2 Happy Hour Murders Part II

X

Belinda Ramirez was a prisoner in her own apartment in Las Colonias, a low rent district for Section 8 housing. When she found out she was roofied, there was no rape but there was a big lump on her head, she figured she got the better of the situation. But still she didn't want to go anywhere and she certainly didn't want to go alone. However, alone is what she is. She moved from San Antonio to Corpus Christi on her own and she had no family to speak of, really.

Today she was thinking about going to get groceries. She was running low and since the incident, almost a month ago, she hadn't really left the apartment unless it was early in the morning. She figured most criminals were asleep at 6:30 a.m. so she'd sneak out then and go and grab whatever she needed or go and do laundry. She didn't have to work because she was living on a small allowance she got from an inheritance from a distant aunt. But she wasn't allowed the whole of the inheritance, $2.3 million, until her 33rd birthday, which is some 11 years away and completely iron clad.

She worked when she wanted to and that wasn't too often. Every once in a while she wanted more money than she was getting in allowance but then the rigors of answering to someone else got tiring, then the allowance didn't seem so small. The allowance is $900/month, take home. Not a whole lot to live on but just enough to get by, especially in Corpus. How she ended up in Section 8 housing with a $2.3 million inheritance, no one knew. Her friends thought she was just lucky and a little lazy but mostly lucky.

There was a knock at her door.

"Hello? Belinda Ramirez?"

"Who is it?" Belinda answered without even cracking the door.

"Belinda, this is Angela Wisdom. I'm a private investigator, I need to ask you some questions regarding the incident at Humpy's."

She cracked the door; two chains still in place. "Let me see some I.D."

Angela showed her P.I. license.

Belinda closed the door, slid the chains and let Angela in the apartment. There was a homespun bohemian madness to the décor. Dia de los Muertos skulls on the coffee table, furniture from the curb-side trash heaps, handmade furniture throws and curtains and sketches and paintings tacked on every inch of wall space. Some of the art was quite good and some of it was absolute crap. But it went together. It was all born, it seemed, of raw emotion. None of it was really level or steady but at the very least it wasn't boring.

"So who hired you?"

"The mayor."

"To investigate MY incident? Come on."

"Well, we think your incident may be related to the disappearance of another woman and the subsequent death of yet another lady."

"That's a stretch." Belinda said with a sideways glance at Angela. She picked up a needle and thread; she was embroidering a rooster on a loose piece of canvas.

"You haven't heard the …well yeah it's kind of a stretch and nothing really adds up yet except that it's a strange set of coincidences that all happened in a relatively short amount of time at one place and a place where things like this just don't happen."

"Well, thing is it's all in the statistics, isn't it? A place open for as many decades as Humpy's has and nothing like this has ever happened? Statistically speaking, it was bound to have happened. Some major crime would have to take place. If it didn't happen now, then when?"

"OK, but don't you want to know who did this to you?"

"What would that help?"

"Well, then the person would be caught and if he's the same person who killed the mayor's sister then he'll go away forever."

"The mayor's sister? She's the one who got killed. That's why then. Otherwise, this would have been a non-issue, wouldn't it have? And the missing girl would just be missing and never given another thought. Well unless she's the mayor's cousin."

"I can't lie. No, no one probably would have given it a second thought."

"And I should help you why?"

"You should help me because it would help you in the end. Sure a lot of what happens in the city goes unnoticed and un-prosecuted. It's not right but statistically speaking, things are bound to get overlooked."

Belinda looked sharply at Angela. "Alright," she said. "What do you want to know?"

"So you were in the bar and you were talking to the bartender, what did you ask him?"

"Well there was some talk about my inheritance my aunt left me."

"OK?"

"The thing is that my aunt was somehow related to the McDurvels who own Humpy's and other things in this city. That's where she got her money. But I'm not sure how she was related to them and what not. She was the only relative I had left. And she was a distant aunt at that. I just want to know if I have family. I live simply, the inheritance I have will last me a life-time. I'm not the party girl type or the shopping type. So I'm not after money, I just really want a family."

She seemed so alone, so singular; so untrusting and yet hopeful.

"So you were asking about the McDurvels. But you also mentioned some of the regulars, Phillip and Onetta. How do you know them?"

"Well I don't," Belinda said with a sigh. "I saw Onetta when I first walked in and she's just stunning. I'm something of an artist and when I see beauty, true beauty, I have to know more about it."

"…about it." That rolled around in Angela's head for a while.

"So I asked the bartender who that man and woman were. He told me Phillip and Onetta…Onetta, it's just such an old world name and so befitting of old world beauty…anyway I inquired about them because they were walking together and I didn't want to seem weird just asking about the lady. I didn't find that man all that remarkable. He seemed average."

Angela chocked back a chuckle. "They said they served you one drink, a Cuba Libre and that was it. Do you remember having anything else before going to Humpy's?"

