“Give me one, pig,” I say, taking it, lighting it, and then taking a deep drag. My lungs feel like they’re going to ignite and it takes everything I’ve got not to cough as I blow it out my nose. “Happy now?”
The two cops look at each other and smirk. “Lots of actors in this town. It’s not the best ones that win the Academy Awards though,” Dawson quips.
“What do you want and why do you keep harassing me? If you’ve got something to say why don’t you quit acting like a bunch of little girls and just come out and say it?”
I take another puff and go through the same mind-numbing sequence, holding back one helluva cough.
“Two nights ago you had the night off. Last night you missed work, called in sick actually, but we both know that’s not true.”
“You already said that.” I’m proud of how calm I am, unflinching and even standoffish. A real serial killer would be asking them what they know, if they have any suspects, leads…stuff like that. I’ve watched enoughMindhunterand Netflix Documentaries to know to avoid the obvious red flags.
“You smoke the other night when you were at that club?”
“No.”
“Why did you step out the back then?” they ask predictably.
“Because it’s easier to exit that way.”
“But you came back in.”
“Because I saw the girl you saw me with last night. She really caught my eye, so much so that I had to introduce myself, which led to last night.”
“Quite the Cassanova,” Fields says. “A real charmer.”
“And?” I shrug my shoulders and take another drag.
“Where do you live, Sparks,” Dawson chimes in.
“If you’re calling me by my last name then we both know where I hang my hat, don’t we?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Beverly Hills,” I retort, not needing to state the obvious because we all know where I live is a shit hole. “Just down the street from you. We’re practically neighbors,” I add, reminding them that none of the three of us standing here is a big winner in the game of life when you’re in a city of centi-millionaire movie stars, athletes, media moguls, and a whole slew of other lucrative industries.
“What did you do before you worked here?”
“You already know.”
“Humor me.”
“Ex-Air Force. Honorable discharge. Multiple medals.”
“And a bit of a snitch, weren’t you?”
I want to punch this fuck right in the mouth. I take a step toward him and his hand goes straight to his service weapon, his eyebrows raising in challenge.
“When you swear to a code of conduct, like all three of us have at least one point in our lives, you live by that code…whether it’s stateside or Kadena Air Base in Japan, which is clearly what you’re referring to. Those airmen raped that local Japanese girl. Hell, they were fucking bragging about it. I remember how my commanding officer said I’d created a P.R. shitstorm, but to tell you the truth I don’t give a fuck. I care about doing what’s right, and believe me, I sleep well at night knowing the family of that girl was able to find out who committed that heinous act and at least got some sort of vengeance on the men who forced themselves on her. As far as I’m concerned they should be locked up for life or fucking disposed of.” Keeping my eyes on Dawson I turn my head and spit on the ground and then eye Fields.
“Quite the team player,” Dawson says.
My eyes narrow and my nostrils flare as I immediately make it my mission to fuck this guy’s life up royally. I can. And I will.
“Sorry you guys are wasting taxpayer dollars on a wild goose chase for a piece of shit that died, trying to pin it on a guy who just saved about four hundred and sixteen lives on that 747, plus the crew. I need to go inside, fill out some forms and get my fucking Boy Scout medal and get back to work. I assume you two have to do the same.”
I flick my cigarette, giving them a free pass to cuff me for a littering offense if they want and turn to go, taking the first step before Fields grabs me by the forearm.
I freeze, look up at him and then shake my arm violently, breaking his grip. “The fuck you want?”