Shadow Of The Day Chapter Two
Gary stared at his blank TV, contemplating on reaching for the remote. He studied his reflection in the glass, taking note to his slumped posture as his body sunk lower into the cushions beneath him. His mind raced with the possibilities of why the cops had chased him half way across Chicago.
He had remembered studying police corruption in one of his history courses in college. The main focus was during prohibition, but even now dirty cops were on the rise throughout the city. Maybe he had witnessed a form of police brutality and the cops didn't want him to tell anyone. It just didn't make any sense. He didn't know their names to turn them in, nor did he know the situation. Why were they so dead set on catching him?
He leaned back and rested his head on the armrest. The silence within his loft was eerie, so he finally mustered up enough energy to reach for the remote, flipping the channel to the nightly news. He frowned when the weather report came on. Twenties and lower for the rest of the week with a chance of snow everyday. Wintertime always made him question why he chose to stay in Chicago. He loved this city too much, and he had always vowed he'd never flock down to Florida like most people did when they reached retirement age.
Fighting off his exhaustion, he stood up and walked to the kitchen. He rummaged through the refrigerator, groaning when he saw that he was in desperate need to go grocery shopping. The pantry was empty as well, so he strode back to the refrigerator in hopes that something would magically appear if he continued to go back and forth between the two. There was always the option of going down to the bar and grabbing something from the kitchen. McGinty's didn't close for another hour and he hadn't checked on the place all day.
His legs ached as he walked down the stairs, hearing the loud thump of music bang through his eardrums as he got closer to the social gathering. Smoke stung his nose, but he had grown used to that from tending the bar. He nodded at the new bartender he had recently hired, her name escaping his memory at the moment.
"Been a busy night?" He stuck his head in the cupboard, grabbing a bag of peanuts and a beer from the cooler.
"Not too bad. Just the usual crowd." She wiped down a shot glass and replaced it on a shelf. "I thought you were taking the evening off."
He peeled the outer shell off of one of the nuts, tasting the saltiness as it crunched between his teeth. "I am. I just needed a snack." He paused. "If you need any help closing the place down just call me. It's no problem."
She grinned and let out a small giggle. Gary assumed she was shy, and it made him wonder why she chose the job of a bartender. "Thanks Gary. I think we got it under control."
Again, he had forgotten who else was here to help her out. His mind was so out of sorts that he left it at that and walked back up the stairs to his loft, his peanuts and beer in hand. He channel surfed for what seemed like ten minutes before he found an old black and white western that really didn't appeal to him, but was the only thing on that wasn't some type of infomercial.
This time he didn't fight the sleep that overcame him and closed his eyes with the TV on full blast in front of him.
The same loud thud echoed through his loft and he jolted up from the couch at the sound of the cat's meow from behind his door. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and took note that he had left the TV on all night. He kicked his legs over the side of the cushions, his body aching from the awkward position he had slept in all night. He leaned his head back in hopes to work the crick out of his neck, but it only accented the stiffness. Even the arches of his feet were sore and it was a sudden reminder of the long distance run he had endured the day before.
He yawned and ran his hand through his hair, watching the cat run into his living room. He threw the newspaper on the coffee table and leaned against the wall, glancing down at it. The main headline was about the weather, yet again. That was a good sign. If the top news story was about something like that it might mean for a slow news day. He smirked at the thought. He wasn't going to count his chickens before they hatched, so he grabbed the Chicago Sun Times and ran his fingertips over the black ink.
Gary flipped through page after page, pausing when he got to an article under the local section. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes scanned through the small font.
Chicago Police Search for Unidentified Man
He swallowed hard when he read the description of the man. Police are on the look out for a Caucasian man in his early thirties who is around six foot one and one hundred eight-five pounds with dark hair. It was a vague description but it still made his palms grow sweaty. How many men in Chicago fit that build? He was last seen wearing a black leather jacket and dark blue jeans. If it weren't for the last line of the article, he wouldn't have put much more thought into it.
"Damn." His back slid down the wall until his body met up with the floor. He rested his arms on his knees. That was what he was wearing. But then again, there were many leather jackets and blue jeans. Maybe a circumstance? Highly unlikely, since three cops randomly gave chase to him yesterday. They probably went back to the station and told their lieutenant some outrageous story in hopes to get Gary put behind bars before he could speak of the situation he knew nothing about.
"Hobson?" He heard a knock on his door but didn't get up. He recognized the voice. "You home?"
"Come on in, Brigatti, the door is unlocked." He remained on the floor. "What brings you by?" He watched her walk across the room. Maybe she could help him. It would be good if he had caught the cop's names, but he didn't. In fact, he really didn't have a good way to describe them.
"What are you doing on the floor?" She arched her eyebrow and sat a styro-foam cup of coffee on his table. "I was on my way to work and thought I'd stop by and bring you something to eat. If you don't have anywhere to go to day I suggest you stick around the bar."
"Why?" He finally kicked his legs out in front, averting his body to a standing position. He knew why, it was forecasted as possibly one of the coldest days of winter on record.
"Have you watched the weather? Not supposed to get over negative fifteen today." She put a small bag beside his coffee. He took notice to the grease splotches that soaked through the side and figured it was either bagels or donuts. It didn't matter though; he wasn't hungry and probably wouldn't eat it anyway.