"Oh no, I rarely drink. I'm a social drinker but I don't seek social situations out all that often. So it's rare. Cuba Libre is the perfect combination of rum and coke and the lime cuts it just right. If made well, that is."

"Did you notice anything funky with the taste?"

"Nope. It all just seemed so uneventful. I walk in, I see a beautiful older lady and I asked about her and her friend. I order a regular drink and I sat down to enjoy it. While the bartender made my drink he was standing right in front of me and I asked him a few simple questions about the McDurvels. But next thing you know, minutes later, everything went wonky and all out of sorts. I felt someone grab my arm and I jerked away and I headed for the bathrooms. Then I wake up in the E.R. at St. Luke's."

Angela cocked her head, "Was this your first time at Humpy's?"

"Yes."

"How did you know where the bathrooms are?"

"I asked."

"How could you ask you were spinning out in a roofied haze?"

"I saw them."

"No you didn't, not from where you were sitting. No one ever sees them. People have to be directed every single time."

Belinda got silent and then said in a low voice, "I think you need to leave."

"I'm not leaving until I get an answer. What are you hiding?"

"I'm calling the cops."

"Go for it, I'm sure they'll be just as curious as I am." Angela was standing with her hands on her hips and about as intimidating as she could possibly be.

There was a forceful knock at the door.

"Belinda Ramirez? This is Det. Bruno of the Corpus Christi Police Department."

Angela watched Belinda carefully as she opened the door and loved every minute of watching Bruno's face as he took in the scene realizing that Angela beat him to Belinda.

"Figures." Bruno said half under his breath. "So what are we doing here?"

"Well this chick won't go away." Belinda said pointing at Angela.

Angela took slight offense, "Oh yeah, tell him why." Belinda was quiet. "Fine, I'll do it. It seems Miss Belinda has something to hide. She said it was her first time in Humpy's but she knew, even in a roofied haze where the bathrooms were. She's been there before but she won't say why and she is somehow related to the McDurvels."

"Hmm, very interesting," Bruno was conjuring up a line of questions but Belinda blindsided him.

"You know what, this just isn't worth it. I'm done. The fact of the matter is that my aunt was related to the great and fabulous McDurvels but they're harder to get to than the Pope. And God forbid an outsider makes a claim to be kin…I'm tired."

Angela almost felt sorry for Belinda which is why she said, "You've been talking to the wrong people and you certainly haven't talked to Hank McDurvel. Hank's a great guy and he won't just blow you off. Which McDruvel did you try to talk to?"

"Travis McDurvel."

"Well, right there, that's the problem. Travis isn't the…er…well, he's just a…"

"Dick, he's a dick," Belinda finished what Angela was trying not to say.

"Yeah…yeah, that's more like it. But that still doesn't answer why you lied about going to Humpy's before."

Bruno chimed in, "While we're at it who was it that you were texting and what were you texting about? And mind you, we can pull your records of even deleted texts. So don't lie."

"It was a friend from San Antonio, really my only true friend in the world. I was missing her company and so I was texting her. She knows what I'm going through here so she's sympathetic to my cause. So go ahead and look up my text records, you can see the whole conversation for yourself. I'm done talking."

"Hold it you still haven't answered my question about lying in the first place."

"Isn't it obvious?" Belinda asked.

Angela and Bruno stared blankly.

"Well I lied about being in Humpy's prior to the incident because it's all so embarrassing. And when I talked to Dickhead McDurvel he made it sound like I was some how soiled and only after the McDurvel fortune. Then I get roofied? Seriously, what the fuck? I would just rather forget it all. Fuck the McDurvels! Fuck it all! I'm tired. Now will you please leave?"

Angela said, "Yes but first I need you to answer this question; did you recognize anyone from your prior ventures to Humpy's? Did anyone recognize you?"

"No. I don't remember anyone saying, 'Hey Belinda! Good to see you again! Here's a roofie.'"

Angela said, "Well if you remember anything will you give me a call?" She held out her card and Belinda didn't make a move to take it. So Angela laid it on the coffee table.

"I am going to look up your texts and if I find anything squirrley then I will be back for you," Bruno's threats were never empty.

"Yeah, I'm going too but just so you know, Hank and Travis are two entirely different people. Hank is definitely not a dickhead. So think about giving him a chance to help you out."

Belinda, in answer, just held the door open for Bruno and Angela and shut it harshly as soon as their feet cleared the threshold.

"Well you know how to make an impression Miss Wisdom."

"Hey now, she's not exactly warm and cuddly…quite frankly I can see why she is so very alone."

Bruno nodded in agreement. They got into their vehicles and sped off. Bruno headed to the crime scene department to see about those texts. No sense in sweating Belinda for the info, she closed up quick and wasn't about to be bullied into answering a bunch of questions, even if it was for her own good. Angela headed back to the law office to give Waylon the skinny on Belinda and her connection to the McDurvels.

