Dead Ends by Don Easton Page B

Varrick.
    â€œI thought he wasn’t gonna show up until another couple of days,” replied Zack.
    â€œCome on,” laughed Varrick. “There’s nobody else it could be. It’s him, fuckin’ with us.”
    â€œThen why isn’t he comin’ in to laugh at us?”
    â€œProbably will in a few minutes.”
    â€œCocktail, you fuckin’ bastard,” grumbled Zack. “Man, what a fuckin’ night that was,” he added.
    â€œYour fault for breakin’ the glassware,” said Varrick.
    â€œIt was you who cracked the door open for fresh air,” replied Zack.
    â€œI didn’t know a fuckin’ nosy priest would be outside listening,” answered Varrick.
    â€œHe wasn’t listening when we saw him. Too busy talking to God.”
    Varrick chuckled, but his voice became serious when he added, “Good thing Cocktail came along.”
    â€œI guess,” replied Zack. “He wasn’t laughin’ then. Fuckin’ near shit when we helped drag him in by the ankles.”
    â€œHe’s gotta be laughin’ at us. Come on, let’s go find him. We’re done here, anyway.”
    Connie closed her eyes for a moment. Jack, you did it. Split this case wide open.
    Jack answered his BlackBerry and listened to Connie’s excited and happy voice as she relayed what had transpired.
    â€œBad news,” said Jack. “I don’t know anyone with the nickname of Cocktail.”
    â€œYou don’t? Crap … well, I’m sure we will. Man … fantastic! Don’t worry. With what we got tonight I won’t have any problem getting the wire renewed. They said Cocktail is coming by in a couple of days. Jack, I’m so happy I could kiss your sweet little ass.”
    â€œI appreciate that, but I don’t think Natasha would,” said Jack, chuckling. “Also, it looks like we’ve got movement. Targets are leaving.”
    â€œMaybe they’re going to meet with Cocktail,” suggested Connie.
    â€œMaybe. Or someone will. The problem is what will they do when they find out it wasn’t Cocktail who hung the crucifix on their door?”
    â€œWho cares?” replied Connie. “With what we’ve got on wire, this case is basically solved. Especially if we can lay a conspiracy charge. All we need is to identify Cocktail. Maybe tonight we’ll do that, too.”
    Surveillance continued. Varrick retrieved his truck and went to Zack’s apartment building where Zack parked and got in with Varrick before driving to Headstones.
    â€œI don’t like this,” said Jack as he and Laura parked in their usual spot to watch.
    â€œMaybe they’re chatting with Cocktail,” suggested Laura. “If we scoop the plates, we might identify him tonight. What’s the worry?”
    â€œThe bikers kept these guys on ice a long time before deciding to set up another lab. I think they were protecting someone. Maybe Cocktail.”
    â€œSo? Your point being?”
    â€œIf Cocktail is really valuable, they wouldn’t risk having him go to Headstones. With what happened, Satans Wrath could be looking at Varrick and Zack as loose ends.”
    â€œOh, man.”
    â€œExactly.”
    Numerous vehicles came and went from Headstones. Jack and Laura snuck around on foot and identified several licence plates belonging to prospective members of Satans Wrath as well as numerous other criminals. None were associated with any name or occupation that would warrant the nickname of Cocktail.
    It was four o’clock in the morning when the lights went out at Headstones. Varrick’s truck remained parked.
    â€œMaybe Zack decided to spend the night,” said Laura hopefully.
    â€œAbove ground or below, is the question,” replied Jack.
    * * *
    It was ten o’clock the next morning when Jack’s question was answered. He arrived at work and saw a computer message saying that a Detective Wilson