Free Crystal Meth Cowboys by John Knoerle Page B

the side. Lyedecker sat next to him on the bench and twirled hiscombination lock for the third time. Officers Hansey and Alarcon, at the opposite end of the corridor of lockers, laughed. Bell referred to the feminine hygiene pad Wes had retrieved from the first aid kit in the trunk of the unit. Wes had been surprised to find it inside the blue and white box, though it had worked remarkably well in stanching the blood that pumped from the abdomen of Esteban Rodriguez.
    Jake Hansey repeated Bell's line to himself as he stood in a white t-shirt and a pair of blue boxer shorts big as a dirndl skirt. His skin was so pale it was hard to tell where he left off and the t-shirt began. Renaldo fastened a cordovan belt around his navy slacks.
Once Upon a Time
by the Moody Blues replaced Kenny Loggins on the Muzak speaker. "Isn't Rodriguez the guy who beat his mother half to death?"
    "Che was maddoggin' heem, mang," Bell protested, his arms flying. "Che was gibing heem the evil eye, mang, the
ojo malo! Comprendo
?"
    "Si, si, senor," sang out Hansey in his Okie accent, his adam's apple bobbing like a fishing float.
    Wes tried his lock for a fourth time. He was sure the third number was somewhere between 20 and 25. He tried 24 and the tumblers clicked. Wes opened the locker, then bent down and eased a stiff black oxford off his foot. He was going to have to find time to get a better pair of shoes.
    "What's the wire on the assailant?" said Renaldo.
    "Reese is downstairs sweating him right now," said Bell, his back to Wes as he dropped his pants. He wasn't wearing any underwear. "But so far I've glommed that he and Mama were having an anniversary bash when Esteban slips in, downs a bottle of Mescal, comes on to the wife, then whips out a shiv and slashes our suspect in the face when he had the bad taste to object!" Bell folded his uniform pants along the crease and slid them onto a hangar. "Anyway, that's what he says. And he's got about 58 friendly witnesses."
    "Was Rodriguez tweakin'?" asked Renaldo.
    "He was tweakin' out of his cretinous little cranial cavity and I am shittin' you negative," replied Bell.
    "Lotta that going around," said Renaldo, combing his hair back on the sides. "Just yesterday we had a buncha crankheads get into it over at the Full Moon. Pool cues and barstools. About wrecked the place."
    "N-H-I," said Bell sadly.
    Renaldo nodded. "N-H-I."
    Jake Hansey laughed.
    Great, thought Wes, another acronym. Bell said, "We coudda been rid of that turdball forever if it weren't for Nurse Nancy over here."
    Wes looked up from the bench. All three cops were staring down at him. Wes met their looks. He tried to think of a rejoinder that didn’t make him sound like a boy scout. The stares turned as Sgt. James Harrick entered the locker room.
    Harrick had a large squared-off head, brushed-back black hair going to silver on the sides, deep set gray eyes and a chin that thrust out like a bulldozer blade. His forearms were the size of lamb shanks. "I'm going to take a leak, Bell," called Harrick over his shoulder as he strode bow-legged to the urinals. "You want to hold it for me?"
    Wes snapped his combination lock closed. The other cops, suddenly busy with their dressing and undressing, waited for the reply. Bell squared his shoulders and clicked his heels. "With both hands, sir," he said.
    ------
    Wes keyed open the door, flicked on the light and entered his apartment in the Lei Lani Village. The squinting nakedness of white walls assailed him. He made a mental note to buy some pictures. He crossed to the kitchen. The LED on the answering machine blinked red. Heopened the rerigerator and studied the contents. The shiny aluminum shelves held a six pack of V-8, a liter of Evian, a loaf of 7-grain wheat bread, a jar of mayonnaise, a jar of dark brown mustard, and an Oscar Mayer luncheon meat Variety Pak. Though he was very hungry the multitude of assembled ingredients looked too formidable to be disturbed. He grabbed the liter of