Belinda sat down on her couch and was preparing to call her best friend, Griselda Delgado and there was a knock at the door.

"Seriously? Can't you people take a hint?" She flung the door open. "What the fuck do you want?"

XI

Angela glided into Erma's office, "Hello Erma. Is Waylon in his office?"

"Yes ma'am, he is. Go right in, he's anxious to see you."

Angela wafted into Waylon's office and landed on the couch just as daintily as a butterfly on a flower's petal. Waylon looked up from a pile papers, "Hmmmm, someone has some good chisme."

"Mi chisme es muy bueno."

"OK, spill the beans."

Angela set in and told Waylon all about her visit to Belinda's house.

"Ohhhhhh really? I wonder how Travis took the news. Well, I can guess he was probably a jerk about it. Private investigators get the best gossip." Waylon smiled at Angela. "Have you spoken to Hank about this yet?"

"No, not yet. I'll see him this evening at Humpy's for Onetta's fish fry supper. I'll get him alone and talk to him."

"Ohhhhh-nettah…Love that name. She's a beauty too. Boy I tell you what, if I weren't married, I'd go after her myself."

Angela has heard this more than once before. Onetta was incredibly striking but she never re-married nor was she ever really with anyone. Angela, and pretty much everyone else, figured that the stink of murder was still on her strong, even after all these years. People tend to remember these things.

Waylon continued, "Well I want you to talk to Travis too."

"I thought you might and so I stopped at his place on the way here but he wasn't at the office nor was he at any of his bars or at his house. So I made a sweep looking for him and he just ain't turned up."

"Interesting. Well, track him down tonight or tomorrow. I want to know his reaction to the Belinda thing."

"It'll be colorful, I guarantee."

"Yep."

Meanwhile down the road a piece, Bruno and the lab boys were looking at the text history of Belinda and Griselda. This is what they read:

Belinda: Yo biatch, what up?

Griselda: Nada, nada. Just chillin'. You?

Belinda: At Humpy's talking to people.

Griselda: They're not giving in are they?

Belinda: You'd think I was after the Pope's hand in marriage.

Griselda: LMFAO!!

Griselda: Dude, you're so funny. But damn those people are tight.

Belinda: They're white, what do you expect?

Griselda: Watch it there. My mom's white.

Belinda: Yeah but she was smart enough to marry a Mexican.

Belinda: Oh, my Cuba Libre is ready. TTYL

Griselda: Coo' TTYL

"Wow, that was really a whole lot of nothing," Bruno said. "Other than being ever so slightly racist Miss Ramirez doesn't have a whole lot going on here…certainly nothing that will tell us who drugged her. Hello, Square One!"

"Well hold on there," lead lab boy Christen Whitman said. "That is only the text from when she got to Humpy's. Have you ever tried their Texas Tea? It's unbelievable."

"I have a murder investigation going on and you want to talk booze?" Bruno was not to be taken off track.

"You have no whimsy. OK, here is the text from later that night and then the following day. From later that night its pretty much gibberish from what I can tell and then the next day, it's a little clearer."

Belinda: fmkso fmkin seelp hostal e.r.

Griselda: What?! Dude, you sick? You in the E.R.

Belinda: yeshp…dono wht hap…'m ok

Griselda: Go to sleep. Call me tomorrow!

Belinda: k

"That's it for about the next ten hours," Whitman said. "Then later the next day we got these."

Belinda: I WAS ROOFIED!!!!!

Griselda: GET THE FUCK OUT?!

Belinda: Serious dude. That's what the doc said.

Griselda: Oh man. Do you need me to come down?

Belinda: No. Spoke to T this morn and he said he thinks he's ready to talk.

Griselda: Really?! Wow, what brought that change on? Did T roofy you?

Belinda: Don't know. He was there but not like around me, you know. He was keeping his distance.

Griselda: Yeah. I c

Belinda: I don't know who dropped it in my drink but he was there with some skank. I told you how he likes to have peeps around him he can control.

Griselda: Yeah. Coke whore I'm thinking.

Belinda: If she wasn't then I'm the Queen of England.

Griselda: LOL

Belinda: Scraggley ho….she was near me at one point but for like a second. She got a cocktail napkin.

Griselda: Dude, how long do you think it takes to roofie a drink? You drop it and go.

Belinda: You seem to know a lot about this. Do you have something to tell me? LOL

Griselda: Yeah I roofy drinks all the time! Got it down to an art.

Belinda: Whatev…Maybe it was her. Other than the bartender she was the only other one close enough to me or my drink to do that.

Belinda: Fuck, you can't even trust women any more. You'd think a chick would draw the line at fucking up another woman.

Griselda: Not when the line is going up your nose.

Belinda: True dat. I'll call you when I get home. We'll talk.

