SECURE THE PREMISES
Thursday night trivia was a fixture in his week.
It was something Dayton always looked forward to but that evening his mood was above par.
The wrench had been dealt with, and though Kenna was undeniably distraught about the Greene girl’s disappearance, she was still speaking to him.
Halloween was fast approaching and some people appeared to be celebrating early, donned in costumes. No doubt attending parties and the like.
Donovan’sSeason of the Witchblared through the speakers between questions. Dayton looked at the gummy eyeball floating in his vodka and smiled to himself.
Tonight was a good night. He was happy, free, relaxed. Things he hadn’t felt since God knew when.
Mind wandering, he considered bringing some of the Halloween cheer to Kenna. He wanted to text her and ask her to spend the night. They’d rent a horror film and he would pop candy corn into her sweet mouth. He would hold her in his arms, reeling in ecstasy whenever she buried her face in his chest to escape whatever chilling image was on the screen.
But Kenna had class tomorrow and he had to deal with his patients. Joyous as he was, he knew he could never call her up and propose something so childish.
Their relationship was more complicated than that.
Nathan returned to his barstool, theatrically adjusting his glasses. “‘Twas the Raven, my man.”
“I’m glad one of us knows Poe.”
He checked his text messages and Will clucked his tongue in passing as he turned in his team’s answer.
“No phones, professor.”
“You come talk to me in about 10 years when you have a pregnant wife to deal with, Will Morris.”
“That kid is irritating.” Dayton welcomed the gummy eyeball into his mouth, cheeks puckering at the sour melon flavor. “It’s no wonder his parents got a divorce.”
“You know what, Dayton? Every day I thank our lord and savior that you’re not a child psychiatrist.” He held up a finger to Sasha, signaling for another beer.
They both burst into laughter, which was such a rare event that Nathan seemed genuinely startled but their hysterics soon fizzled out. The Halloween music looped. Michael, the host, had stepped away to use the bathroom and songs that were tolerable sandwiched between trivia questions became unbearable. Dayton was primed for an aneurysm when the opening notes of ‘Monster Mash’ played.
Mercifully, Michael soon returned, grabbing the mic with the nonchalance of someone who hadn’t interrupted a public game night with a 10-minute restroom break.
“Alright, folks, we’re going to switch gears a little bit with a few TV and movie questions. I want you to tell me who played Jason Vor—”
The rear entry door slammed against the wall and a hush fell over the room. A line cook stood in the open doorway. He had plugs the size of saucers and his eyes were stretched just as wide.
“Sasha, call the B.S.P.D. and tell ‘em to come over here pronto. There’s a chick in the dumpster and she ain’t drunk if you know what I mean.”
Sasha’s frantic movements were rendered comical with faux spiderwebs woven into her hair as she battled the clunky landline, delivering the news in a shaking voice as her hand cupped the receiver. Dayton drained the rest of his drink before the cops stormed the place.
At first, it was only a pair of officers. Then a second car came, and a third. They were in and out of the rear door, mumbling into the radios perched on their shoulders and to each other.
“Secure the premises.”
“Nobody leaves this bar until we get statements from everyone. So get comfortable.”
The two original officers who had arrived on the scene split the duty of collecting statements. Others rolled out yellow tape, placed placards on the ground out back, and flashed pictures. Some of the patrons’ faces had grown pale and clammy. The Halloween theme had gotten too real.
Soon, the coroner turned up.
A few girls gasped as they caught the briefest glimpse of a ghastly, pale blue body being delicately exhumed from the dumpster. Someone released a blood-curdling scream. Another fell to the floor.
“Oh, hell no.” Sasha knelt behind the bar and the crass sound of her vomiting made others recoil.