White Night

Chapter 24

Connors lit up the car, lights and sirens clearing a partial path as Ross swerved through the last of the evening traffic. Uniform was already on their way, but they were starting from behind. Garcia confirmed that he'd given the other "cop" the list of names about forty minutes ago.

They arrived at the worker's apartment within ten minutes. Officer Santos was already at the apartment door.

"He inside?" she asked.

"No, just the roommate, says he hasn't seen him all day," Santos replied.

"I thought we verified these guys earlier?"

"Roommate covered for him. Pretended to be the guy."

"Why?"

"Said he didn't want him to get into trouble with his boss."

"Get him out here," she snapped.

Ross stayed back, monitoring the hallway behind them.

The roommate appeared and she found herself wishing for anyone but this guy. Half-asleep, barefoot, and wearing boxers and a creased T-shirt, he smelled like a frat house.

"I didn't do it," he joked, holding his hands up in mock submission as he uttered the line guaranteed to piss off any officer after hearing it for the ten thousandth time in their career.

"You using?" Connors asked.

"What? Nah...just...erm...been sleeping." He leisurely scratched his balls.

"Where's your roommate?"

"Told the cop, I dunno, he's been gone for a day or so."

"Where do you think he might be?"

The roommate rubbed his mop of hair and looked down at his bare feet. "Probably shacked up with a lady." He smiled creepily, looking her up and down.

She didn't have time for this.

"There's a good chance he's dead, and you if you don't start helping us, whoever is looking for him will be coming for you next."

The roommate suddenly woke up.

"What...why?"

"Don't have time to explain right now. Where could he be?"

"Erm...local bar. He said he met a woman two nights ago and he got some action, but then she didn't call him and he's been looking for her since."

"What's her name?"

"Dunno, but she was hot."

Not helpful...

"Which bar?"

"He met her at The Core."

"Fine. Can you stay with him?" she asked Santos, who nodded and escorted Frat Boy back into his apartment.

While Ross drove the six blocks to The Core, she called Tech for a trace on the construction worker's phone. Marco Rivera's cell had pinged off a tower a block from the bar a few minutes ago but was turned off now. The roommate had better be right about The Core. There were half a dozen bars in the area, and without access to the GPS on his phone, the cell ping only told them that Marco was within a few blocks.

Ross drove slowly down the street outside the bar and she turned off their flashing lights and quieted the sirens. They didn't need to spook the locals by announcing their arrival. There was nowhere to park, but there never was in Park Slope at nine thirty on a Friday night.

He started to pull in closer to the line of cars parked on their right. They'd have to double park, no choice with a life at stake.

"I'll leave it here—" Ross started, then stamped on the brakes as a dark sedan swept out of its parking spot right in front of them.

"What the hell?" she shouted as she jumped out of the car. The other driver waved a hand at them casually but continued crawling forward, then stopped half-in, half-out of the parking spot on the street.

They didn't have time to cite anyone. Finding the construction worker before the killer did took priority, but The Core was a cop's worst nightmare to search: packed with people, loud and cramped, with thick brick pillars and a large wrap-around bar blocking their view of most of the tables. They'd have to split up.

She went straight to the bartender, while Ross went around the other side of the bar to check out the tables dotted between the pillars.

"Hey, you know Marco?" she shouted above the music and chatter.

"Who wants to know?" the bartender shouted back.

"Amber, I met him here before and we had some fun." She smiled, twisting a lock of hair around her finger.

Producing her shield in a bar could have unexpected results; she didn't need half the patrons to run and the other half to start taking selfies.

"You the one he's been looking for?" the bartender asked, his eyes gravitating to her breasts.

She nodded and smiled again, resisting the urge to grab the bartender's jawbone and pull his face back up to her eye level.

"Try out back. He went with some friends, probably buying weed."

"Thanks," she replied.

Ross approached her, shaking his head. He hadn't found him.

"Bartender said out back," she shouted, weaving through tables and half-drunk twenty-somethings.

They pushed open the rear door. The alley behind was dark, with garbage piled haphazardly and the delightful stench of piss, stale beer, and recently smoked dope, but they weren't the only ones out there.