. He hadn’t had a chance to see her since he got back and he was thinking she could meet him late, after the party, get the room at the Palomar.
He sipped his drink as Charlie floated across the white carpet towards him.
“That girls here,” Charlie said.
“Girl? What, the cleaner?”
“The young one. I don’t know how she found the house but she got a cab to bring her up.”
Leo put his glass down. By young one Charlie meant Judy, but what-?
“What the hell you talking about?”
“She’s at the door. I tried to tell her to get but she says she ain't going nowhere till she has a word with you.”
He went out through the hallway to see for himself and sure enough there she was, standing in her red bubble coat in front of the window by the door.
“Darl’n?” he said. She looked at him with the smile that he had admired until he didn’t anymore.
“Hi Leo, I hope I didn’t -”
“What are doing here darl’n?”
He looked through the big window, scanning the driveway for his wife’s car.
“I got’a talk to you Leo. I’ve been trying to get around to seeing you in person. I didn’t want to just call-”
“So you came to the house? You can’t be coming up here sweetheart. This isn’t acceptable. If you want to talk to me then you find me at the club or you make an appointment with Charlie or something. You don’t come up here.”
Leo used every fiber of himself to stay in control, not lose it right then and there.
“I would have. I tried to find you to talk but I couldn’t. I wouldn't have come all the way up here if it wasn’t important.”
He knew he had made a mistake. She was too young, nothing but a hick, probably a junkie. He knew some of the girls were on meth, and pills, all kinds of shit; as long as they didn’t let it affect business it was overlooked. But this, the girl showing up like this; this one had been a mistake.
He nodded at her, taking a breath before he said: “Alright, what was so important?”
The girl was looking at him with those blue eyes, she was damn pretty, pain or not.
“I’m pregnant,” she said and Leo nodded.
“So you need a little money? Something to help out while you take the time off?”
The girl was staring at him, he could see her bottom lip trembling.
“It’s yours Leo. That’s what I mean.”
He kept his face still. He didn’t think she had it in her to pull this.
“What are you talking about darl’n?”
“You're the only one I’ve been with. And I’ve thought a lot about it Leo: I understand you have your life, that this ain't maybe what you expected. But I think it’s a blessing. I think it means something to us, that we should at least try to make it work. I’m not going to push it on you but I want you to be a part of the baby’s life. You know what I mean? It’s not something we should worry about or be burdened by, it’s just what happens from love sometimes.”
Leo watched it all come out of her, the nonsense, the babble, all disjointed.
“Love?” he said.
She was looking back at him and he could tell she believed it. At first he thought it was a con but it was much worse.
“I remember how you said you sometimes wished you’d had kids of your own, how you thought you might have missed out. I didn’t mean for this to happen but it did, like it was meant to be.”
“Now listen sweetheart, I don’t think-”
He stopped short. She waited for him to finish and he could see the fear and the hope in her eyes, genuine. He had to be careful.
“I can’t believe this,” he said and forced himself to smile.
She threw her arms around his neck, held him close.
“I’m so happy,” she whispered in his ear and Leo was sick.
“You gotta get going, darl’n. I want to see you but I have to think about how to, how to move forward with the whole thing.”
“I know. I was shocked too,” she said.
“Right, I’m shocked,” Leo told her.

“When can I see you?” she asked.

“I’ll tell you what, we can meet and really talk, in a few hours or so. You come and meet me at the paint store, you know where that is right?”
She nodded quickly, oblivious, a stupid kid.
“Good, you meet me there at five, before the party. And we’ll talk about how we do this whole thing, okay? You gotta go now though.”
Her smile dried up when he mentioned the party but she leaned forward and desperately kissed him on the cheek. She stopped short before walking out the door.

“There’s something else,” she said.

“We can talk about it later.”

He touched her lightly on the back, helping her through the the door.

Charlie crept up the hall and watched Judy get into her cab.

“You got a problem?” he said.
“Get the guy from out of town on the phone, I need to talk to him,” Leo replied and headed towards the den to see if Bobby and Vlad had finished with the tree.

