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Brought to you right from the dark recesses of an insomniac's mind. Join Sam-Steele, Private Eye, in this four part serialized tale of MYSTERY! SUSPENSE! ADVENTURE! Sounds like your typical pulp fiction/film noir? Way more than that, cuz this heroine is in drag. We could tell you that this writer directed 2 music videos for Ani Difranco, worked as an Independent Producer for CBC, sold a documentary on Stonewall 25 to WTN, and wrote and directed an all-female western "SPAG" that has played everywhere from Japan to England to Texas. But that would be bragging wouldn't it?
For those readers who are tuning in to "Wake up Screaming" for the first time, please see February archive for Part I.
For those of you coming back for more, here it is:
Part II: Wake up Screaming
I am standing in a small room. A neon, green snake
jumps at me, striking my leg. I have only moments to live
when my cat traps it under his paw. I grab the snake by the
neck, pinching its skin so hard that I can feel it breathe.
The water is up to my neck now as the Amazon's pollution is
forced down my throat. I am choking. I see a canoe and grab
hold. A skull rolls out. I realize it is mine and scream.
I wake up.
The sheet under my partner's down filled comforter was wrapped
tightly around my neck. I untangled, and reminded myself never
to watch the Discovery channel before going to sleep. There
I am, Sam Steele- Private Eye.
Hollow Crime Part 2.
Sil Cone was leaning on a wall smoking. Sil was Nick's henchman.
The one to do all the dirty work. The enforcer, so to speak.
I nodded in his direction. He flicked the butt on the floor
and chuckled. I pushed open the door to Nick's office and
Sil followed me in.
Nick is sitting behind his desk. A real looker was rubbing his temples. Not the usual type to be a temple rubber. Her clothes were up-scale, classy. I guess even the high class go slumming for kicks.
NICK: Sam, what a pleasure. Have you met Rachel? Rachel, Sam is a
real life, Private Eye. You might find him intriguing.
SIL: Yeah, intriguing for a bedroom Dick.
I spun around to clock Sil when Rachel interrupted me with her scent of perfume approaching.
RACHEL: Pleased to meet you, Dick.
I took the hand she offered. Definitely not a temple rubber.
NICK: So what brings you here? Bourbon?
SAM: Just investigating a little honey by the name of Vicki
Hollow. Remember that nectar?
NICK: Aah, Vicki, the one who got away. I am afraid I havenÕt
seen her in weeks. Talk to Phil. He has been doing her lately. Big mistake,
I could have made her a star.
SAM: A shooting star?
SIL: Hey, I don't like your tone, buster.
Nick waved off his dog.
NICK: Sil, not in front of a lady. I think you
had better leave before I can't control Sil's temper anymore.
SAM: I got a leash, if you need it.
NICK (laughing): No thanks, I am covered in that area.
Sil held open the door. I decided there wasn't any point
in going back to prime Fingers. I made my way out the back
and stepped into the alley.
I love alleys. They have a smell of their own. They are the
backyard stenches of the facades called buildings. They hold
the truth about how people in this city really live. They
live in garbage. I stopped under a lamppost, like all detectives
do. Why break tradition? I lit a cigar and drew in a deep
breath. Nothing like the midnight air to clear a man's thoughts
of dead bodies. Then I smelled it. That perfume.
RACHEL: Don't gentlemen offer ladies a light anymore?
She stepped out from the shadows, a cigarette in hand. I fumbled for my lighter. She flicked a matchbox open and lit her own.
RACHEL: I think you and I should talk.
Maybe she was a temple rubber, maybe she was more dangerous than that. I found myself willing to find out.
The coffee shop around the corner had windows so stained from bad cooking, that we were camouflaged from the outside world. I handed her a cup of joe and sat down.
RACHEL: First of all, let's cut the charade. The
name's Licks and I am a Private Eye working on the Hollow
case. I work out of Chicago and have been hired by a certain
party who wishes to protect themselves in case of an incident.
What is your stake?
SAM: Personal intrigue.
LICKS: Better stick to what you know, cowboy. Let me ride this horse.
SAM: Why don't we start with a little file sharing?
LICKS: First of all, you are barking up the wrong
trees. Phil hired me when Vicki went missing. Now that she
is dead, he's asked me to sniff the killer out. I've been
on Nick's case. Seems like his alibi is rock solid. You see,
Vicki double crossed Phil. Nick was beat up when she left
him. He wooed her back with a large wedding present. She accepted.
But someone got to her before should could tell Phil.
SAM: What if Phil found Vicki before the dumpster did?
LICKS: Unless the guy used to belong to the Playhouse,
he wasn't acting. Real busted up on the inside. Didn't know
a thing.
SAM: Women are so sensitive to that. What about Nick, what makes
him a right off? What if Vicki was going to run off with the dough and Phil?
LICKS: When I went under cover, I went deep. Nick was with me most
the time.
SAM: And I am the bedroom Dick?
LICKS: A girl is allowed to have a little fun on the job. These hours
are killing my social life. The wedding present was to be given to her on their
honeymoon. The tickets were bought for Vegas but never used. It was a done deal.
Real smooth customer, that Vicki. I think she played Phil for a chump to work
change out of Nick.
SAM: Since you had Nick so occupied, what about Sil?
LICKS: He doesn't move without Nick. I have Nick's
balls busted. I would have known if he had found Vicki. HeÕs
not the type not to boast.
SAM: Doubt he has much to be proud of.
LICKS: You would be surprised.
SAM: So, why are you sticking around?
LICKS: Figured I would milk Phil out of a couple more dimes, then
head back to Chicago. Give it up, there are nothing but dead ends.
I stood up and dropped some nickels on the table and my card.
SAM: Call me if you find out anything before you head back to the
windy. Just curious.
LICKS: Oh, I bet you are.
Coy dames like that make me nervous. They are too smart for
my own good. I resumed my night walk through the alleys. A
fall chill wrapped the air and the sewers blew smog towards
the sky. Maybe I should drop the case? I mean, what is this
Vicki gal to me ? It isn't as though any dough is involved.
Just as I resigned to forget the matter, it happened.
VOICE: Vicki ain't your business.
There was a loud noise. I realized it was the sound of my head hitting the pavement. The lights went out.
STAY TUNED. MORE THRILLS AND SUSPENSE NEXT TIME!!!!!
Contact Lynne Kamm at 5a7@avivalasvegas.com. Make sure to put Lynne Kamm in the subject
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