"Then, after that there's nothing other than random, 'Yo, what up?' conversations. Until, three days ago that is. Then we have this conversation," Whitman handed Bruno a hard copy of the conversation.

Griselda: Hey man, what's going on? You cut our convo short.

Belinda: T came over last night. W/O the coke whore.

Griselda: And you're just telling me? What happened?!

Belinda: Said he doesn't really believe me, same shit

Griselda: So he went to your pad just to tell you the same thing?

Belinda: Nope, made me an offer.

Griselda: Oh?

Belinda: Yeah. He wants to give me like 5 million $$$

Griselda: You going for it.

Belinda: I should. Dirty bastard. But no. I want my family…they want me or not, not my prob.

Griselda: ha….they're not worth it.

Belinda: I think it just pisses me off that they think they can do anything in the world and no one is going to call them on it. No one is that fucking entitled.

Griselda: when you've had that much money, power forever …well it doesn't matter I guess. The rich and entitled always win out in this world.

Belinda: Only because we LET them!

Griselda: Fight on young Skywalker.

Belinda: RFID!

Griselda: What?

Belinda: Raises Fist In Defiance….a la Black Panthers.

Griselda: Oh geez….only you. Call me later and I mean CALL me….I hate texting.

Belinda: fine….you get out of work in a couple, right?

Griselda: Yeah. Gotta go ttyl

Belinda: Hasta

Bruno left the lab boys to do whatever it is lab boys do and he thought to himself, "Well, I can go pay Belinda a call or I can go hunt down Travis McDurvel. I think I'll start with Belinda. At least I know where she is."

Belinda lives on the second floor of her apartment building. You can see her door from the parking lot. The place used to be an old motel and then it was refurbished into single person dwellings for Section 8 Housing. Bruno pulled up and noticed that Belinda's door was open. He didn't have a good feeling about this. He readied his gun and he went upstairs keeping an eye out for anything.

The smell was absolutely incredible. It was the unmistakable stench of rot; like an old body, though. If it were Belinda's body, it wouldn't stink near this bad by now. He was against the wall just outside the doorway. He wanted to vomit but wouldn't let himself. He turned quickly into the door's threshold, his gun drawn in front of him and there they were. A freshly dead Belinda Ramirez and a rotting corpse wrapped in a blanket … probably that of the missing woman.

He called the morgue, the lab boys and, against his better judgment, Angela Wisdom.

"Ms. Wisdom, Bruno," like she wouldn't know.

"Yeah, I got that. Caller I.D. is a wonderful new invention," Angela smiled.

"Look, let's not get stupid with each other right away. Belinda's dead and I think we got the body of the missing girl."

"Wow, you've been busy this afternoon."

"Just get yourself down to Belinda's place, please."

"Well doesn't sound like I can pass it up," She jumped in her Jeep and sped off down to Belinda's place. On her way she called Waylon and gave him the skinny on what was going on with Corpus Christi's newest murders.

"You need to find that Travis McDurvel!" Waylon ordered.

"Yes sir, I know. I know exactly where he'll be in about an hour or so. Bruno and I will bring him in over at the P.D."

"Alright, I'll call the mayor after y'all get Travis."

Angela arrived at the crime scene before the morgue got there and just as the lab boys were dislodging their gear. She waived and then the smell struck her.

"Oh Holy Lord in Heaven!" She made the sign of the cross. Though death was sometimes a part of her work…rarely…she never did handle it well. She always felt like she was in the shadow of death and directly in the Reaper's line of sight. It was an uneasy feeling. She grabbed a mask from one of the lab boys and proceeded up the stairs. There was Bruno standing with a handkerchief over his nose and mouth.

"Hey," he said through the handkerchief.

"Hey," she answered through her mask. They looked at Belinda's body. She looked like she was asleep. That is if a person could sleep with their head twisted completely backwards. The long lump next to her was a blanket that had been soaking in the secretions the human body gives off during decomposition. It had to be messy, this work.

Angela spoke, "Who ever dumped the body didn't get away clean. This is a stinky, messy job. He would have gotten the…ugh…the juices and stench all over him. It's not easy to get that smell out of your clothes. Even just standing here, I'll probably have to throw these away. And I can't think twisting Belinda's head like that would have been easy. Especially as combative as she was."

"Let's go downstairs. I need fresh air," Bruno said walking away from Angela. She was glad he caved first.

They got downstairs and found a good place to stand up wind of the crime scene. By this time the other residents were rousted from their abodes, those who were home, and were collected in the parking lot. Policemen were asking questions, who saw what, who heard what. No one saw nor heard anything. Not too uncommon a turn out.

Bruno caught Angela up on the conversations that Belinda had with her friend via text.

Angela took it all in and asked him, "Well, do you feel like going to a fish fry?"

"Are you insane?"