****

Claudia let the phone drop from her ear, she wasn’t leaving another message. Judy had always tested their patience, making them wait, always late, but this was way beyond that. She glanced over at the three other detectives sitting in the vice office, absorbed in their own cases. She dialed Dan.
“Yeah?”
“Any sign of her?”
“Nothing,” Dan muttered.
“Maybe you should go in?”
“I am in. I found the super and showed him my badge. I’m sitting on her couch right now.”
Claudia wasn’t going to let the panic in the pit of her stomach take over, she forced it back.
“I don’t care if she shows up or not, that little brat is going to jail,” Dan said.
“When you find her you need to be calm. This isn’t the time to put more pressure on her.”
“Pressure? That’s the problem, we let her get away with murder all the God damned time. She just has to go in there with that fucking purse. What’s the pressure?”
Claudia hung up. Judy had never been an easy read, always dull and unfocused, but this felt different, like betrayal. The thing that made Claudia grit her teeth and want to smash her cell phone against the wall was that they had been so foolish. She herself had been foolish. Hanging their last chance at intel on a naive girl, one that whined and dragged her feet through the whole process.

Claudia shuddered from the thought that she might have almost expected this, or something like it. She pushed the anger away and there was already an alternative forming in her mind. Instead of trying Judy again she grabbed her car keys off her desk and headed for the office door.

****

Judy walked the six blocks from the coffee shop to McCarthy Paints with the horribly feeling that the police were going to jump out at any second. She kept her eye on the street, looking for a flash of red from Claudia’s Honda. She had no idea what the dick cop drove and that made her stay close to buildings and shop doors, rushing by busy intersections

She was pretty sure if they had surveillance on her they would have appeared. She had spent the past few hours in the coffee shop, watching the door, realizing she hadn’t really thought it out, she hadn’t packed or prepared. The day of the party had crept up and that morning she realized that she had no choice but to make a full break.

She knew she was doing what was best for the baby by going to Leo. They were in it together now. When she first got out of the cab at his house she had been choked with doubt but that had gone away when she had taken him in her arms and held him. Protecting her baby meant protecting the baby’s father and now that he knew they could deal with the future together, including dealing with the police.

She reached McCarthy Paints and it was closed up, the doors locked, no lights visible through the windows. She made her way along the building to the cyclone fence where the gate was open to the back parking lot. There were a few trucks parked, along with a green Cadillac that looked familiar.
“How you doing there?”
Judy swung around and found a man standing near the dumpster smoking a cigarette, watching her. It took her a moment to realize it was the man she had spotted at Paradise Isle over a week ago, the man the police had wanted her to identify.
“I’m looking for Leo,” she said.
The man gave her a strange grin, dropped the cigarette on the cement.
“You must be Judy. Leo wanted us to bring you over to him. He got delayed I guess.”
The man shrugged and Judy turned when she heard the door of the Cadillac open behind her. Oscar Rayne stepped out, looked at her, then nodded at the other man before reaching back inside and popping the trunk.
“We just got to take a quick ride to meet Leo,” the man said. “He had a meeting but he should be done soon.”
He walked passed her towards the car, then stopped short.
“Let me see your phone,” he said.
“My phone?”

The grin flashed again before he reached out and snatched it from her. She tried to speak but his hand was over her mouth and the man was forcing her towards the car with her left arm pulled back behind her, the right reaching out, wild. She could feel his breath on her neck and ear, she could taste his cologne on her tongue, then she was in the trunk. He slammed it closed and Judy’s world went dark.

*****

The girl’s apartment was small and tacky, it was all pinks and cheap shitty furniture with clothes strewn about on the floor and in chairs like the bedroom of a teenager. Dan sat on the little Ikea couch and thought about calling his wife. He had been there for over three hours, his irritation building upon itself, exhausting him. He had almost nodded off a few times and had to go to the sink to splash water across his face and along the back of his neck.

Whe he found Judy he would put her right in the cuffs and drive her to Santa Rita himself. The little idiot had never taken him seriously, barely looking at him when he spoke. Claudia didn’t help when she was constantly contradicting him and speaking over him, taking the girl’s side. This McCarthy investigation was going down the drain like the others before it. He had thought right at the beginning that trying to take it on was a mistake when they got the green light, but Claudia had insisted. She had made him a believer. Maybe things would have turned out differently if someone had listened to him for a change.

