Ken Douglas - Nightwitch

He walked to the foot of the double bed and ran his head around in a tight circle, moving his shoulders back and forth at the same time. He was tense, partly because of the woman on the other bed, but mostly because of what he would have to face soon.

He dropped the towel on the bed and stepped into a pair of Dockers. He didn’t like being naked. He picked the towel back up and dried his hair, then dropped it back on the bed and moved across the carpeted floor toward the television. He slipped on a tee shirt, followed by a dark brown sweater. He grimaced as he bent over and eased his feet into loafers without socks. Then he balled his fingers into fists, then flexed them, before leaving the room. They served coffee all night in the lobby.

“ How’s it going tonight?” He closed the door behind himself.

“ Fine,” the desk clerk said. She was an elderly woman with too much blue rinse in her hair.

“ Just came in for a cup of courage.” He poured himself a cup from the motel’s never empty jug. He was reaching for one of the free donuts when the flashing red and white lights pulled into the parking lot.

Police, he thought, turning away from the blue hair. He closed his eyes for a second and tried to summon up the fantasy blond, but he didn’t have enough time to do it right, so he gave it up, crossed himself and walked out into the night.

“ You. Stop.” The voice belonged to the young man that jumped out of the police car. It had the authority of one in command. Coffee stopped and smiled at the young cop.

“ Yeah, you. Where do you think you’re going?” The young man wasn’t wearing a uniform and didn’t have a gun. Instead he was clothed in jeans, a white tee shirt and black tennis shoes. He looked like he’d dressed in a hurry and he was pointing his finger like it was a thirty-eight.

“ My room.” Coffee hated to waste words.

The young man recoiled when he saw Coffee’s face, and retracted his finger, using it to push his longish hair out of his eyes.

“ Name?” the young man asked, walking toward him, still brushing his hair with his fingers.”

“ You a policeman?” Coffee asked, stepping back a couple of feet.

“ You know I am.”

“ Yeah. I guess I do.”

“ Answer the question.”

“ John Coffee.”

“ Holy shitsamoly,” the kid yelped as another police cruiser pulled into the parking lot. “Harrison, I got him, I got him,” he continued yelling to the man who got out of the other car. This one was wearing a uniform and had gun.

“ Back off you,” the officer said.

“ What’s this all about, officer?” Coffee backed away from the kid.

“ Hands up, no don’t put ’em up, turn around and face the wall.” The older cop pulled his gun.

Coffee turned, not wanted to upset the cop.

“ Frisk him, Marty,” the cop said.

The kid moved in and felt Coffee up the way policeman do. “He’s clean, Harrison.”

“ Can I turn around?”

“ Not till I cuff you.” Coffee dropped his hands behind his back and the cop put on the cuffs. “Okay, you can turn around now.”

“ Mind telling me what this is all about?”

“ Grand theft auto.” The kid pointed his trigger finger at the Volvo.

“ You’re kidding?” Coffee said. He couldn’t believe the coward from last night had screwed up enough courage to call the police.

“ Mr. Chase reported it stolen less than an hour ago. Said you abducted him and his wife at gunpoint and stole the car. That was pretty stupid of you telling him your name.”

“ Even stupider parking it right outside my room, wouldn’t you say?”

“ Yeah,” the kid said, “even stupider.”

“ Hard to piss with these things on,” Coffee said, changing the subject. There was no sense protesting his innocence any further. This small town cop had him and wasn’t about to let him go.

“ You’ll have to hold it till we get to the station.”

“ Got a bad prostate. When I gotta go, I gotta go.”

“ Why don’t you take the cuffs off and let him go to the bathroom, Harrison?” Sarah Sadler said. She was standing in the doorway with her hair mussed, like she’d just gotten out of bed.

“ Miss Sadler, I mean Mrs. Chase, what are you doing here?”

“ It’s Miss Sadler, Harrison, and what I’m doing is minding my own business, which is more that I can say for you.”

“ Your husband said-”

“ I heard what he said,” she cut him off, “but I suppose he had to say that if he wanted you to come looking for us.”

“ I don’t get it,” the cop said.

“ Let me try and make it clear,” she said. “If Miles would have called the station and said something like, ‘Hey, Harrison, my new wife is shacked up over at the Pine Tree and I want you to go and drag her back to me,’ would you be here now?”

“ No, ma’am.” Harrison looked embarrassed. Then he turned to Coffee, “Why didn’t you tell us you were with the lady?”

“ A gentleman doesn’t tell,” Coffee said.

“ What about the car? The car’s still stole,” Marty said.

“ That’s a fact. We still got a stolen car,” Harrison said.

“ Harrison Harpine, I think your boy is smarter than you. How can I steal my own car?”

“ It’s Miles’ car, everybody knows it.”

“ So if you drive your wife’s Buick to the store you could be arrested for stealing it?”

“ I getcha,” he said, but he didn’t look convinced.

“ The cuffs,” Coffee said, “I really do gotta piss.”

“ Hold on a minute while I try and figure this out,” Harrison Harpine said.

“ Harrison, if I tell you why I’m here, with him, and not at home with my husband will you take the cuffs off?”

“ Maybe.”

“ You have to promise to keep it a secret. I don’t want it blabbed all over town.”

“ I’m a cop. You can trust me,” he said, leaning in to her.

“ Send him away,” she said, looking at the kid.

“ Marty, you can go now. I can handle this.”

“ Harrison, that’s not fair.”

“ You can go, I’ll see you back at the station.”

The kid turned and stomped to his cruiser. He gunned it in protest as he shot out of the parking lot, and as soon as the car was out of sight, Harrison Harpine turned to Sarah Sadler.

“ You’re not gonna tell?” she said, knowing he would.

“ You have my word.”

“ Miles is gay.”

“ Holy shit. No.”

“ And he dresses up in my clothes.”

“ No swinging shit. You’re not shitting me?”

“ No, Harrison, I’m not shitting you. And he wanted me to watch while he did it with other men. So you can understand why I’ll be getting a divorce right away.”

“ Oh yes, ma’am.”

“ Cuffs,” Coffee said to the cop. He turned his back and the policeman released him from the handcuffs.

“ Sorry about that. Just doing my job,” Harrison said.

“ I understand.”

The cop turned back to Sarah, “Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?”

“ Just that if you see him over in Palma, could you kind of watch him? I’m afraid of him. You know what I mean?”

Coffee had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

“ Ma’am, if he even thinks about coming into our town, I’ll run him back across the way quicker than you can wink.”

“ Can you do me one small favor?” She asked the cop.

“ Anything.”

“ Can you follow me home and make arrangements for the Volvo to be delivered to Miles. I don’t ever want to see him again.”

“ Yes, ma’am. We can go just as soon as you’re ready.”

“ I’ll only be a minute.” She went back inside the motel room, leaving Coffee with the cop.

“ What happened to your face?” Harrison asked.