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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Detective · #2338408

A detective's chaotic evening at a nightclub pays off...

Daniel Eric Sullivan flipped a pen between his fingers, clicking it open and shut repeatedly against his desktop. He glanced up with a faint, distracted smile as his wife and sleuthing partner Reema entered the home office with a fresh, aromatic pot of coffee.

"Morning, Dan. What gives?"

"Weird stuff." He tossed aside the pen and reached for a cup. "An anonymous tipster just called to tell us someone wants to bump off Inky Jones, the owner of the Mayday nightclub in town."

"Can we verify that?" Reema sat beside him.

"Inability to verify veracity of claims is the hallmark of anonymous tips," Dan intoned with an attempt at humor. "The number's untraceable, so I started researching the owner. Seems like the type of person who makes a lot of enemies."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Dan opened his laptop to run down his notes. "He likes to fire people. He's got a casino next door to the club. Customers complain it's rigged. His restaurant has a pile of bad reviews, the police have been called a few times, and it's basically a seedy joint."

"So we're supposed to do what, exactly?"

Dan shrugged.

"If someone's got a grudge against him, they might go shoot up the club. We should warn him so he can take precautions. Even if he's a questionable character, his patrons shouldn't get caught in it."

Reema yawned and poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Anyone who would patronize a place like that is questionable, in my opinion."

"You're being judgemental," Dan reproved absently. "I'ma call, warn him something's up."

When Inky Jones answered, he was not at all impressed.

"Some two-bit private eye claiming I'm in danger?" He laughed thickly. "That's a new one. Go find someone else to trick into hiring you, kiddo."

"I'm not a kidā€”" Dan was cut off by the dial tone. "Sheesh. Now what?"

"Guess he's not taking you very seriously."

"If he dies and I could have prevented it, it'll haunt me for the next decade or so." He fidgeted with the pen again. "Hey, how about we go there tonight and see if anything's afoot?"

Reema's jaw dropped.

"Hang out at a nightclub? What do you take me for?"

"Look, it's the last place I'd care to spend an evening either, but if someone's life is at stakeā€¦"

"Wouldn't we be risking our lives?"

"We might be able to spot someone acting suspiciously, casing the joint. Treat it like a date, hon. We get to eat out and dance the night away."

"Ugh. I'd rather eat in and fall asleep over a good book!"

"It's called having fun."

"Fine, fine." Reema rolled her eyes. "If we can prevent a murder from happening. But what's the chance we'll see anything suspicious?"

"More than if we stayed home."

***

"Wonder why they call it Mayday," Dan mused as he swung into the pitted parking lot just after sunset. "Isn't that the distress signal?"

"Probably what all the patrons say after they've been here a few minutes," Reema grumbled.

She pulled down the courtesy mirror and checked her brown hair one last time, adjusting her rhinestone necklace. Dan smiled, admiring her eyes shining in the gaudy neon lights.

"My darling, you look wonderful tonight."

"Aww. I hope you're not planning on getting sloshed, like the song. I don't feel like being your designated driver."

Dan chuckled. He knew neither of them would be drinking.

Inside, rhythmic blasts of bass sound waves hit them like a tsunami. Disco balls sent murky shadows flickering in and out between dizzying flashes of multicolored lights. Dancers crowded the floor. The air smelled of too many people and not enough air conditioning.

Dan led his wife to a table at the back of the room and brought forth a menu. A slovenly waiter scratched his head, grinning vapidly at them as they placed their orders.

"Drinks to go with that?"

"Non-alcoholic strawberry daiquiri, please." Reema scanned the menu.

"I'd like a non-alcoholic piƱa colada," Dan affirmed.

"What, no booze?" the waiter smirked. "Ain't you here to have fun? It don't take two of you to drive home."

"We don't do booze, thank you very much," Reema frowned.

"We're only here becauseā€”" Dan started. Reema made a face and whacked at his leg under the table. "We're waiting for another couple to show up. Uh, they're late."

As they ate, Dan scanned the crowds for anything untoward. A hefty bouncer stood at the door, sending out ominous glares between yakking with people and slurping a soda. Dan wondered how anyone could hear themselves think in such a madhouse. Then he figured they weren't there to do any thinking.

"I don't trust that waiter," Reema whispered, leaning forward. "Look, he's staring at us from the kitchen. And they haven't brought our drinks yet."

"Shh," Dan waved a finger imperatively.

The couple behind him were talking; only a few words drifted through, but Dan was certain he'd heard something about a bank heist. He didn't want to turn around to see who they were, so he picked up his phone and opened the selfie camera.

He poked and peered, taking a couple of pictures for good measure. The woman, who was facing him, noticed his brightly lit screen and gave him a suspicious, photo-bombing glare. But the man, facing away, was oblivious. Dan lounged back in the seat, craning his ears, trying to filter past the booming electronic dance music.