"Then why didn't you go straight to work? I had food here." It was so odd of her to stop by that he began to question the whole situation. Did they send here to see how much he knew? Or he could just be paranoid. Maybe she was just being nice.
"It was on my way, Hobson. Take it or leave it." She looked down at her watch. "I gotta get going."
He nodded and walked her to the door. "Thanks for bringing me breakfast, Brigatti. Sorry I wasn't a bundle of joy. Just have a lot on my mind." He grabbed the side of the door, looking down at his rug and back up at her. "See you later." Before she left he grabbed her arm, his fingertips digging deep into her suede coat. "Do you think you could stop by McGinty's after work? I've got something I want to ask you." He would have done it this morning to kill the anticipation, but she was going to be late and he didn't want to keep her any longer.
"Ask right now."
"No, it's already late and you need to get going. Just stop by after work. I'll be there."
"Okay then. Talk to you this evening." She turned on her heel made her exit. Gary watched her walk down his stairs and out of sight, swallowing some bile that was in the back of his throat. Maybe he could ask her if anything suspicious was happening in the department, but the chances of her knowing were about as good as a snowflake's chance in hell. They might not even be located in the same precinct as her.
He shut the door again, locking the deadbolt and latching the chain behind him. There were a few minor things in the paper he had to deal with and he was thankful for that. He knew he couldn't deal with some huge rescue at the moment. With everything running through his brain he was liable to kill everyone rather than helping them.
It was after six and every time the bells would jingle over the door of McGinty's Gary would glance up from what he was doing to see if Brigatti was walking through. He knew she would think he was completely crazy when he asked the questions he had thought up, but what was new? At times he could swear she was on the verge of throwing him in a padded room.
"Gary, you are so jumpy." Marissa sipped on her club soda and traced the outline of her coaster.
"How…" The bell chimed again and he jerked his head up, but it was only two businessmen dressed in dark suits. "How can you tell?" Sometimes he wondered if Marissa was really blind. She observed things so much better than most people who could see what was right in front of them did.
"Every time the door opens you stop what you are doing. I know you too well, Gary. Want to tell me what's wrong?"
He turned towards a customer and topped their beer off, wiping down a few drops that escaped from the pitcher. "You know what's wrong. I want to know what the hell happened yesterday, and why." He tried to keep his voice low, but the music was so loud that no one around him would have the faintest idea of what he was saying anyway.
"It's over and done. Let it go."
Gary gritted his teeth and twisted the towel tightly in his hand, turning the fibers until it felt as if the strings would rip in half. "Can you explain the article about the man that Chicago PD is searching for then? You know it's referring to me."
Marissa shook her head no. "We don't know that. You said so yourself, there are thousands of men in Chicago that could look like that."
Gary ignored her and took notice to three men sitting towards the back of the bar, close to the jukebox. He tried not to draw attention, but couldn't peel his eyes off of them. He wasn't too sure, but they looked oddly familiar. None of the three were in uniforms, but each looked somewhat like the officers that he had dealt with.
Brigatti's timing couldn't have been any better, and his nerves settled some when he saw her walk through the threshold. "Hey, I'm going to take a break. I'll be back in a minute." He nodded at his other bartender and placed his towel beside Marissa, touching her hand. "I'll be back. I need to go talk to Brigatti."
He waved at Brigatti and she strode towards him through the hazy smoke that blanketed the room. He kept one eye on her and one on the suspicious men in the corner. "Hey Hobson, why the worried look? What was it you needed to ask?"
He chewed on the inside of his cheek and grimaced at the fact that he wasn't hiding his mood too well. He took in a long sigh, smelling the hint of nicotine and whiskey that filled the atmosphere. "If you can't answer me, just say so."
Brigatti nodded, her brow creasing. "Okay."
"Are there any scandals going on within the department right now?"
Her immediate reaction told Gary that she thought he was a complete moron and was wrong for even asking, but he waited patiently for her to respond. "What? Why would you ask me something like that?"
Gary eyed the table and noticed that the men hadn't moved from their location. "Nothing. Never mind. Do you see those guys back at the back?" He didn't point, but motioned with his head. "Don't make it obvious, but when you get a chance take a look."
Brigatti glanced over her shoulder, turning back to him. "Nope, not a clue. Now why are you asking about scandals? What is wrong? Let me guess, you can't tell me? Is it one of your hunches?"
He tapped his fingertips on the surface of the wooden table, picking at some spots that were warped from years of wear and tear. "I've just been studying up on some of Chicago's police corruption in the past. Made me wonder if you knew about any right at this moment." It sounded redundant the moment he said it, but it was the best excuse he could find.
"No! What kind of cop do you think I am?"
"A good one. Which is why I think you'd have the upper hand on dirty cops and what they are up to."
He watched her facial expression change. One minute she was angry, the next she was calm. "I can't really talk about this." She ran her hands over her face. "We do suspect that a few of the cops in the twenty-eighth precinct are taking bribes and running drugs. Like I said, it's just a suspicion." She grabbed his hand. "Hobson, if this leaks to anyone I'll lose my job. And if I find out it has been released, I'll know exactly who spilled the information."
Gary leaned back in his chair and wondered why she didn't recognize the men. Maybe they weren't who he thought they were, or if they were the cops involved in the suspicion to begin with. He still had several pieces of the puzzle that were missing and could possibly be making something out of nothing. Either way, he wouldn't rest easy until he knew that the altercation with the cops was over.
"Your secret is safe with me."