Chapter 4: Epic Boss

Chase Hancock frowned as he sat on the lump excuse for a cot. He glanced around the cell. It was dank, cold, and dirty, but at least he didn’t have to share one with the drunks and whores. His mind played and replayed the events of the last few days, still unable to believe they’d led him here to this disgusting jail cell. He stood up and paced the three by five room. The only thing that brought him pleasure was the blonde bitch got what she deserved.

Chase paused, closed his eyes and smiled as he remembered the moment. The look on her face was perfect! She had no idea what was coming until it was too late. They way her beautiful features twisted into shock as he took out the gun and shot her satisfied him more than anything she ever could do in his bed. His only regret was he couldn’t kill her twice. The realization was almost painful.

Opening his eyes he shook his head and started pacing again as his mind turned to Mouse. The freakish redhead friend. She had surprised him and it was rare for anyone to surprise him anymore. Chase expected her to act like a poor defenseless deer under a pair of headlights, an easily kill, but no. The cut on his cheek still stung from that damn vase she threw at him and damn, if she could run.

Chase had never lost the trail of someone so quickly. If only he could have a second chance, he thought sitting back down on the cot. He sighed with disappointment realizing that with the cops involved he probably wouldn’t get the chance to end her life himself. He really wanted to be the one who killed her. To be the last thing she saw before those brown eyes of hers go dull as the spark of life goes out.

“Hey Scumbag, you got a visit,” a potbellied cop sneered at him. About time, Chase thought, getting up from the cot once more. He strode over to the bars sticking his hands out between the little openings so they could cuff his hands while giving the obese cop a haughty smile. The cop glared at him and Chase’s smile grew. You’re lucky we’re here, you fat piece of crap or I’d make you beg for your ugly ass mother, he sneered silently.

The cop grabbed him with his beefy hand and shoved him down the hall to a small, barren room. Pushing him towards a tacky plastic seat at the table where his lawyer sat, the pig plodded out of the room. The lawyer, an aging man with a sly sleazy smile, played with his shirt cuffs. He looked rather pleased with himself as he looked up at Chase.

Though Chase wasn’t none too happy. He had spent way too much time in this cell already. “It’s Monday morning Zack, why the hell am I still in this dump?” Chase demanded.

“Because the police department has been arguing adamantly against your release, but I believe Judge Mathews will come to see our way of thinking by this evening,” the lawyer replied, his shady grin growing.

Chase wondered just how much it cost him to convince the judge to release him; then again he really didn’t care as long it got him out of this cell and away from these condescending cops. “Good, so what’s the news? Has my pest infestation been taken cared of yet?”

“No, not yet they are still trying to find it but Eddie promises they are getting close and should have it exterminated by the middle of this week,” the lawyer replied again with a stoic tone.

Chase smiled. Now that was good news and since he’d get out tonight, he may even have a chance to break his little mouse in two. “Wonderful but instead of exterminating it, bring the mouse to me. The idea of a pet is growing on me,” Chase ordered.

“Of course Mr. Hancock, I’ll let Eddie know immediately. Is there anything else I can do for you?” He asked.

“Besides getting me out of here as soon as possible? No.”

“I’m doing all that I can sir,” the lawyer told him as they stood.

Chase gave him a nod in reply and allowed the obese cop to pull him back to his cell while he committed the cop's badge number to memory. This pig was going to have an unfortunate accident later and Chase was going to kick over his gravestone. Who did this cop think he was pulling him around like that?

Chase looked at himself in the mirror, pleased to be back at home. Zack had come through and gotten him out that afternoon. He sighed, content to be clean, dressed and ready to get to work. Chase walked down the large wide staircase and into his private office where he poured a glass of whiskey. He took a swig of his drink enjoying the aged taste of the beverage when Eddie brought in their guest.

“N-nice to see you, Mr. Hancock,” the drug dealer said once he saw him. His voice nearly cracked from the anxious state he was in. “I knew they wouldn’t keep you in that hell hole long,” he added and Chase offered the man a cold smile.

“Of course they wouldn’t. I’m Chase Hancock,” he replied back coolly and held his hand out to his side where Eddie gave him his gun. “A fact that you seemed to have forgotten Larry,” Chase told him as he cocked the gun. He could hear the drug dealer swallow nervously and as he aimed at the sweating, nervous man watching as the dealer nearly pissed himself.

