Nick wasn’t a big fan of cops.
Whenever anyone asked, he was “Back the Blue” all day long, but in reality, he thought most cops were suckers who became cops because they were mad about getting picked on at school.
That Maria Varela was an exception. He’d kind of dug her even though she looked at him like he was an idiot. Maybe because she’d looked at him like he was an idiot. She’d looked at him like his muscles and smile and eyes weren’t attractive in the least.
Granted, Maria was gay, but even lesbians had found Nick attractive. He’d slept with a couple over the years. Considered it his greatest conquests. But Not Maria, she didn’t give a fuck. She was probably the only fascinating cop Nick had ever met. Totally unlike the scumbag cop sitting across the table from him. The guy could never be undercover, too white, too chiseled. He was the kind of guy who played cops in movies.
But apparently, he was the real deal. Guy’s name was Connor Somethingorother. Nick was already bored with him and just trying to figure out how to get him out of the room.
“I’m sure you can understand how busy Patrick Miller is. He’s always happy to meet with the brave men and women who keep our streets safe, but today is a difficult day. I’ll put you in touch with his scheduler and we’ll see what we can set up for next week,” Nick said.
“I didn’t think the security guy would be so smooth. That’s what you are, right? The security guy,” Connor said.
“I am in charge of security for the campaign, yes,” Nick said.
“The way you said that bullshit about ‘brave men and women’, I mean, I almost bought that load of crap myself. You looked me right in the eyes and everything. That’s some next level bullshitting,” Connor said.
“I can assure you-”
Connor waved him off before he could get going with his next line.
“Look, I have some inside information about an investigation that involves the candidate and you and a man named Vance Nixon,” Connor said.
“I can’t imagine what investigation would be interested in the three of us. I can’t even remember the last time I saw Vance, and I know Patrick hasn’t spoken with him since we left the service,” Nick said.
“Yeah, sure. So, are we getting Patrick or am I leaving?” Connor said.
“You can tell me whatever it is you have to say, and I’ll transmit the message. I can’t be wasting Patrick’s time with nonsense,” Nick said.
“You sure about that?” Connor said.
“What is it you want to tell Patrick?” Nick said.
“That’s the thing. Maybe you didn’t hear me properly, but I ain’t telling you shit. I’ll talk to Patrick, but not to you. You’re just some schmuck in a nice suit. Patrick is the one who’s going to have pull and influence if he wins this election. Now, do I think he’s going to win? No, no, I don’t, but hey, if the longshot comes through, I’ll have some chits, right?” Connor said.
“He doesn’t have time to see you,” Nick said.
“Well, give me a ring when he does. Hopefully, it won’t be too late.” Connor stood up. Turned to go.
“Hold on a second. Let me see if Patrick has a minute or two for this nonsense,” Nick said.
Patrick didn’t want to talk to any police officers.
“I really think you should talk with him,” Nick said.
“But what good can come from this?” Patrick asked.
“If they know something, it’s better if we find out ahead of time,” Nick said.
“But what could they know exactly?” Patrick said.
“He mentioned Vance Nixon,” Nick said.
“I told you using him was a mistake. This is probably a play by him to press me as leverage,” Patrick said.
“I needed a wingman, didn’t I? Who else could have done that with me? You? You were busy at some country club drinking wine and tickling the testicles of billionaires,” Nick said.
“Fuck you,” Patrick said.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m an asshole. You think you’d be over it by now. Come on. Let’s hear this guy out,” Nick said.
Connor didn’t look surprised when Nick told him Patrick had time, but Nick couldn’t decide if Connor was just a great bluffer or supremely confident. Cops, they taught them to handle everything with aggression and bravado. That was all great until mortar started dropping around your head.
Patrick was all smiles when Connor walked into the back office, but he was nervous. Connor probably couldn’t tell. Patrick was great at hiding his emotions, but Nick could see it clear as day.
Connor sat down in a straight-back chair in front of Patrick’s desk. Mentioned that the office seemed a little drab. Maybe some photos would be a good idea.
“We’re not here much,” Patrick said.
“Yeah, you are always on the move, aren’t you? Pressing flesh. Smiling. Photos. A real man on the upswing, huh?” Connor said.
“I understand you have something that you want to tell us,” Patrick said.
“Does the name Christopher Wilkins mean anything to you?” Connor said.
Patrick didn’t answer. Just smiled.
“Are you here on an investigation officer?” Nick said.
“Me, no. I work gangs. You two aren’t members of a gang, are you?” Connor said.
Patrick smiled. Said of course not.
“I didn’t think so. Look, I did some digging into this guy, Christopher Wilkins, and what do you think I found out?” Connor said.
“No idea,” Patrick said.
“Sure you do. I found out this guy, Wilkins, was suspected of kidnapping and murdering your wife’s sister. Got away with it and everything, didn’t he? Guy made the mistake of coming back to the United States and disappeared. Now, I could give two flying fucks about some shitbird pedophile. I think we should bring back the rack just for them, but the thing is, Patrick, do you mind if I call you Patrick? The thing is, you’re the challenger. You don’t have the sway that the incumbent has, and the incumbent has gotten the Las Vegas Metro Police to create a small task force to look for this missing man, and they seem to think there’s some connection between Mr. Shitbird Wilkins, and a dead reporter by the name of Les Hilton. They even have a witness who claims to have seen an Oldsmobile on the night of Les’s killing. An Oldsmobile, right? Like who the hell still drives one of those? But this task force seems to think they know where the Oldsmobile is and are planning on executing a search,” Connor said.
“Where are they going to be searching?” Nick said.
“I’m not sure, but they’re planning on executing the search tomorrow afternoon,” Connor said.
“Well, I don’t think we need to worry about any searches because we don’t have anything to hide,” Patrick said.
“Of course, you don’t,” Connor said. “That’s why you invited me in here. Because you have nothing to hide.”
“What is it you want, exactly?” Nick said.
“I don’t want anything. Like I told you. I just want you to remember who it was that looked out for you when you’re on top of the world,” Connor said.
After Connor was gone, Patrick asked Nick what he thought.
“I don’t know what to think,” Nick said.
“I thought you had contacts in the police department,” Patrick said.
“I do. But what he said about incumbents is true. They have a lot more pull than challengers, no matter how well financed,” Nick said.
“And the Oldsmobile? That was strangely specific,” Patrick said.
“Yes, it was.”
“Should we be worried?” Patrick said.
“No, but I can’t go on this trip with you. I should stay here and tie up some loose ends,” Nick said.
“I don’t want any freelancing,” Patrick said.
“I told you that wasn’t me,” Nick said.
“I know what you said, Nick. But I want this to be very clear. If you need to dispose of a vehicle, fine. But no more bodies. No more kidnapping. No more things that need to be hidden,” Patrick said.
Once Patrick was gone, Nick made a call.
“I think we’re getting set up. Meet me at the house tonight and come prepared,” Nick said. Then he hung up.