"No serious. Go home, vomit, shower and change and I'll meet you at Humpy McDurvel's. There will be some people there who you might like to talk to. One hour."

"Fine. I'm game."

XII

Angela was standing out in front of Humpy's smoking a cigarette. Her hand was shaking ever so slightly. Chase Landress drove up and parked his land yacht Lincoln. He observed Angela.

"Girl, you need a drink that bad you got the shakes?"

"No…I'm just kind of excited well more nervous than excited," She took another shaky drag from her smoke. "Ugh, wow, that is really obvious. Maybe I need a shot."

"You need something lady or you're gonna fall apart."

Ryan was at the bar. He saw Chase and opened a Coors Light for him. He was reaching for Angela's beer and she stopped him. "No Ry, just gimme a shot and a big ice tea." He looked at her quizzically. She answered his unspoken question, "You'll find out soon enough."

Just then Bruno walked in and stood next to Angela just as she got her order. "You can drink tequila after what we just went through? After what we just smelled?"

"Because of what we just smelled," Angela said.

"What the hell you and the little feller talkin' about?" Chase, ever so diplomatic.

"You'll find out soon enough."

"Fahk this 'soon enough' bullshit. I wanna know."

"Landress, back off for a sec OK? I can't tell you anything right now."

"Fahhhk."

Soon all the regulars were accounted for and the fish fry had commenced. Out back by the nearly finished patio, Onetta had the oil boiling and the fish battered. People were eating, talking and drinking but Bruno and Angela were kind of hanging back. Angela hated the waiting. She knew very well one of these people was possibly involved and she knew very well that they were one short. Would he show up? Would there have to be some kind of manhunt? And there he was.

"Travis," Angela said quietly to Bruno. He stirred.

Bruno rose from his seat and approached Travis at the fish fryer, "Mr. McDurvel?"

"Ahhh, Corpus Christi's finest, I believe."

"None finer. I need you to accompany me down to the station."

"On what charge?"

"There is no charge…yet."

"Well then there's no accompaniment…yet."

"Mr. McDurvel, I have some very important questions to ask you. It would be to your advantage that we go handle this out of the prying ears of the general public."

"You've got nothing and you're worth even less," Travis stared at Bruno through bleary eyes, his hands cradling a plate of sizzling fresh fried fish.

Bruno kept his cool. Angela lost hers, "Travis, quit being a dick and go to the station."

"Oh, you're here. How could I have not noticed you? You may fuck off too," He said as he made way to a seat and began to eat.

Bruno sat on one side of him and Angela sat on the other side. Angela spoke first, "You know what Bruno?"

"Hmm?"

"I think Travis did it."

"Yeah, how do you figure?"

"Well he was plenty pissed that Belinda Ramirez was even taking a run at being kin to him. He was plenty pissed whenever women turned him down. I'll bet you that missing girl was just a prick tease to him and when it came down to it, she wouldn't put out. Travis doesn't like that either I hear. He's always been plenty pissed, ever since he was a lad."

"Oh yeah, why's that?"

"Because he's not Hank."

Just then Travis sprang up and looped his arm around Angela's neck in a choke hold and dragged her to the ground. He flipped over on his back and wrapped his legs around Angela's mid-section. He was out to kill her. Bruno, Phillip and even Chase were prying at Travis' arms. Finally she threw an elbow into his ribs that hurt him enough to loosen his hold and the men were able to pull his arms back and she was able to get out of the leg hold herself.

"Travis McDurvel you're under arrest for assault and attempted murder!" Bruno cuffed and read him his Miranda rights; dragging the struggling McDurvel to the awaiting police cruiser out in front of the bar.

Angela sat up and was helped to her feet by her friends. Her neck was red and had the impressions of Travis' arm. Onetta said, "Get a photo of her injuries."

"It's OK Onetta," Angela said.

"No it's not. Take the pictures someone!"

No one argued. A couple of people popped out their smart phones and digital cameras for the best photos of Angela's injuries. What was actually to be done with them, no one would ever know.

The excitement died down a bit and Angela was handed a plate of fried fish.

"I really should be going over to the station."

Onetta sat down next to her, "And why??? Bruno is a big boy, he can handle this."

"Yeah but I have questions too."

"Oh for the love of all that is on God's green earth, girl, eat!"

"Y'all aren't gonna let me go, are y'all?"

"Nope. Waylon's already been notified and he's on his way. He knows you're not going to be let into the interview room, not until the police have their due. So jus' eat and relax."

"Youknowwha' girlie," Chase was already feeling his beer. "I got'ta give it to ya, you're alrigh'. You gave that boy what for, I tell you what!"

"Yeah, thanks Chase."

"Oh and never ever call me just Landress ever again," He winked at Angela and made his way back to the bar.

Greetings of "Howdy, Waylon!" wafted through the bar and out to the back patio. Angela stood up.

