Big Stupid Drunk
Aiden's POV
He looks surprised again then the next second the idiot is laughing.
Alright, screw it. Time to go. I take a step, my boots making sticky sound on the floor. I raise my voice, make it loud enough. "NYPD. Victor Hale—Big Ray—you’re under arrest."
The words just hang there. The jukebox keeps grinding away, but everything else just stops. Eyes get wide and someone gives a nervous little laugh that dies real quick. The woman trying to get Ray's attention looks lost and then she stands up and just disappears into the shadows. Smart girl.
Big Ray blinks. Slowly, like my words have to travel through a mile of cheap whiskey to get to his brain. Then he leans back in his chair, slow and arrogant. "Well, well, well. Look who decided to show up." He say and looks at his boys, a stupid smirk on his lips.
"Cops. Here to save the day, huh?"
His boys chuckle. Then as if it's been rehearsed or maybe to piss me off, one of them spits on the ground next to where I'm standing.
Real classy.
"Get on your feet," Dana says. Her voice is sharp enough to cut glass. The guy who spat actually flinches.
Ray doesn't move. Ignores her completely. Completely ignores her like how you had ignore a silly five year old then he grabs his glass and drown the remaining content.
He slams the glass so hard that it makes a few people jump. "You barge into my house—" he gestures at the grimy bar like it's a palace, "—and think I'm just gonna roll over? Nah. Not tonight, sweetheart."
I move in closer. "We've had enough talk. You know how this goes. Stand up.”
He grin.
“Put your hands on the table where I can see them.”
“No Mommy.” He says bringing his face close to me and the whole table burst out laughing like hyenas.
The cop thinks he's in charge. Newsflash for you—this is Ray's kingdom. And nobody tells me what to do in my kingdom."
The crowd's stirring now. I can hear the whispers. They just can't wait for the drama and someone hurries to lower the T.V volume, the bartender just sighs and lit a cigarette.
Dana mutters to me, real low, "He's stalling."
My eyes don't leave Ray. “You know why we are here, don't you?”
He does. I can see it behind the drunk act. His eyes are too sharp. That smirk is too practiced.
I sigh and I try one more time. Criminals have one quality which is stubbornnes but the police in me is way more stubborn.
“You are wanted for questioning Victor Hale for the murder of your ex wife, Greta Johnson.You can come with us quietly or—"
He cuts me off with a roar. "Questioning about what? About my ex ? That cheating bitch? Huh?!"
And the whole bar goes dead silent. The word ex just hangs there.
He said ex. Like she just went in a vacation. This guy was an asshole and to think he just watched the news of the death of his ex wife.
Dana’s eyes flash to mine. I feel it too, that jolt. It's the slip-up. The one you pray for.
Ray realizes it a second too late. I can see the awareness dawn on his flushed face. He tries to wave a hand, play it off. "You cops got nothing. She's gone, good riddance. I ain't do nothing, you can't pin nothing on Big Ray either.”
I roll my neck sideways to push out the frustration. “Stand up,” I say, my voice as cold as ice.
My hand isn't just near my holster anymore. It's on it.
He smirks, but it's shaky now. He swallows, looks around like it's his first time here and take the glass again and try to drink the last drop, the idiot is just getting on my nerves.
He stretches like he's bored and yawns so loud that annoying smell attack my nose.
One of his fellow drunken friend who looks like a lizard fires uo, his voice squeaky. “Ray ain't gotta go nowhere.”
“Wow, I love your audacity.”
He tries to get up.
“Sit down. Now!” Dana snaps and ages half bringing out her gun and the guy immediately say back down and looks paralysed.
I move off to Ray, trying to keep my face tight.
"Hands. Where I can see them."
He raises them up, mock surrender, that stupid grin back on his face. "You got nothin'. You know what she was? She was trash. World's a better place without her."
That makes my jaw tighten. I feel Dana tense up next to me.
"Funny," I say, my voice low. "You sound pretty damn guilty for an innocent man."
His grin flickers just for a second.
"Turn around," Dana says, firm. "Hands behind your head."
He looks at her, his lips curling. "You're a feisty one. Bet you're real fun off—"
And that's it. I squeeze my eyes shut, force them back open and grab him and then twist him around that sends his yelling. I hit the cuffs on him.
The bar stirs, but Dana has her gun all the way out now, steady as a rock.
"Sit. Down," she orders the room, and the shuffling stops.
I lock the cuffs on his wrists. The click is so final. "You think these mean anything?" he gasps, his face squished against the sticky table. "I'll be out by morning. No body, no proof."
But he's wrong. We have witnesses. And now we have his big mouth.
Still, the way he starts to laugh as I haul him toward the door, it makes my gut clench. It's not the laugh of a man who's been caught. It's the laugh of a man who thinks he's won.
We push outside, into the night air. It feels so clean after that place. He looks at me and stumbles so he can lean close to my ears then he belches and the smell is out of this world.
A whisper, just for me.
"You'll never find it," he says, his teeth yellow in the streetlight. "You'll never find out what happened."
I freeze for half a beat as the air goes cold. Dana sees my face.
“Aiden.” She call. “What did he say?”
I can't answer as Ray throws his he
ad back and guffawed.
A sick, triumphant sound.
And right then, I know. This is just the beginning. This case is about to get a whole lot darker.