Claudia was calling again and he picked up, hoping she hadn’t found the girl before he did.
“Meet me and Alex at the garage,” she said.
“You found her?” Dan asked.
“No, I’m sick of waiting. We’re going to Plan B.”
“What the hell is Plan B?”
Dan could hear a rustling and the line crackled as Claudia put her phone down and picked it up again. He repeated his question.
“I’m not totally sure yet but I have an idea,” she said.
An idea, oh boy. Dan got the same feeling of dread he had when she had called during the pursuit of Rollins, when she had put herself in danger on a hunch and a long shot. When his partner wasn’t being reckless she was being cold and standoffish.
“Are you there?” she said.
“Yeah, I mean-”
“Do you want to see this thing through still or what?”

He could hear the hard tone now, becoming hostile.

“Yes, Jesus.”
“Then here’s what I need you to do. Instead of coming to the garage I want you to go and find Rollins and bring him to where we posted the van last night.”

“Rollins? For what?”

“Just do it. I’ll explain when you get there.”

“But the party’s in a few hours.”

“Exactly. Hurry up.”

She hung up and Dan stood in Judy’s apartment. Once this whole mess was over he was asking for a transfer from vice, this shit was for the birds.

****

Vaughn was surprised, the girl didn’t scream or yell or make much noise at all.  They crossed the Golden Gate Bridge and got off the freeway and then he perked his ears, listening for a whimper at least. He was somewhat disappointed by the silence, especially out there where no one could hear her.

The kid flipped the headlights on as they drove up to the Marin headlands, like they had discussed at the paint store. Vaughn looked out passed the kid, the bridge and the City all laid out along the water, a real nice sight with the sun almost down, the sky closing in dark purple. He turned on the radio and lit a cigarette. Elvis was singing gospel, the chorus building up in volume as they reached the top of the ridge. Perfect music for a funeral, Vaughn thought.

They unloaded her and she finally made some noise, asking: “Where are we going, I don’t-” before Vaughn slapped her and told her to keep her mouth shut. Tears were streaming down her face and she was whimpering when they entered the cement tunnel that lead to the headlands. There was still some light, early enough for some dumb shit tourist or ranger to be lurking about. Vaughn pulled the tape he grabbed from the paint store and put a strip over the girl’s mouth while Oscar held her hands behind her.

They came out the other side of the tunnel and the sun was gone, the last of it’s light lingering on the horizon. The salt of the ocean was strong in the air. Vaughn pulled his gun and pushed the girl along with the barrel of the silencer, Oscar walked along the perimeter. They could see the girl’s shoulders shaking. She was very young, it made Vaughn wonder what she had done, what she knew. Not that he cared, a job was a job.

The ocean was vast beyond the cliff and before they reached the ledge Vaughn put his hand on the girl’s shoulder and pushed her to the ground. She crumpled easily, still shaking, as a light rain began to fall down upon  them. Vaughn snapped a round into the chamber and remembered that it rained when the Croat went too. It was funny, like a ceremony, like the world knew that someone’s time had come and marked the occasion with water.

He aimed the gun at the girl’s head and then remembered he still had two suits at the cleaners in Glendale. He needed to pick those up right when he got back or the Koreans were going to charge a fee. He was thinking about the Koreans and his clean suits when the bullet from Oscar’s gun drilled through the back of his head came out his eye.

I Wanna Grow Up To Be Kardashian

-by Sam Clemons

There are late depressing nights where I sit alone and think to myself: Is Kim Kardashian the most famous person in the world? Now I can't say how one could even measure such a thing besides traveling the globe and holding up her picture and waiting for a nod or a shake of the head. So, let's simplify: is Kim Kardashian the most famous woman in America? It is with great regret and reluctance that I say I believe she is, or at least, yes, quite possibly.

Now, before you react and assault this blog with letters and e-mails of outrage I want to say that I have evidence. I know many level headed individuals would say: "in the list of famous women it goes: Michelle Obama, Oprah, Lady Gaga, and Angelina Jolie. Kim Kardashian doesn't crack the top three!" I would have agreed with you until this afternoon, when I went to the grocery store.

I was standing in line, waiting to purchase my instant macaroni and fish sticks, when my eye passed over the tabloids that align the shelf before the check out. I saw only one Oprah (she seems to appear less frequently since 2009, I don’t know why, have people become less obsessed with her weight?). There was a Gaga, something about her wild weekend in somewhere or another. There was an Obama, two in fact, one story about her horrible temper, another about her ongoing war on fat people.

Now, and here's some of the evidence I mentioned earlier, Kardashian did not appear on one cover, or even two. She was on FOUR covers in that grocery line.

