Read Online Jack Daniels and Associates: Snake Wine by Bernard Schaffer - Free Book Online
Authors: Bernard Schaffer
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Herb Benedict here with some hot Asian chickee who told him it was time to leave. I will throw you in lockup so fast your head spins if you tell me one more lie, you little shit."
"Whoa!" the bartender said, "I'm not lying! The fat dude was here with some girl and they left together!"
"Really?" I said. "Which way did they go then, huh? Where's his car? Which of Keenan Marvin's goons did you tip off, you son of a bitch!"
"Hey!" Frank said, grabbing me by the arm to pull me back.
"Goons? What the hell are you talking about? You know what, I'm done," the bartender said, holding up his hands. "You're not allowed to threaten me like that."
"Nobody threatened you," Frank said, trying to lead me toward the door.
"The hell I didn't!" I shouted. "I swear to God I will put you in a hole so deep you'll need dentures before you ever see daylight again."
"That's it," Frank said. "We're done. Good night."
"Hey," the bartender said. "What's your names? I want your names."
He was grabbing for a pen and a napkin by the register, telling us we had to give him our names, that it was in the Constitution. Frank shoved the door open and blocked me with his body, forcing me outside, keeping me from going back for more.
"I'm serious, I will call the cops if you don't give me your names!" the bartender shouted.
Frank turned his head and said, "Relax. No problem. She's Janice Rand and I'm Christopher Pike. We work for NCIS. Thank you for your cooperation."
The bartender was scribbling it all down when I heard him say, "NCIS? Really?"
Frank pulled the bar's front door shut and held his hand up to my face, telling me not to talk until we were a safe distance away. I stormed down the street to the nearest alleyway, hands clenched into tight fists, waiting for Frank to limp after me. I held up my hand to stop him and said, "You are this close to getting arrested for interfering in a criminal investigation!"
"He wasn't lying," Frank said calmly.
"The hell he wasn't! I've known Herb Benedict since I started working plainclothes. I've known Bernice since they got married. You seriously expect me to stand there and listen to that crock of horseshit about some Asian supermodel who took him home? So help me God, Frank. You interfere in one of my interrogations one more time and I will arrest you, understand? Do not ever get in my way again. We're done. I don't know why the hell I let you tag along this far!"
Frank put his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath, waiting to see if I was finished.
"Call a taxi back to your hotel," I finally said. "In fact, just take it right to the airport and get on the next plane back home. You don't have any further business out here. Chicago's made it this far on our own, so thanks for the help, but no thanks. You're no longer needed."
I turned around to leave, trying to tear my keys out of my pocket as I headed for my car. Frank called out, "I can get to Keenan Marvin. Can you do that?"
I stopped at the mouth of the alleyway but didn't turn.
"Marvin's lawyered up and he's in custody. The police can't get within five miles of him to ask him anything, and he knows it. But I can. I can ask him about all sorts of things, including whether or not he knows any Asian supermodels."
I felt hot tears coming down my cheeks and I hated it. My teeth were grinding together so hard I thought they might crack. "If Marvin took Herb…I'm going to kill him. I swear to Christ, I will kill that bastard no matter what."
"I know," Frank whispered. I could feel him standing behind me, close enough to shield the wind, close enough that I felt the warmth of his breath on my neck. "Breathe, all right?"
"I'm fine," I muttered.
"Let me ask you something. When you get to a murder scene, do you bust through the tape and run right up to the body and start looking for hair fibers, or do you walk around the outside first? You start out from a distance and work your way in, right?"
I didn't answer. The question didn't require
"Whoa!" the bartender said, "I'm not lying! The fat dude was here with some girl and they left together!"
"Really?" I said. "Which way did they go then, huh? Where's his car? Which of Keenan Marvin's goons did you tip off, you son of a bitch!"
"Hey!" Frank said, grabbing me by the arm to pull me back.
"Goons? What the hell are you talking about? You know what, I'm done," the bartender said, holding up his hands. "You're not allowed to threaten me like that."
"Nobody threatened you," Frank said, trying to lead me toward the door.
"The hell I didn't!" I shouted. "I swear to God I will put you in a hole so deep you'll need dentures before you ever see daylight again."
"That's it," Frank said. "We're done. Good night."
"Hey," the bartender said. "What's your names? I want your names."
He was grabbing for a pen and a napkin by the register, telling us we had to give him our names, that it was in the Constitution. Frank shoved the door open and blocked me with his body, forcing me outside, keeping me from going back for more.
"I'm serious, I will call the cops if you don't give me your names!" the bartender shouted.
Frank turned his head and said, "Relax. No problem. She's Janice Rand and I'm Christopher Pike. We work for NCIS. Thank you for your cooperation."
The bartender was scribbling it all down when I heard him say, "NCIS? Really?"
Frank pulled the bar's front door shut and held his hand up to my face, telling me not to talk until we were a safe distance away. I stormed down the street to the nearest alleyway, hands clenched into tight fists, waiting for Frank to limp after me. I held up my hand to stop him and said, "You are this close to getting arrested for interfering in a criminal investigation!"
"He wasn't lying," Frank said calmly.
"The hell he wasn't! I've known Herb Benedict since I started working plainclothes. I've known Bernice since they got married. You seriously expect me to stand there and listen to that crock of horseshit about some Asian supermodel who took him home? So help me God, Frank. You interfere in one of my interrogations one more time and I will arrest you, understand? Do not ever get in my way again. We're done. I don't know why the hell I let you tag along this far!"
Frank put his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath, waiting to see if I was finished.
"Call a taxi back to your hotel," I finally said. "In fact, just take it right to the airport and get on the next plane back home. You don't have any further business out here. Chicago's made it this far on our own, so thanks for the help, but no thanks. You're no longer needed."
I turned around to leave, trying to tear my keys out of my pocket as I headed for my car. Frank called out, "I can get to Keenan Marvin. Can you do that?"
I stopped at the mouth of the alleyway but didn't turn.
"Marvin's lawyered up and he's in custody. The police can't get within five miles of him to ask him anything, and he knows it. But I can. I can ask him about all sorts of things, including whether or not he knows any Asian supermodels."
I felt hot tears coming down my cheeks and I hated it. My teeth were grinding together so hard I thought they might crack. "If Marvin took Herb…I'm going to kill him. I swear to Christ, I will kill that bastard no matter what."
"I know," Frank whispered. I could feel him standing behind me, close enough to shield the wind, close enough that I felt the warmth of his breath on my neck. "Breathe, all right?"
"I'm fine," I muttered.
"Let me ask you something. When you get to a murder scene, do you bust through the tape and run right up to the body and start looking for hair fibers, or do you walk around the outside first? You start out from a distance and work your way in, right?"
I didn't answer. The question didn't require
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