Bull's Eye: Confessions of a Fake Psychic Detective #3

Chapter 23

Vince doesn't offer any further explanation of why he, Zandra and Jo careen away from Chubby's in the Jeep at 20 over the limit. Jo looks just as shocked as Vince does. They blow the steam away with intercourse at a rest area while Zandra picks through the sand on top of the garbage bins for salvageable cigarettes.

They must've had a close call or they wouldn't be fucking. Could be serious.

The rest area is abandoned given the hour, but Zandra doesn't let her guard down. It's too easy to blow in and out of the parking lot by the bathrooms.

Finish up. I've only got 72 hours to figure out who killed Julia Topaz. About 60 by now. Can't stop to grind their bits to powder every time their pulse skips.

Zandra finds a dirty matchbook on the pavement with a couple strikes left. She presses a couple inches of mashed tobacco to her lips and lights up.

Unless they're not actually fucking.

Her companions finally emerge a few moments later. Jo pops a dip in and stretches her hamstrings on the sidewalk. Vince checks his zipper before popping a few coins into a vending machine.

"They say drinking diet pop is bad for you," Zandra says as she exhales a cloud of foul smoke. "Give you cancer, you know."

"Worth it," Vince says. He cracks a can open and downs a pep pill before offering the same to Jo. "Totally worth it."

When they come down from those things, it will be a no-wheels landing.

Zandra hacks into her sleeve. Keeps her eyes away from Jo and Vince. Doesn't want them to see the pain.

"So? What happened?" Zandra says, breaking the awkward silence that somehow manifested between them.

Jo fields this one. She crosses her arms and says, "We go in, ask if anyone's seen that guy with scars on his face. I try the bar. Vince works the visual entertainment area. Big mistake."

"Yeah. Suddenly, we're not the one asking the questions anymore. The shit-kicker bouncers tell us to leave, and they don't do it gently," Vince says. "I was on the edge of doing everything half-assed for the rest of my life."

Zandra chuckles, but it comes out as a cough. She wipes her mouth on her sleeve and says, "That's one way to say 'yes.'"

Never quite understood the breed of masculinity that convinces itself to hang out at these places. Biologically, yes, the explanation is simple. It's also cheap. Either you're missing that kind of female attention in your everyday life, you think stepping on someone else will lift you up or you're some idiot wanting to feel what adulthood is like on a non-election day. If you're a real tough guy, you don't need to burn your cash at a place like Chubby's.

None of that really matters now. After the cutiology, I have everything I need.

"Couldn't be more obvious. One of us needs to get back inside, find out more," Jo says. Her eyes rest on Zandra.

"Are you suggesting I fill out a job application?" Zandra says.

"People don't get defensive unless they're hiding something," Jo says.

"Then I suppose I could ask you what you two are doing during your little breaks together," Zandra says, flicking the mashed cigarette back into the sand.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jo says, getting defensive.

Wouldn't be the first time I had to walk in on a rendezvous for two. Or three.

Better recover this one for now, though. Don't want to cause a meltdown, especially when we don't need to go back to Chubby's anyway.

"It means that just because someone is defensive, it doesn't mean they're hiding anything. Maybe the business wants to focus on, oh, I don't know, the reason it's in business. You two march in there, skip the two-drink minimum and start distracting customers from reaching into their wallets. I don't blame them for giving you the boot," Zandra says.

Jo's expression loosens.

Good.

"You're the psychic. You got a better idea?" Jo says.

"Maybe you want to tell us about who you were talking to in the parking lot," Vince says in quick succession.

"Cutiology. I gave her a cutiology reading," Zandra says. She pauses to swallow the crud in the back of her throat and catch her breath.

Vince nods. "Yeah, I've heard of that before. So?"

Really?

"Told me everything I needed to know," Zandra says. "Get back in the Jeep. I know exactly where to go next."