Page 15 of A New Days Don

My mouth dries at the word. I knew we would eventually be headed to visit the clubs where these women were picked up, but this is soon. I haven’t– I can’t– I look back over at the women who haven’t been given a just investigation. My eyes slide back to Vicek, who raises a challenging brow.

No. I can. I will.

Vicek crosses his arms, his bright hazel eyes narrowing on me, daring me to back out. This isn’t the first time he has tried to push me to do something that he thought I wouldn’t do. My case never made it out into the news. Vicek made sure of it. At the time, I was grateful and felt like I owed him for the privacy, but now, it feels as though he knows too much. As if he is waiting for me to break while the rest of the department goes on blissfully unaware.

I straighten my back, trying to close as much of the height gap between Vicek and I. I steel myself, schooling my features and nodding, “When?”

“Now.” Vicek grits out, spinning on his heel, “Come.”

Woof.

Richard Vicek. Nearing thirty-seven years old, he stands at six feet tall with fading brown hair and a matching beard. He keeps to himself mostly, though he has been on the force for over fifteen years as the lead detective on major cases. The man is a misogynist through and through, but maybe I am a little masochistic because I like his constant complaints and proving his idiotic ideas of me wrong.

I watch him walk out of the meeting room, the glass walls and doors doing nothing to hide my unimpressed face. I roll my eyes at him, but follow him out, because unfortunately for now, I am lower on the totem pole, so I get to follow his command.

A few recruits type furiously on computers in the bullpen as we walk around the upper hallway toward the exit. Their fear wafts off of them in a strong plume. Each and every one of them is nervous about completing their tasks, their superiors requesting information and wanting it done yesterday.

“Take your own cruiser. I have a few other meetings to go to after.” Vicek nods towards one of the generic LVPD cruisers as he heads for his custom black Mercedes. Government budget well spent.

Regardless of whether Vicek has meetings or not after this, I know why he wants me in my own cruiser, and it is not because he wants the convenience of it. He would rather I drive separately so we show up at the club with intimidation for the poor owner, who more than likely has nothing to do with any of these murders.

Nevertheless, I slip the key I still have in my pocket out and head for the cruiser I was driving this morning.

The opulent lights and signs flooding the Vegas strip are on and beaming down on the tourists passing by, luring them in with ritz and glam. Despite it only being one in the afternoon, the illuminated signs somehow make it feel even brighter out, save for the dark corners and alleyways out of reach of the beaming lights. A few passersby eye me as if I am about to chase them down the street and arrest them. They probably have good reason to feel that way, given most of them are either using or selling, but I am not here for the small recreational drug addict. I am here to solve a murder, and right now I couldn't care less about what they choose to shoot up in their body so long as they don’t harm others.

I need to stay focused. These women’s lives depend solely on me at this point.

I wipe the sweat from my brow, the afternoon sun no less forgiving than it was earlier in the day. The club has black, almost obsidian, walls with a heavy, dark door, and a bright sign above with the silhouette of a naked woman lying gracefully with the words ‘Gli Amanti Litigano.’

“Are you just going to stand there?” Vicek snarls as he walks past me and opens the door, “We don’t have time to waste, Lewis.”

As much as I want to bite back a response to Vicek. He isn’t wrong. Every hour that goes by that this man is on the loose is another hour he could be out hurting others.

I look past Vicek’s clubmaster glasses and into the dark interior of the club, hoping to catch a glimpse of what I am walking into before going in, but there is nothing. By the looks of things, this club was designed for privacy, with its obsidian walls continuing in and turning so nobody can see past the main hall.

“I was waiting for you,” I respond, feigning nonchalance, but the way that Vicek’s unimpressed eyes look at me from above his glasses, I know that he doesn’t believe that one bit.

I walk past him, not sparing him another glance as the cool air kisses my skin, relieving me from the warm evening air. Goosebumps prick my skin as the dull thrum of base notes vibrates through the air. A knot forms in my throat. I look back at the door where Vicek is standing. The door slowly closes behind him, dimming the entrance we are standing in and blanketing us in the deep blue lighting. I deserve an Academy Award for this performance.

The realization of where I am and the man standing behind me becomes a weight crushing my chest. I back up until I press against the cool marble wall behind me, my hand reaching for the taser in my belt. Vision tunnels in on Vicek even though he isn’t paying attention to me. He is busy typing away on my phone.

Fuck.

I left my gun and vest in the car.

Calm. I am safe. I am not in that alley. I am capable of protecting myself.

It takes everything in me to force my chest to expand with air and control the release of it for eight counts, yet still, it feels as if I didn’t breathe an ounce of oxygen. My palms become slick, and I try to breathe again. My eyes dart for the door. I could go. I could escape this.

But I won’t. I have to prove to Vicek and myself that I can do this, and his grumpy ass can move on to picking on some other poor, innocent recruit or junior officer.

Still, my eyes drift to Vicek’s belt, and when I see the gun resting in his holster, I feel the tension in my shoulders relax. Vicek looks up from his phone, his hazel eyes landing on mine. Judging me. I let my face fall blank despite the panic threatening to overflow and pull me into its depths.

“Let’s go. We will chat with some of the ladies here and see if they have any insight into what has been going on.” Vicek walks past me and to the bouncer at the entrance. I steel myself, allowing the taut muscles in my face to relax into a look of nonchalance.

The burly man glares at Vicek until we both pull out our badges. Only then does a mask of cool indifference fall over his features as he allows us through. The fine hairs on the back of my neck rise in awareness as we pass him. There is something strange, almost inhumane, about the way this bouncer looks at us as we pass.

It may be the afternoon, but it seems the party still writhes on in the hedonistic club. Unlike the one I went to with Karmin and Rain, this one has slower, deeper, headier music playing almost hypnotically in the background. The music isn’t obnoxiously loud, yet the vibrations still thrum through me the same way as the club on my 21st birthday. Men and women gyrate and writhe against each other to the hedonistic beat while women hanging from dimly lit cages dance in what could be barely considered underwear. With each step, my pulse skitters and the further I get from the door, the stronger the magnetic pull is to return to safety.