Gumshoe Gorilla (15 page)

"OK," he said, sounding a bit more like himself.

"I'm on my way."

"Well, I guess I'll be here."

I put the phone back in my pocket and went into the bedroom to throw on a shirt and some shoes. Laughing Bear followed me, still holding the moccasins.

"Is everything...?"

"No, it's not."

"Can I...?"

"Yes, by getting out of here and taking all this junk with you," I said, gesturing to the pile of boxes that was overrunning my bedroom.

"Well, maybe I could..."

"No. I mean it," I said, finishing with the laces. "Take all this crap down to Goodwill or the dumpster or wherever you want to leave it, lock the door behind you, and don't come back."

I stood up and walked to the door. I almost made it outside before the guilt set in. I turned back to Laughing Bear. He looked like he was gonna cry.

"OK. That was harsh," I admitted. "The truth is that I'm sorry. I'm sorry your wife or boyfriend or whatever you want to call him is dead. And I know that this whole thing is just your creepy way of trying to hang on to him. But I don't want all this stuff, and I don't want you hanging around here all the time. You're gonna have to find somebody else to wear her old clothes."

I turned away and made it out of the building and into my car before any more pangs of guilt could slow me down. I started the drive south, putting in a call to
Picket, Bowles & Chang
on the way. I do some work for them from time to time. They're not the classiest law firm in Atlanta, but they do keep an associate on night duty to handle DUIs and such. A woman named Maria took the call. I gave her Daniel's name and my account number with the firm.

"You'll have to tell him I sent you," I explained. "Or he won't take your call."

"I'm on it."

I reached the Detention Center and pulled into the parking lot. I went into the lobby, grabbed a coke from the gift shop, and sat down in the waiting area. There wasn't much I could do until I heard back from the lawyer. I killed time for about thirty minutes until she finally called to say that she'd conferenced with a night judge and worked out bail. $200K.

Well, it could have been worse. I made arrangements with one of the bondsmen across the street, and then waited while Daniel was processed out. Forty-five minutes later a guard led him through the big double doors out of the detention area. I almost laughed. Apparently Daniel hadn't been wearing a shirt when he was arrested. I guess I should be thankful that he'd at least been wearing pants. He was clutching the big manila envelope with his personal items in it. He looked around for a few seconds, trying to pick me out of the crowd of faces there to retrieve friends and loved ones, and then his face lit up and he came running over. I nodded in the direction of the exit, and he followed me out.

We walked across the parking lot without saying anything, Daniel shivering in the cold. I figured he'd tell me what had happened when he was ready. I popped the trunk and handed him a jacket. I always keep three or four back here, in case I need to change my look while I'm doing surveillance. As Daniel put it on, I noticed a set of three parallel scratches on his shoulder.

"What happened there?" I asked.

He glanced down at the cuts.

"Oh, that? Nothing to worry about." He pulled on the jacket and zipped it up.

I unlocked the car and we climbed in. I pulled out of the parking lot, and started driving North. Daniel still hadn't offered any explanation. He sat looking out the window without facing me.

"Interesting night?" I finally prompted.

He turned to me, and I caught a worried look before he put on the puppy dog smile.

"Did you know that prison is nothing like they show it in porn movies?" he said.

"Yeah, I've heard that. You're lucky you were only in holding."

Daniel shrugged and turned back to the window, watching the world go by. It occurred to me that it might have been smarter to leave him in prison over night, just to teach him a lesson. But then, I didn't even know what lesson he needed to be learning.

I passed the turnoff for Daniel's apartment and continued North.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm hungry," I lied. "Let's get some breakfast."

A few minutes later we were pulling in under the big neon woodpecker sign of Daniel's favorite restaurant. There'd been a bit of trouble when it opened a few years back. The restaurant across the street, which features an owl for its logo, had filed a lawsuit claiming infringement of trademark. But the courts had ruled that the idea of having a bird in your logo and tight-shirted wait staff was not unique. I was hoping that a little food and some nice scenery might put Daniel in a more talkative mood.

A cheery server in a tank top greeted us at the door.

"Welcome to Peckers. How many in your party tonight?"

I held up two fingers, and he led us to a well lit table in the center of the room. --I've noticed that I get better seating when I'm with Daniel. He's decorative.-- A few minutes later a waiter, with arms that looked like they'd been sculpted out of stone, came by and took our order. I got a fruit salad and some coffee. Daniel got the blintzes and a milk shake.