"Ah there's my girl! Heard you had a wrasslin' match."

"Yes sir."

"Did he hurt you much?" Waylon asked as he stretched to see Angela's neck. "It's just a little red I see, some bruising. Should look like a beauty tomorrow."

"Yes sir." She asked, "Would you like some fish? Miss Onetta caught it this morning."

"Yes ma'am I believe I would!"

After they ate, she and Waylon went inside and sat back in a booth away from the others. They needed to talk.

Waylon had three fat fingers of bourbon in front of him, Angela was still drinking tea and he began to sum up the total of the most recent Corpus Christi crime spree, "So, Travis is in and interview room at the P.D. There are now three dead women, one from almost a month ago, one from yesterday and one today. The one from today, Belinda Ramirez, is somehow related to the McDurvels, thus bringing unwanted attention to a powerful family. The one from yesterday, Minerva Saldivar, was a bitch. I'm not sure what killing her would have accomplished except that there's one less miserable person in the world. The one from a month ago, Amy Hernandez, was drunk and promiscuous. I'm not sure what killing her accomplished either, except to just release some rage. Travis was here for Belinda's roofie incident and more than likely here for Amy Hernandez' disappearance and subsequent death. He was not here for Minerva Saldivar's murder."

"Well that we know of, he could've been here and not made him self known," Angela said.

"Have you ever known Travis to not make him self known?"

"You have a point. But I hate thinking that Travis is not only a murderer but that he has someone working with him. I really hate to think that that accomplice may be a regular at this bar or my favorite bartender."

Waylon sipped his bourbon, "Well you know sweet lady we can't have things the way we want all the time. Sometimes never. We have to follow the evidence, no matter how ugly or inconvenient we may find the out come."

She looked down at her tea. Someone was going down with Travis and she knew, or at least she had a suspicion who it was. "I know," she acquiesced.

"Run down a list of who was here, for me, please," Waylon asked.

"Well there's me, Phillip, Chase, Matt, James, Geraldine, Butcher and Chicken. Then Ryan the bartender and Gaylyn came in after the whole thing with Minerva's car went down."

"Butcher and Chicken?"

"They're construction guys, salt of the earth. There's actually three of them that hang together but Felix wasn't here that day. Butcher commented about Felix acting a little standoffish lately and a little jittery."

"Hmmm, interesting."

"As a matter of fact Felix borrowed some money from Travis, I hear."

"A substantial amount?"

"I heard it was only about $140."

"Would Travis, you think, hold something like that over someone's head? Surely he has enough money that would make that sum look like pocket change to him."

"He'll throw away a lot of money on a good time, but if you owe him, you OWE him. He doesn't like to be owed but he does like to own. If he can buy someone's loyalty for $140, he will."

Waylon lowered his voice, "So it was Travis and Felix. Now we need to prove it. We need to go get Felix."

"I've got my side arm in the Jeep, you got yours?"

"Yep, in the Caddy."

"My Jeep? Think I should call Bruno?"

"Yep and yep. But call him when we're almost to this Felix' house." Waylon didn't want Bruno ruining their fun.

XIII

Felix Harper is a stooped shouldered jovial yet dim witted individual. Well he was jovial up to a month and a half ago, then he just started shutting down. He used to be pretty positive about life in general but then a darkness began to gather around him. He lived in an apartment complex owned by Travis McDurvel. It was a complex located in downtown just above one of Corpus Christi's seediest bars, Chester's.

When they were less than a mile away from Felix' place, Angela called Bruno on his cell phone.

"Voice mail," She said to Waylon who was checking his gun. "Bruno, Angela, Waylon and I are on our way to get Felix Harper, we're betting he's Travis' accomplice. Meet us at 2514 Chaparral street apartment 12A."

"He's probably busy in the interrogation room with Travis," Waylon offered.

"I don't doubt. Maybe I should call Washington and Roberts."

Waylon agreed, "Do it, I don't want this going south on us and not have some police presence."

"Washington? You on duty? Well I don't have a whole lot of time to explain but I need you and Roberts to meet me at 2514 Chaparral street apartment 12A," she paused as Washington relayed the information to Roberts.

"At least tell me who and why, real quick," Washington asked.

"OK, Felix Harper and for the murder of Minerva Saldivar."

"On our way."

Angela and Waylon pulled up onto the corner curb. Hurried out of the Jeep and soon Washington and Roberts were right behind them. Waylon was hoping they would've taken a bit longer. He wanted some time with Felix before they came and lawed everything up. Too late.

A Jeep on the curb, a police cruiser (no lights, no sirens) blocking in parked cars…people began to gather and gawk. Washington and Roberts had guns drawn. Angela and Waylon brandished their weapons. The foursome made their way up to Felix' place.

Roberts spoke, "I'm not too comfortable with y'all packing. Matter of fact holster your weapons."