This made me pause, think back and wonder, what is she famous for again? I believe she’s on a reality show, I hear it mentioned, I’ve never seen it, but I’m aware of it, as you are (don’t deny it). But, let’s travel back a little farther and offer the question as to why she is on a reality show. Is she a chef? Does she have knowledge of something like food, or art, something that she’s an expert in? Was she once famous for something, like acting, or singing, maybe dancing. Was she at least a model for God’s sake?The answer is of course no, she did a sex tape.

I know this because I was in a writer’s group a few years back and everyone was late except for me and the person who was hosting it. We had nothing to do and nothing to talk about it so the woman turned on the TV and a show was on called “For the Love of Ray J”. It was a God awful reality show where a wide variety of tramps tried to seduce a little plump man-child named Ray J, (hence the name) in hopes of “winning”.

I had to ask my host who exactly Ray J was and she explained that he was Brandy’s brother. ‘Brandy?’ I said ‘The singer that had a sitcom something like ten years ago?’ My host nodded and I had to ask how being Brandy’s brother accounted for the amount of fame needed to receive a reality show about you. ‘Well, he also did that sex tape with Kim Kardashian.’

Ah ha. Okay, so why did I know who Kim Kardashian was? I don’t really know. I think someone had mentioned the sex tape and explained how ridiculous it was that she was famous for that. At least Paris Hilton had been famous for being rich and then did a tape. Kim Kardashian had done the tape and then become famous. God, I’m making myself sick right now.

The point is that I know who she is and so do you. We don’t really know why we know but we do. When you hear young people say they want to be famous, not for anything, just famous, they are referencing Kim Kardashian and her “career”. She is a star because she dresses up and goes to Starbucks to gets her picture taken. What does this mean really for our culture, our society, and the future of our children? I don’t know really, it’s just late and I’m alone, so there you go.

Sam Clemmons is an accomplished journalist with the Contra Costa Business Times and is currently writing a play entitled “Life: A story of Misery and Misfortune in Three Acts”.

11: Crime SuspenStory

OUR STORY SO FAR: Jimmy Vaughn's work is done: the rat is gone and discipline has been reestablished within the ranks. Meanwhile the Vice squad is preparing for the McCarthy Paint's Christmas party.  

Based on true events.

Twenty minutes passed and neither of them said anything. Oscar got Tek to bring him a whisky and sipped it, eyeing the few people that went in and out the door while Vaughn simply stared at the wall. The older man barely blinked or sipped his water, he seemed to be sleeping sitting up with his eyes open, meditating in a way that allowed him to tune out the television, the talk, everything around them.
He finally moved when Pat came up the stairs with an envelope and handed it off to him. Vaughn held it in his hand, weighing it,  before slipping it into the inside pocket of his sports jacket. Pat retreated back down stairs and Oscar got up to make his way to the exit when Vaughn grabbed his arm.
“I want to get a drink,” he said.
Oscar nodded and stepped back towards the bar.
“No. Somewhere else,” Vaughn said.
He led the way out the door and Oscar followed. They made their way up the street, the lights bright off the wet pavement. They reached the next bar and Oscar began through the door before Vaughn stopped him again and said: “Not here. Too many.”
He didn’t say “people” but Oscar knew what he meant. They continued down Columbus before Vaughn turned along Jackson. He headed towards a little hole in the wall, forgotten among the shops and walk up hotels. It was a cramped little room with three tables smashed together and some wooden chairs. The bartender was leaning against the bar reading the paper, ignoring the two old men and the woman at the other end. The woman was younger and covered in makeup, murmuring into the ear of one old man while the other looked on, red eyed and lazy, his head sagging into his chest.

“Two tequilas,” Vaughn said.

The bartender shifted from his paper and nodded. Vaughn looked over at Oscar and said: “Make it doubles. Two doubles of Cazadores.”

The bartender dragged himself over to the bottle, poured the drinks, then placed them in front of the two men. Vaughn and Oscar sat down at one of the tables, Oscar sipping at the tequila, wishing he had whisky. Vaughn held the drink up and eyed it for a moment before throwing it all down his throat with a flip of the wrist. He coughed briefly into his fist before leaning back in his chair, his body going slack as he breathed out.

“You shouldn’t let people talk to you like that,” he said, motioning for the bartender to bring another round.

“Who?” Oscar said.

