Sorry for the long absence. Things got out of hand last week, and Arkady and I have been spending most of that time prepping for, and executing, a new op. Things are still a bit fucked, but at least we're back in control.
As for what went down...I went to Bab’s place late last week. Walked up to her condo on the fourth floor, made my way to her front door, and rang the doorbell. No response. Curious, I decided to give her a call and see if maybe she had gone out for a moment. I heard her cell phone ring inside the condo, but no one picked up. I knocked on the door, and still no response. I started to worry. So I jiggled the door knob a bit. It was loose. I felt a bit weird about doing this as I am big on respecting privacy, but given all the fucked up shit that's been going on in my life I decided I'd rather be safe than sorry.
The door swung in slowly and I stepped into her place. I tried to keep from making too much noise in case someone was still inside. In retrospect the knocking and doorbell ringing would have been a dead giveaway anyways, but I was really on edge. The last thing I wanted to believe was that Babs was in trouble, especially if it was the Slender One. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a matter of cleaning my conscience. But dealing with the Slender One, is like playing with fire. Anything could happen to her with him in the picture. I was standing in the short hallway that led into the living room. The kitchen was behind the living room. Everything was empty and the lights were off. I stood there in the doorway for a good 5 minutes making sure I couldn’t hear anything. Unsure of what to do, I rang Bab’s cell again. Her phone lit up on the dinner table. I walked over and examined it. It was a gaudy looking cheap piece of shit. Pink case with the Unicursal Hexagram carved into it. It was sitting next to a mixed bag of E and oxycotton. Bad news. Probably wasn’t cops if they left this grab bag of evidence.
I picked up her cell to check her phone logs, but stopped. I had to calmly remind myself this didn’t mean something bad had happened to her. Maybe she just left and forgot her cell. I put her phone down and stepped outside. The next best option was to ask around I figured, so I stepped to her immediate neighbor's door and knocked on it. An older woman answered. Fuck, she looked hideous. Obviously at least 50, dyed blonde hair…she’d clearly gone through a couple different plastic surgery enhancements. She wore about as much makeup as I had on at the time, which isn’t flattering if you’re trying to go with a natural look. She looked like a Barbie doll that had been run through a dishwasher, and she didn’t look to pleased to see me either.
“Hey…your neighbor [Babs], did she…leave recently?”
She stared at me for a moment.
“Hell if I know. I mind my own god-damn business,” she said.
Christ. I hate dealing with assholes.
“Oh. Well, her door was unlocked and I’m just worried she might have gotten hurt or something,” I said, fighting down the punch-this-bitch-in-the-face reflex that was making its way down to my fist.
“Serves that little whore right. Don’t think I don’t know what she’s up to and who she’s shacking up with in there. If her little drug dealing thug buddies finally got their hands on her it’s her own damn fault.”
She gave me a look over again.
“Don’t you have an Anne Rice convention to get to?” she asked, before slamming the door in my face.
Fucking bitch. The mental image of me beating her in the face with my signed copy of “The Vampire Armand” flashed through my head and made me smile, but I brushed it aside. There are other things more deserving of my attention.
I walked back to Bab’s condo and picked up her cell. As much as I respect privacy whenever possible there was too much at risk to ignore here. I checked through her call records. Most of the numbers were on her phone book, but several from today weren’t. I didn’t realize she was so popular. I hit redial and sat down. The phone picked up.
“Congratulaciónes señor o señora! Has ganado un gran premio muy especial de nuestro compañia por ser el…”
Fuck that noise.
I was on my way to dialing another number when I grabbed her bag of E, deciding I needed to find a suitable place to hide it. That was when I saw it. A police badge. I picked it up and carefully examined it, not stopping to think that I had just put my finger prints on police property. But I quickly realized it didn't matter. It was from the San Marcos police department. That was where Arkady was from before he fled to Austin. Which meant this had to be the work of Javert.
I put Babs' cellphone and pills into my jacket and bolted out the door. I got back at around midnight, but Arkady was gone. I left him an email and decided that I was going to have to hook him up with a prepaid cellphone. Shit like this requires an open line of communication. In fact, not getting him one earlier was downright fucking stupid of me. When he got home I told him what happened. We came up with an interim plan to try and find her the next day.
Fortunately it was all for not. When we woke up and started heading off, we found a note from everyone's favorite douchepig Javert on our front door, complete with a location and a time. Arrogant fuck.
Shit, I'll have to post the rest later. Cops showed up. Dunno if it's for us or not. We might be in trouble.
Love Under Will