Chapter 50
Afew minutes later, headlights raked across the building as another car pulled into the parking lot. A door opened, then closed. Footsteps crunched across the ground. They drew near, and the rusty warehouse door squealed open. Light from a nearby streetlamp flooded in, backlighting the figure.
It was another officer.
The silhouette approached.
I couldn't see much with the flashlight shining in my eyes, but I figured it was Howell.
"Start talking, dipshit," he commanded when he stepped to me.
"How about those Barracudas? They sure are kicking ass this year.”
"I'm gonna ask you again, and you’re gonna give me a straight answer. What the fuck are you doing here? Why have you been following me around for the last two days?"
"Everybody needs a role model. I just wanted to shadow a man of your caliber. See how you work."
He cocked his fist back, and through the darkness, his knuckles connected with my face. It sent a jolt down my spine and wrenched my head aside.
I can't say it felt good.
The punch split my lip, and the tinny metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I spit a pinkish mix of goo onto the floor with a splat.
"Look, buddy," Howell said. "I don't know if you’ve figured it out yet, but I don't give two shits who you are or where you came from. But you’re gonna be swimming with the fishes if you don't tell me what you're investigating.”
"I'm not investigating anything."
His fist careened toward my face again. It hit my cheek and rattled my brain.
"I can keep this up all night, dipshit.”
"Where's the girl you took to the parking lot?"
"What!?"
"The girl. Where is she?”
"I let her go. You really screwed that one up for me. Is that what this is about?”
"How often do you do that kind of thing?”
Howell laughed. "You can't be serious?”
"You have no idea how serious I can be."
He kept laughing. "Unbelievable. So this has nothing to do with the cocaine? This is all about me getting a little ass on the side?”
"I don't like dirty cops."
He laughed. "I'm just engaging in a little free market activity.
I'm offering these girls a way to save themselves from a lot of heartache.
They can either go to jail or they can get on their hands and knees.
Seems like a win-win to me." He chuckled, and his friends laughed.
"My friend, you messed with the wrong people," Howell continued. “You’ve made a big mistake.”
"I think you're the one who's made a mistake," I said.
That amused him. "From where I'm standing, you're the one who's in deep shit."
Another car pulled into the lot. Doors opened and closed. Feet hit the ground, and footsteps drew near.
Howell commanded his associate to "See who that is.”
The other officer hustled to the window and peered out. “Shit. We’ve got a problem.”