“The mick. You can’t let no one talk to you like that. Other people see it and they lose respect.”

Oscar finished his drink, another was placed on the table.

“Just bring the bottle,” Vaughn said, handing over a wad of cash.

The bartender fingered through the money before skirting off. Oscar resigned himself to the fact that he was stuck and sat back in his chair. He said: “Sure.”

“Don’t sure me,” Vaughn muttered and threw back his second shot. “All you got in this business is your reputation. You got to have that. If you don’t have brains then you better have something. Brains will keep you out of jail and keep you working but a reputation keeps you alive.”

The bartender placed the bottle on the table, positioning it an equal distance between the two men.

“I just do the work and try to keep my head down,” Oscar said.

“You can do that. I’ve seen guys try. But it won’t lead anywhere and you’ll wash up quick.”

Vaughn refilled both of their glasses.

“What happens if you get hurt?” he asked the younger man.

“I got health insurance through the paint store.”

Vaughn did his third shot and shook his head.

“No, I mean real hurt. Hurt to where you're no use to nobody.”

“I’ve thought of that.”

“Have you?” Vaughn muttered.

“I’ll be out before something like that happens.”

Vaughn grinned at him and said: “And when you get out what are you gonna do?”

“Open a store. Or  a bar or something.”

“With what money?”

Oscar didn’t answer. He looked over at the two old men and the woman and wished he could leave.

“Exactly,” Vaughn went on. “That’s the kicker. You ought’a be moving up in Leo’s thing, he thinks you're capable enough. You just have to keep your reputation solid and not take any bullshit from these guys. Tough bastards come a dime a dozen. A crew like Leo’s needs more smart guys and a smart guy’s gonna think about his future too.”

Oscar nodded just slightly and Vaughn refilled both their glasses.

****

Claudia couldn’t help but listen to the people talk. She had nothing to do but sit there with the drink in her hand, holding the red purse. It was a man and a woman, both a little younger than her, and they both chatted about inane worthless things for the first few minutes. It was all superficial but Claudia sensed the tension in the tone of their voices. The man got quieter, asked how the woman had been and how things were. His tone shifted and it told Claudia the story. These two had been together, they had a history, one they dodged through superficial small talk. Soon the man would try to delve into it, probably in hopes of rekindling what once had been. Claudia could tell from the woman’s tone that he had no chance.

Claudia sipped her beer and tuned them out. She took another look around the bar, recapping, making sure she had got a good shot of everything. She had made her way around the room thoroughly when she first came in, acting like she was taking a close inspection of the Guinness posters, the framed newspaper clippings, while the purse filmed the bar and the tables and the doors and the hallway to the restrooms. She put her beer down, acted like she was reading a text message on her phone, while pushing the purse along the bar so the eye took in the pool tables and the juke box, all the exits.

It wasn’t upscale like the restaurant McCarthy owned in the Marina but it wasn’t a dive either. It had a beautiful hand carved bar and fish tank built into the wall. It was hidden away, low key, allowing for Leo to have all of his ‘associates’ come out and interact together, even those he would probably rather not be seen with, or they with him.

That night it was filled sparsely, twenty and thirty something hipsters who played pool and talked about bands. The next night it would be filled with criminals and strippers and the SFPD’s own little witness in the middle of it.

Claudia slyly pushed the purse down the bar, closer to the couple sitting next to her. She could tell from their body language that they had broken through the wall of small talk, getting down into the unfinished business, gesturing with their hands. The man was tall, with a beard, and he did most of the talking until the woman cut him short and threw a string of words back at him.

Claudia almost missed those sort of interactions, those dates, the confrontations. She didn’t miss the insecurity, mostly from the man, the resentment of her work and who she was. There was a degree of melancholy that budded inside her but she washed it away with the last sip of beer.

She left the bar and walked down Harrison before cutting across the street and stepping into the alley where the van was parked. It read Bay City Plumbing along its side. Claudia rapped her knuckles on the rusty paint and Dan rolled back the sliding door. She placed the purse carefully down in the passenger seat, then joined Dan and Alex in the back where the gear and monitors were set up.

Even without the seats it was still cramped inside. Alex tapped away at one of the two keyboards laid out in front of him while Claudia and Dan both ducked down and squeezed in to view the screens.

“Does everything sound okay?” Claudia asked.

