Femme Fatale

Chapter Nine: Scott

"Earth to Scott." A damp towel smacked Scott in the face.

"Hey!" Scott yelled, recoiling in both surprise and disgust. Ryan, the towel-throwing culprit, snickered at his coworker.

"So nice of you to join us," Ryan said. He shook his head and walked away.

I probably deserved that, Scott thought to himself. He began to wash some dirty glasses in an attempt to look busy. But his mind couldn't be further from his job. Both his jobs.

Scott was a bartender and an undercover cop.

There was suspicion that the dive bar was involved in drug trafficking, and Scott had been trying to gather hard evidence for the better part of a year. Unfortunately for him, Lucky's ran a tight ship. The bartenders and wait staff were not privy to any closed-door meetings. But Scott was nothing if not patient, and he knew it would take time to earn the higher ups' trust.

Then he met Jo. Or, Alex, as he knew her. Scott rationalized that his affection for the girl was good for his cover. There was nothing suspicious about a flirty bartender trying to get laid. Right? But deep down, Scott knew that he was being distracted from his assignment. 

But how could he not be? Alex hadn't been to Lucky's since that strange night she took him home. And she had lied to him about her middle name - her middle name was Marie, not Josephine.

Scott had looked into Alex the day he met her. Alex Marie Smith was enrolled at Grant University as an Art History and Political Science double major. She was the only child to normal parents, and her background check turned up nothing of interest.

But why would she lie about her middle name? And why was her ex-boyfriend in her apartment? It was clear he wasn't supposed to be there. The whole situation made him feel uneasy, and his gut was telling him something was off.

He needed to talk to her. Jo never gave him her phone number, but he could easily find it. He was a cop, after all. He'd call her once his shift was over.

*        *        *        *        *        *

The phone was ringing.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Right before the phone went to Jo's voicemail, someone answered, but didn't say anything. Scott was expecting Jo to answer with a "Hello?" but there was just silence.

Awkward, confusing silence.

Finally, a male's urgent voice spoke: "Who is this?"

The hairs on the back of Scott's neck stood up. "This is Scott. Who is this? Where's Alex?" 

"She's not interested. Sorry. Don't call again."

Click.

Scott stared at his phone in shock. What had just happened? The peculiar phone call only made him feel worse about the situation. The male on the other end sounded panicked and angry. Scott decided to go to Jo's apartment. He needed to get to the bottom of this.

*        *        *        *        *        *

Scott knocked on Jo's apartment door. Just as he had expected, there was no response. He knocked again. "Alex?" he called out in vain.

Scott waited another minute, then looked over both his shoulders. The coast was clear, so he grabbed the Allen wrench from his pocket and quickly picked the door lock. He opened the door and quietly entered the apartment.

Scott looked around. The lights were on, but nothing appeared out of place. Scott ran a hand over the console table, thinking to himself. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of muffled voices from Jo's bedroom.

"Alex?" Scott called out.

No response.

This was not good. Scott unholstered his gun, pointed it at the floor, and crept to the bedroom. The door was slightly cracked. He took a deep breath, preparing himself.

Scott kicked open the door and pointed his gun at the two males in Jo's bedroom. One of them looked vaguely familiar, and both of them had their own guns pointed at him. Okay, this was bad.

"Police. Drop your weapons," Scott said instinctively.

Thomas and Jake lowered their guns. Thomas examined Scott for a moment, then spoke again.

"You're the guy J- Alex brought home the other night," Thomas said. Jake clenched his jaw. 

"And you're the ex-boyfriend," Scott said.

Thomas looked at him blankly, which confirmed that Jo had lied about that, too.

"Where's Alex? And who the hell are you guys?" Scott demanded.

"She doesn't know you're a cop, does she?" Thomas asked.

"I'm the one asking the questions here. In fact, I'm going to need you two to come in for questioning."

Jake and Thomas exchanged uneasy glances. The last thing they needed was the police to get involved in an already complicated situation.

Jake shot the police officer in the chest.

*        *        *        *        *        *

Thomas looked down at the lifeless body, a dark pool of crimson slowly forming on the hardwood floors.

"You just shot a cop," Thomas said in disbelief.

Jake put the silent pistol back in the waistband of his jeans, unfazed. "Yeah, I know."

"You just shot a cop who also happened to be my sister's lover in her own apartment," Thomas continued.

"I did what I had to do."

"Oh God. Jo is going to kill us." Thomas ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair in frustration, the other still clutching his gun.

"News flash, Tom. Jo is gone. We messed up, and they took her. And you know we can't have the police involved in any of this."

Thomas flinched at his friend's harsh words, but he did know Jake was right. He didn't say anything.

"And I don't know about you, Tom, but I'm going to do everything in my power to get her back. I don't care who I have to kill. Now are you going to help me with the body or just stand there?"

Thomas took a deep breath. "Fine."

Jake nodded, and the two friends got to work.

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