Now, as Tyrone maneuvered his way through the light rain, Sheila sat in the passenger seat chewing her thumb nail, staring out the window of the Dodge Caravan. She rocked back and forth, quietly humming the song Elizi had sung to her their last night together.

“What d’ya think Leonard’s gonna say?” asked Tyrone.

“I guess we’ll find out when we tell him,” said Sheila, annoyed to be disturbed.

“Should we go to the club tonight?” asked Tyrone.

“That’s where he said he would be. Just drive, OK?” snapped Sheila.

Tyrone bit his lip; he was never really sure how to act around Sheila when she got this way. He did know it was best to do as she said. Tyrone continued the drive to their budget motel on Pacific Coast Highway. The rain had changed to a heavy mist.   [Read more…]

As Joe walked down the hall he thought to himself how police work never ceased to amaze him. Part luck, part skill. He pushed the down button of the elevator and the door opened. He began his descent to the garage.

A little over twelve hours ago they had almost nothing. If it had not been for that kid freaking out in the courtroom they might still be stymied. But they were able to put a little piece here and a little piece there and the picture was starting to come together. They had a way to go before it was wrapped up and that could be any minute now.

He reached the garage and walked to edge of the overhang. He lit up a Camel and took a long drag, holding the smoke until he got the head rush from the oxygen deprivation. The rain had let up somewhat and was now no more than a heavy drizzle. The heavy clouds created a false night. The amber light of street lamps sparkled, reflecting off the wet pavement. Maybe it was the cigarette, but Joe felt relaxed. He was admittedly tired from the long night and day, but he felt relaxed from the satisfaction that they were about to put another deserving soul or two in jail.   [Read more…]

“There, pull up next to that van and stop,” said the big man. The van, an older brown-colored Dodge Caravan, sat parked next to the rear door of the bar.

Josef did as he was told.

“Wait here. Don’t even think about leaving. If the thought does cross your mind, Habib, just remember, I’ve seen what your family looks like and I might be inclined to pay them a visit.” He smiled menacingly as he got out of the cab and dashed the few short yards to the rear door of the bar and disappeared inside.

Josef turned around and looked down at the small man in the back seat. He turned back, raising his eyes, and sighed. The big man paid him; he was probably going to let him go, he thought. Wait here, that’s the best thing to do. It will all be over in a few minutes. Just a few more minutes.   [Read more…]

“Really? What have you got?” asked Colin, pulling his rapidly filling tablet open to the next empty page as he prepared to write.

“John Doe’s name is Alfred Schmidt,” began Morgan. “He was looking at doing some time in the joint for dope convictions. That was about six or seven months ago. He did a deal and was released after his ninety day evaluation at Chino. He was on parole, sort off. He was assigned a parole officer, Madeline Conklin, but only as a formality. He was under loan to the Feds as a C.I. From what Madeline tells me, it sounds like he was turning some pretty good stuff and getting paid too. Get this — he has been paid $74,000 in the past six months.”

“Jeez, we’re in the wrong line of work, pal,” interjected Colin.

“Judging from Mr. Schmidt’s current condition, you can have it. The down side to his line of work is a little too drastic for me,” said Morgan.   [Read more…]

“Wake up, Joe! Goddammit! You’re drunk again!” the voice shrieked at him, fingernails digging into his shoulders as he was shaken awake. He slowly opened his eyes to the enraged face of Francine. “You fucking drunk, where’s Joey! I can’t leave you alone for two hours.”

He bolted upright on the leather couch in his living room. Oh no, not again, he thought, his brain unable to make his mouth work. “Outside, hurry! In the back!” he was screaming, but no sound came. He lurched off the couch, crashing through the glass coffee table, slicing his arm, but feeling no pain. His blood spilled on the orange shag carpet which had the consistency and stability of Jello.

“Hurry, hurry, Francine! Not this time, we can save him,” he soundlessly implored her. No voice came from her mouth, her face contorted with jeering hatred. He slogged his way across the floor to the sliding glass patio door. He could not find the handle and began pounding on it. He could see the open gate just beyond which led to the swimming pool, the plastic Hot Wheels tricycle bobbing up and down at the edge. Suddenly he was in the pool, it was miles across. At the far side stood Joey, waving, beckoning him.   [Read more…]

An individual under the influence of LSD experiences mild cardiovascular stimulation and, of course, mild to severe hallucinations. Behavior exhibited by the user may fluctuate between catatonia and manic outbursts. To the inexperienced and unsuspecting, the hallucinations can range emotionally from pleasant to terrifying, consisting mainly of an altered perception of all the human senses. The individual’s environment also plays an important role in the “trip” experience as well.

As with many other legal and illegal substances, the human body tends to develop a tolerance and may require more to achieve the desired effect. And while the jury is still out on physical addiction, most professionals in the health care field agree that LSD can at least be psychologically addictive, leading to short or long term personality changes.

In other words, the effects of LSD remain unpredictable.   [Read more…]

“I didn’t know Pete was in the Corps,” said Joe.

“What?” said Colin, his voice detached.

“He’s got a bull dog with a helmet and “Semper Fi” tattooed on his right arm here,” said Joe, pointing to Pete’s bicep.

“What does that have to do with anything?” asked Colin rhetorically.

“Nothing. I just didn’t know Pete was a Marine,” said Joe as he shrugged his shoulders and walked away toward the girl’s body on the middle table.

Colin lingered by Pete for a moment and whispered, “I’ll get them, Pete. You rest now, buddy.”   [Read more…]

On her break ten minutes earlier, Beatrice had been told by the jail watch commander to notify him if anyone came to visit or bail out Douglas Peters. She was told he might have something to do with the murder of Officer Castillo the night before. Now here they were: a man and a woman to bail out Douglas Peters.   [Read more…]

“Clarence, Clarence…Clarence!” barked Charlie. “Look at me!”

Clarence responded obediently and robotically. His eyes were red and bloodshot. He had been unable to wipe his nose and a sheen of snot covered the space over his upper lip. “What’s going to happen to me?” he asked no one in particular, in a quiet trembling voice.

“That is entirely up to you m’boy. It depends on how well you can pull yourself together here and tell me about your friend in jail last night,” said Charlie in a serious voice.

“What friend?” asked Clarence.

“The guy you told me about. The one who killed a cop, Clarence,” Susan interrupted.   [Read more…]