"We're permitted and perfectly capable," Waylon stated.

"As an officer of the law, I'm ordering you to holster your weapons."

There was nothing more they could do but put their guns away.

They hit the 12th floor. They approached 12A cautiously. Roberts was going to knock and Angela held her hand out and stepped to the front blocking Roberts.

She knocked, "Felix? Felix, it's Angela from Humpy's. Can I come in?"

The door opened slowly. There was a barrel of a gun inched its way through the crack of the door.

Angela's eyes grew large, she was in shock, the door opened just enough to reveal Matt Herrman on the other end of that gun.

"Matt!"

"Yes Angela, Matt."

"What the fuck? I don't get this."

Waylon, Washington and Roberts were lost. Angela was staring down the barrel of a gun held by one of her best friends and there was little they could do for her. Roberts and Washington were drawn and trained on Matt. Waylon had his hand on his gun which was half out of the holster. But that hand cannon Matt had would obliterate Angela's skull. They all just stood there for what seemed like an eternity.

Washington spoke, "Matt? Can I call you Matt?"

"I'm Mr. Herrmann to you, fucker."

"Alright Mr. Herrmann. How can we resolve this? I don't want to see Angela hurt and I'd like to hear what you have to say."

"Angela and the little man come in, alone."

"I'm sorry Mr. Herrmann but I cannot endanger the lives of these civilians."

"She's a private investigator and he's a lawyer. I'm the only civilian here."

"Point taken."

Angela spoke, "It's alright Tanger, I'll go in."

"Me too," said Waylon. "I'm his council."

Angela made the barest move to look at Waylon. Waylon said, "This man needs representation and I'm here to help him."

Roberts rolled his eyes and said in a low voice, "Lawyers…"

Angela said, "Matt, We're coming in. We're going to start moving now."

"Angela, I advise against that," Officer Tanger Washington said.

"Tanger, we're going in. This will be a less messy way to deal with this."

Angela and Waylon started moving into the apartment with Matt. Matt had a steady bead on Angela's head. He knew Waylon wouldn't do anything to harm his best investigator.

"Matty, seriously, what's going on here?"

Matt smiled, "Wow Ang, you almost sound like you care. You're a wonderful actress."

"I do care. You and I have been drinking buddies a better part of two years. We've had bar-be-ques together. We've celebrated each other's birthdays. We've done Christmas gift exchanges."

"Brava, madame!"

"Look this is the way you wanna go at it? Pity party style, fine. Let's do this, bitch!"

Matt flushed red with rage and he used his free hand as a vice grip on Angela's neck. Matt is a big guy, about 6'2" and stout. "The only bitch that's going to be done here is you!"

"MATT!" Waylon shouted, gun drawn. "Turn loose of her, now!"

Matt turned to Waylon and dropped Angela. He stepped back but kept his weapon drawn on them both. Waylon helped Angela up. Strangled twice in the same night; a new, yet not so enviable, record for Angela.

Angela spoke with a hoarse whisper, "Where's Felix?"

"Check the closet."

Waylon stepped to the closet Matt indicated with the barrel of the gun. Sure enough, a crumpled body, head twisted backwards much like Belinda Ramirez'.

"Matt, please explain all this to me."

He stood there with a psychotic grin on his face and said, "It's all in my head." And with that he whipped the gun around to rest right between his own eyes and he pulled the trigger before anyone could say a thing or make a move to stop him.

They were covered in the pieces that made Matt Herrmann's head. All that was left was a bloody stump that was once a neck. Washington and Roberts busted in, followed closely by Bruno and a fleet of badge- wearing, gun-toting police officers. One officer slipped and fell on a piece of bloody skull. It was really not the less messy way to go. It was nightmarish.

XIIII

In the wee hours of dawn, Waylon, Angela and Bruno sat in an interrogation room with Travis McDurvel. They were all tired. Their clothes were ruined. They needed to get home, get showered and go to bed but what they needed more than anything else were answers and the only person living who knew anything, it seemed, was Travis. He sat like a big fat happy cat, bits of bird in his fangs.

"Travis, Felix and Matt are dead. We've got the lab working triple over time getting all the analysis of every scrap of evidence done. We'll know everything here in a while. But, I'm going to give you a chance to get yourself away from the needle on this," Bruno was very sincere but at his last end. He knew there was some evidence but he didn't know what it would say conclusively. He knew, right now, that the only way to get Travis on this was for Travis to confess his part in all this.

Travis smiled. He was fairly sober and so things were looking too much like reality. There was no one looking at him with "awe" or serving him. No women awaiting his attention. No one was complimenting him or his "brilliance" or begging for just a scrap of his money. He was in jail. There were many dead bodies attributed to him, things were not looking rosy any more.