"Next Wednesdayā€¦ old Crown Vicā€¦ Central Bankā€¦ West Elmā€¦"

"You sure you should discuss it here?" the woman snapped, her higher voice rising above the din.

"Not like anyone can hear us," the man laughed. "You think we're bugged or something?"

Dan scribbled notes on the back of a napkin, capturing the words he was straining to hear. Reema squirmed, pushed her plate away and stood up.

"This food is making me sickā€”I gotta run to the restroom."

Dan looked up, wanting to give her a word of comfort, but she was already gone. He sighed, resting a hand on his forehead. The throbbing music and stuffy air was giving him a headache. No wonder she wasn't well. He began to regret wasting a night at the Mayday.

"Hey, good-looking, whatcha got cooking?" A shrill voice pierced his ear.

Dan jumped and turned to look up at a fluffy blonde woman with too much makeup.

"Iā€”whaā€”who?" His words faltered from the intensity of eavesdropping.

"Name's Monica, dearie. So nice to meet you." She plopped down in Reema's spot and leaned over cozily. "I love your sandy curls!"

Dan pulled back in alarm, eyes darting around the room.

"I'm sorry, I'm a married man. My wife went to use the restroom."

"Oh, don't be such a stodgyā€¦"

"For gosh sakes, I'm not the one for you!" He pointed to his ring finger. "But I hope you find them soon."

He gestured vigorously to the bouncer. She must be drunk; it would be difficult to get her to leave him alone beforeā€”

Too late. Reema came out of the restroom, spotting them immediately. She looked like a supermodel striding towards the table, dark eyes blazing. Dan opened his mouth to explain as the bouncer approached, but chaos erupted.

"Dan! Who is this floozy you're talking to?!"

"I'm not doing anything! She came up and started flirtingā€”obviously she's drunkā€”sir, would you please remove her from our table?"

The bouncer smirked and led Monica away, leaving Dan alone with a hysterical Reema.

"How could you do this to me? I leave for two seconds and you're letting cheap bimbos sit down with you! I suppose that's part of your investigation?"

"Honey, I'm sorry." Dan held out his hands across the table. "I swear it was a mistake. She pounced on meā€”"

"Oh indeed! I bet this was a plot! Why would you go to a nightclub unless you're meeting someone? I bet you never got a tip about the owner at all!"

"What? I can't believe you'reā€”"

Reema grabbed her purse and stood up, nostrils flared, eyebrows bunched.

"Fine, thenā€”if you want to hang out with hot singles, go right ahead! I'm leaving!"

Dan stared blankly as she stormed out of the dance hall. Even in her fury, she was stunning. He leaped up, leaving everything on the table as people around him snickered.

"Reema! Wait for meā€¦"

He caught up with her in the quiet, musty lobby, where she was shaking with suppressed tears. Dan put an arm around her shoulders and held her close.

"Honey, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met. I could never be unfaithful to youā€¦ and this would be a ridiculous way to go about it."

She took a deep breath, blinking up at him with a quivering laugh.

"Iā€”I'm sorry. I guess I overreacted. It's just too overwhelming in thereā€”would you believe the music is blasting in the restroom too? My head is spinning, and I'm still sick."

"It's ok. I know you must be feeling awful. Let's get out into the peace and fresh air. I have rather fragmentary evidence of a serious crime underway."

***

Dan sent the selfies he'd taken that night to law enforcement. The woman turned out to be wanted in another state, though the man couldn't be identified from his back view.

That, and the bits of conversation he'd overheard, were enough to warrant a police watch at the Central Bank on West Elm. The heightened presence resulted in the capture of the woman, her partner, and two others in an attempted bank robbery.

"That worked out," Dan said to Reema over the morning paper a few days later. "I wonder, though, if we should be concerned about the tip. I don't suppose you want to go back to the Mayday for another stake-out?"

"Not on your life!"

The phone rang. Dan put it on speaker.

"Inky Jones here. You still thinking I'm gonna be bumped off?"

"Uh, yeah. I was toldā€”"

"You were told by me, kiddo. I had to create a pretext to get you in my club to investigate without actually hiring you."

"Investigate what?"

"You realize how dangerous it is to run a joint like the Mayday? I gotta pretend I don't know what goes on in there. But I gotta draw the line somewhere. I knew that couple was cooking up trouble."

Dan's eyebrows raised. Reema shot him an "I told you so" look. He stifled a chuckle.

"Would you be interested in paying us for the services we provided, then?"

"Actually, you owe me. You two walked out without paying your bill! I shoulda called the police on you."

Dan rolled his eyes as Reema sputtered on her coffee.

"Your nightclub earns maybe two stars, but whatever. I'll pay you so we don't get on your hit list."

"Good idea. I suggest I never see you in my club again."

"Suggestion gladly accepted, sir."

Dan put down the phone and shook his head.

"Wellā€¦ that was like, really weird."

"Hey, at least we prevented a bank robbery. And we did it together."

Reema smiled at him. They laughed heartily.


notes
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