After that we sat quietly for a while, watching the after bar crowd filter in. Mostly they turned up in couples. Guys who'd hooked up on the dance floor, and were now negotiating the final details of an evening's tryst over breakfast. I've always found it fascinating to see who's about to end up with who. A big blond body builder, with gold glitter on his arms and chest, chatting up a little dark haired guy with intense eyes. A black drag queen doing a stand up comedy routine for some straight laced white guy in a button-down shirt. An old Hispanic man with a bad toupee and an outfit that belonged on someone thirty years younger eating with some scrawny kid who looked like he was in the habit of getting other people to pay for his meals. And at the table next to ours, a really cute pair, who looked like they could have been twins. I wonder if their favorite hobby was staring into the mirror.

There was also a big table at the back with seven guys. The A-list party crowd, all decked out in pirate shirts and velvet leggings. They were loud and laughing, high on Bliss and pounding music and the promise of sex. In spite of myself, I felt a pang of envy, wishing I could be one of them. To lose myself in those things as easily as they seemed to. I'd tried it when I was young, but I never really felt like I belonged. I watched them laughing, and wondered if they were really as happy as they seemed to be, or if they were all just pretending in order to fit in.

Our food came, and Daniel's spirits started to pick up. I drew him into a conversation about which waiters he thought were cute, and then pointed out another group coming into the restaurant. Four guys in flight suits with crew cuts and dog tags, but I don't think they were military. Not unless army boys have started wearing bleached blond sideburns, goatees, and eyebrows. Their skin was impossibly tanned, and their hair was

"Tell me these guys aren't the next fashion wave," I pleaded.

Daniel looked over his shoulder at them.

"Oh. They must be up from Miami. It's the clone look down there."

"Well, let's hope it doesn't catch on here."

They walked past our table, looking us over with the perpetual half-sneer by which the ultra-hip announce their disdain for the rest of the world.

"Guess we didn't pass muster with the fashion police," I noted.

"Like I care," Daniel responded.

"Who decides this stuff, anyway?" I asked. "I mean, who decides that leather jackets are out, but skin cancer and peroxide are in?"

"SMOF," Daniel said between bites of blintz.

"Who?"

"SMOF.
The Secret Masters Of Fashion.
They get together every summer on Fire Island and decide what styles they're going to inflict on the rest of the world. They flew me up to entertain at one of their parties a couple years back."

He said it with a half smile, and I couldn't decide if he was making it up or not. It was just weird enough to be true.

He finished the blintzes.

"By the way Drew, thanks. I'll pay you back for the lawyer."

"I know."

I waited for him to go on with an explanation of the night's events, but he never did.

"There's a bondsmen's fee, too."

"How much?" he asked.

"Five percent."

"Jesus."

"Can you cover it?"

He rolled his eyes, then grabbed the milkshake and killed it off.

"I've got some money I put away for a rainy day. Can I pay you back on Friday?"

"Sure."

There was a long pause.

"When's your court date?" I asked.

"Next month. The fifteenth."

Again with the long silence. He was gonna make this like pulling teeth.

"You realize that I can't help you if I don't know what's going on."

He smiled his disarming smile.

"Don't worry about me. I can handle this."

Well that pretty much put an end to any further inquiry. Daniel got the waiter's attention and, after some pro-forma flirting, paid our bill. We got my car and started the drive back to his apartment.

"Actually, can you drop me off at Vince's place?" Daniel asked. "It's on 12th, between Piedmont and Juniper."

"Sure. Your boyfriend's probably worried sick about you."

"I'll say. He must think that I'm cozying up to a cellmate named Bubba by now."

"If you were lucky. I once heard of a guy who..."

I was about to launch into an old joke about the Georgia prison system, but something about Daniel's last statement bothered me. It took me a few seconds to work out what it was. He'd used his first call to reach me. They give you two calls, but...

"Daniel, did you call Vince from the detention center?"

"No. You told me not to."

Right. I didn't want you saying anything that might incriminate you on the phone. So how would Vince know you were in prison? Unless...

Unless he was there when Daniel were arrested.

"Is something wrong?" Daniel asked.

"No," I said. "I'm just glad you're OK."

I turned onto twelfth street, and Daniel pointed out the building. I waited while he ran up and pounded on the door. The lights came on, and Vince answered the door wearing a towel. He looked like he'd been asleep. I watched them hug and go inside.

The clock on my dashboard read 4:16 am. I had to be awake again in less than two hours. Hardly worth going to bed. I got out my palm top, and set to work finding out everything there was to know about Daniel's new beau.