"OK, it's like this here. Belinda was pissing me off. If you've met her then you know what I mean. Yeah I had her roofied. What I was going to do with her afterwards? I don't know. She just needed to be taught a lesson. She just needed to be shut up and learn her place in this world."

Angela wanted to smack him. But she kept her poker face.

"Then that little bitch prick tease," he looked at Angela. "Yeah you called that one right. She had the nerve to give me a little lap dance out back and when I went for it she pulled away. So I bought her one more shot and that did it. I had fun with her for a while. Well me and ol' Matty. He's a big boy, that one. I think he did some damage. Me, I got the curse of the Irish on me."

Waylon and Bruno stirred uneasily.

"I see I'm not the only one," Travis smiled and then continued. "Me and Matty had some fun but fun time was over. The girl was getting…soiled and then she went and pissed on Matty and he went off. Chocked the shit out of her. Literally. We were done."

Waylon asked, "And Felix? Where did he fit into all of this?"

"He owed me money and so I had him do some errands for us."

"Like?" Bruno asked.

"Wrapping up the prick tease and stashing her away in the freezer at my place," he said with a sense of satisfaction. "It's a big ol' freezer. You can fit a couple of deer in there."

Angela's turn, "So Minerva?"

"Oh that was all Matt. He's nuts you know. Hid it well but abso-freakingly nuts. That ol' biddy pissed him off in all the right ways…or wrong ways as it turned out. He said it didn't take much, he just stooped slightly and popped her with his elbow and she crumbled like a deck of cards. I drove up just when it happened. Damn fool doing that out in broad daylight.

"Then I pulled up and showed him the ladder up the side and into the roof of the building. If you go through the whole building all the way to the end and just to the right of all the a.c. stuff there's a trap door right above the fifth stall in the women's room. He dumped her in there and was back at the table before y'all noticed.

"I took off back to Chester's. I wanted to bust out laughing and I couldn't share the joke with y'all so I went over to Chester's. They don't care over there who's laughing at what, so long'as ya buy 'em a drink. And boy, did I. After I saw the 'breaking news', I decided to make my presence known at Humpy's. And Felix, well he was just collateral damage. Besides, his life was going to shit anyway so I think Matt him a favor."

Angela, Waylon and Bruno were all quiet. Taking in all that murderous no good man had to say was more than they bargained for but there it was. Not a whole lot could be done about it. Five people were dead and the puppet master sat in front of them smiling like he just did a cartwheel.

"Aw, don't be so sad. It all makes sense and yet no sense at all. It's the Alice in Wonderland of Murders," he said still smiling.

Waylon and Angela walked out of the interrogation room first. Bruno stayed behind and an officer came in to cuff and escort Travis to a holding cell until they could transport him. Travis was still smiling.

Bruno came out of the room and looked at Angela and Waylon. "So what was really accomplished by all these killings?"

"The only positive thing I see coming out of this is there is one less psycho in the world and there is one less murderer out in society," Waylon said. "Other than that, four innocent people lost their lives."

They stood in an unsteady silence a bit longer.

Then Angela needed to get gone, "See ya, Bruno," Angela turned to go, Waylon followed. Bruno stayed behind to finish his reports. Soon Corpus Christi would begin waking up and starting their Wednesday. The citizens would go to school, work or do nothing at all and some would find out later in the day what all happened. Some would care, some wouldn't.

Angela drove to Humpy's to drop Waylon at his car. They got there just as the 7 a.m. shift was opening the bar. He sat in her Jeep.

"Waylon? You going?"

"I think I'm getting too old for this. Crime used to make sense. Well, I mean it was still crime and it was still wrong to do but now a days…just whatever sets whomever off and then blammo! Or even if nothing really happens," Waylon was tired. "It's just so random."

"That it is. I think it's like everything else, a product of our society. So much is so disposable," Angela sighed. "I think it's time to call it a night. OK?"

"Let's both retire and hold down barstools? What do ya say, doll?"

Angela laughed, "Well, why don't we see where we stand tomorrow and if nothing else, we'll hold down bar stools."

Waylon smiled, "Yeah."

After Waylon got in his Escalade and drove off, Angela began to cry. She held it as long as she could but now the flood gates had burst and she just let go. One of her best friends from the bar just blew apart his own head in front of her. Matter of fact she still had his blood on her clothes, in her hair and stuck to her skin. She couldn't get that last second of Matt's life out of her head.

Someone knocked at Angela's window, it was Leesann. "Hey Ang, you OK? Did you have a long night? Ew, what's that on your clothes, looks like spaghetti sauce."

Angela couldn't help it, she half smiled and wiped her face, "Hey Leesann, I'm OK. Just had a little work to do last night. I'm just tired is all."

"OK, well, if you want I'm here to talk about it. It's good to get these things out of your system, you know."

"I'll be OK," Angela smiled and Leesann smiled back at her, shrugged her shoulders and made her way into Humpy's to start slinging beers. It was another day.