“There’s a lot of the purse moving around, you know what I mean?” Alex adjusted the knobs on one of the audio units while he spoke. “It’s a design thing and pretty sure I can mess with the cone of the mic and make it come out better.”

“But can you make out specific words?”

“I think so.”

“Play it back for her,” Dan said.

Alex hit a switch on one of the boards and two voices came out of speakers above the monitors. Claudia knew it must have been the voices of the people next to her at the bar. First the woman said: “I never wanted you to think that. That’s why I  disappeared. I didn’t know what to say to you.” The man let out a sigh before saying: “But you can’t do that to someone. I would rather know what’s going on and be in pain then be in the dark and just in as much in pain.” There was music coming from the jukebox in the background and Claudia felt strange that she had piped that moment between the two people into the van to Dan and Alex.

“How does everything look?” she asked.

“It’s dark in there but it’ll work. The iris adjusts automatically.”

“I tried to get a good shot of the bartender when I ordered. Did you notice that?”

“Yes. You could see him clear as day,” Dan assured her.

“Good.”

““We should go over the pictures with Judy again,” he said. “I’ll grab them up from the office before we pick the van up.”

Claudia eased herself back into the driver’s seat in the front of the van.

“We need to be very clear with her about getting shots of everybody she recognizes from the clubs. Especially this new guy. Anybody like that.”

Claudia moved her gaze toward Dan who nodded. There was no point in going on, discussing the odds against them and the inevitable disintegration of their case.

****

They had made it to their fourth bar when Vaughn pushed himself away and muttered that he had had enough. Both he and Oscar had consumed numerous drinks, and Vaughn staggered from side to side, his face locked into an iron expression of disinterest. Oscar found himself drunk as well, falling into the fourth bar, tasting bile in the back of his throat.

The bartender had gone into the back after serving them both a shot and a beer and Vaughn had slapped his glass down, raising one of his fingers.

“You can tell everything from a man’s eyes, you know that?” he slurred “You can tell everything he knows, everywhere he’s been, everywhere- from his eyes. You can see the fucking ambition.”

His own eyes blinked and seemed to sink back into their sockets.

“I’ve always been able to see. Somebody's telling me something. I can see from their eyes it’s not true. They might be the best God damn actor in the world but I’ll look them in their eye and see what’s what.”

He leaned against the bar and picked up one of the beers that the bartender had left for them.  Oscar was watching him, watching his face change as it sagged a bit, the mouth frowning as the eyes fell farther back.

“Except that lion. The one in the woods,” Vaughn said and stumbled farther from the bar.

His eyes rolled up, shifted at Oscar, and he grabbed the younger man by the the arm, pulling him closer.

“You remember; the fucking animal. The way it looked at us.”

Oscar nodded.

“The lion in the woods,” Vaughn said.

Oscar took another sweep around the room. It was still empty. The bartender was still away in the back.

“It looked at us. Something in it’s eyes.”

Vaughn’s own eyes were wide. He pointed passed Oscar, to where where the mountain lion had come into the clearing.

“I’ve never felt that, that look. We were the fucking prey. And the look in it’s eyes........”

He trailed off, holding his body up, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

“It was like that thing knew something I didn’t.”

Vaughn stared out passed the clearing in his mind for a moment before bringing his gaze back to Oscar. He recognized the younger man again, and his face steeled back to the indifferent expression.

“Take me to the hotel,” he said.

Oscar flagged down a cab. When they pulled up Vaughn’s hotel he fell out onto the curb before staggering up the steps to the lobby. Oscar opened the door on his side of the cab and vomited into the street.

“You better not get none of that on my car now,” the driver said.

Oscar waved him off then vomited again.

“God damn it. You get your stinking ass out here now!”

The driver got out and came around, trying to grab Oscar’s arm. Oscar wiped his face, staring back at the man. The driver stopped, staggering a few steps back through some of the vomit, then returned to the front of the car and retrieved a bottle of pepper spray from under the seat.

“Get the hell out!” the cabby demanded.

Oscar didn’t protest, he opened the door and let himself out the other side, yanking a few bills out of his pocket that fluttered onto the seat folded and dead. The  driver tore off down California and disappeared. Oscar staggered back towards to his apartment, navigating his way through the blurred darkness. He closed his eyes when after falling into his bed and the spinning room disappeared. He fell instantly to sleep, thankful that he was too drunk to dream.