“Whoa, wait a minute! What’s going on?” he pleaded, holding up his hands.

“What’s going on is you’ve hit your third strike and now you’re out,” Chase told him.

“Whatta ya mean Mr. Hancock? I thought we were good after I gave ya my girl?” he asked with a confused look on his face.

“You stole from me so you repay me by handing off the blonde! She may have been a real firecracker, but, unfortunately, she turned out to be as useless as you when I caught her snooping around in my business. Dealing with that bitch has caused me a shit load of problems,” Chase snapped at him growing angrier. “If that wasn’t enough to just blow your worthless brains out right here and now I hear that you’ve been getting friendly with the cops.”

“No, no, no! I ain’t talked to nobody Mr. Hancock! I swear! I’m sorry about the whore! She seemed legit and knew her place, but I swear Mr. Hancock I ain’t talk to nobody!” the drug dealer pleaded.

“Sorry Larry but if I believed you I’d be the dumbest dumbass on the planet and well, to be honest, you can connect me to the blonde so I need to get rid of you anyway,” Chase told him then pulled the trigger silencing the babbling drug dealer finally. “Get the cleanup crew out here A.S.A.P. Eddie, get to finding out what Hunter is doing and find my mouse,” he shouted, then took a slow breath calming himself before walking out.

Friday Night, Chase looked at the warehouse on the edge of town as he tossed away his cigarette. He had been so busy the last week calming all his business associates who were freaking out on the murder charge. Idiots, all of them idiots, he thought walking towards the building. They should know by now that Chase Hancock always takes care of the loose ends. Tonight he was going to take care of his mouse problem.

Too bad Hunter had to go to San Francisco and miss all the fun, Chase thought with an amused smile though he still wasn’t too sure about that whole San Francisco deal. Something about Hunter going suddenly to San Francisco now of all times still seemed so off. Chase shrugged off the feeling and walked into the warehouse. It wouldn’t matter after tonight. “Where is she,” he demanded to the thug.

“Over here Mr. Hancock.” The thug led him upstairs and into a small office. Chase felt the adrenaline pump his system the closer they got. He wasn’t going to kill her quickly like he did the blonde; no he was going to enjoy this. He licked his lips with anticipation. He couldn’t wait to make her scream and beg for her life, not that it was going to do her any good. Just the thought of it nearly made him groan in pleasure.

However Chase’s eager smile fell when the door opened and he saw the red head in the chair. “What the hell is this?” Chase demanded and thug had the audacity to look confused.

“It’s… the mouse.”

Chase glowered at the thug and taking out his gun. “That isn’t my mouse,” Chase snarled at him waving the gun at the woman who flinched as the gun was pointed in her direction.

“But she was being protected by the cops.”

Chase growled in anger shooting the thug in his knee cap. He cried out as he collapsed to the ground holding his knee. “I don’t care! I said this isn’t the mouse,” he yelled. Chase stomped up to the woman. He pulled her head back by her hair and ripped out the gag. “Who the hell are you?”

“Maggie Kent,” she spat with a sly smile.

Anger nearly blinding him, Chase snarled before hitting her with the butt of his gun. “I’ve killed people for less! Tell me now who the hell you are or I swear I’ll make you scream,” he threatened but she just gave him a smug smile. “Fine,” he snapped and shot her right hand that was tied to the chair arm. She screamed in surprise and pain and Chase felt pleasure tingle through his body at the sound. “Are you going to start talking?”

“Backup will be here any minute,” she stammered, confirming what he already feared. She was a damn cop! Those idiots brought a pig into their midst. Chase let her go and walked up to the injured thug.

“You hear that, she’s a cop you damn idiot,” he shouted at the man who cowered away from him then he turned and emptied his gun on him. “Eddie, pack up and clean the place. We were never here. Bring the girl. Time to remind everyone just who they’re dealing with.” He started to leave then paused. The realization hitting him. “Eddie,” he barked.

“Yes sir?”

“Find that son of a bitch, Hunter. He’s got my mouse! Twenty million for the mouse alive, ten if I have proof of death, double it if the dog is brought in with her,” Chase demanded and stalked out of the warehouse.