Undying Rage Nightclub

  Late Friday Evening (close to midnight)

  Rachel tosses her hair over one shoulder almost at the same moment that James enters the club. She glances up, catching the solemn detective's eye. Detective Mackey politely chin cants and approaches the bar. Rachel shifts uneasily, placing a thick section of hair behind her left ear.

  "Hello, Detective Mackey. Another round of orange juice?" Rachel asks, forcing a thin smile.

  "Sure," James says, studying Rachel's face very closely.

  Rachel moves away from the counter, grabbing up a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice from the mini fridge. She pours a small glass of OJ and replaces the pitcher in the fridge. Turning to Detective Mackey, she makes her way back to the bar. She sets the full glass down and smiles up at her new friend.

  "It's on the house," Rachel whispers. "Other than you...Not too many people are looking for orange juice in a place like this. You said you'd be coming by. So...I made sure we had some fresh."

  "Thanks," James says, taking a tiny sip of his orange juice.

  Despite the slightly different styling of her hair, and a light application of makeup, the bruise beside Rachel's right eye is very noticeable. James squints in the dim light, observing the split in the center of Rachel's bottom lip as well. The dark red lipstick she wears can only do so much.

  "Is everything okay at home, Rachel?" James asks, narrowing his eyes further. "Who hit you?"

  "What?" Rachel whispers hoarsely. "What do you mean...?"

  "I can see the bruise on the side of your right temple, Rachel. And the cut on your lip. Who did it? And does it have anything to do with...With the case I'm working on? Why were you so anxious last night? Are you covering for someone, Rachel?"

  "No. I mean...No, it has absolutely nothing to do with your case, Detective Mackey. I swear."

  Detective Mackey reaches forward and gently takes Rachel's face in his left hand. He tilts her head in order to more closely inspect her head injury. He repeats his former question in a soft, reassuring voice.

  "Who hit you, Rachel? And why? It can't be a coincidence. I don't believe in them. Not really. Coincidences are just events we haven't quite pieced together yet. In the end, the dots always connect. Who hit you?"

  Rachel hesitates yet again, her eyes riveted to Detective Mackey's face. Swallowing hard, she briefly averts her eyes.

  "Ned. My boyfriend. He...Uh. He was drunk this afternoon. He figured out that I had seen something. Um...He got really angry. And he hit me. I...I don't think it has a connection to your case."

  "You don't think? But you're not sure?" Mackey asks, releasing Rachel and staring deep into her eyes.

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  "No. No, I'm not," Rachel admits, dropping her head and struggling to hold back tears. "Excuse me. Please."

  Rachel swiftly moves away from the bar. Detective Mackey becomes alarmed, believing he has lost a very promising witness.

  "Rachel, wait..."

  "I'll be right back, Detective. Just...Just give me a minute. Please. I need a minute."

  Rachel hurries from the room. Detective Mackey watches her go with sorrow filled eyes. After a few minutes, Rachel reappears, her teal jogging suit jacket slung over one arm. She peers furtively around, but no club patrons are anywhere near the bar.

  Leaning onto the counter, Rachel places her right hand and the teal jogging jacket onto the bar. She whispers so that only James can hear.

  "Just go with it. I have something for you."

  Kissing James on the cheek, Rachel cups his face with her left hand. Simultaneously, she slides her right hand and the teal jacket over James' left hand. While her hand is underneath the jacket, Rachel passes the detective a small microSD adapter. James takes the adapter as Rachel slowly draws back from him. She nods almost imperceptibly and motions upwards with her eyes.

  "The cameras. Of course," James thinks to himself. "She's trying to avoid the damned cameras."

  "Don't worry. These cameras don't have audio. At least, they didn't. I'm not exactly sure what you have there, Detective," Rachel whispers. "But I'm almost certain there's a crime happening there somewhere. He doesn't know I made a copy. He wasn't home at the time. I recorded part of it on my phone. I hope it's not illegal to do that. I just...Her face isn't onscreen for very long. Not during the short snippet I managed to record. I got a weak stomach and had to stop. The woman in the video is wearing an awful lot of makeup, James. She's dressed up like some old-fashioned marionette or a pin-up doll. But I'm sure I've seen the woman before. Very recently. I just can't place her. What he has her doing...It doesn't look consensual. I should know. He's done it to me. Without my consent."

  James studies Rachel's face for easily the tenth time that evening. He offers her a warm smile, and addresses her, remembering to keep his voice low.

  "You're a very brave woman, Rachel. I want you to know that."

  "No, I'm not. I'm scared as hell," Rachel counters, with a grimace. "I love Ned. I don't want to hurt him. Not the way he's hurt me. But, something about...How he's been behaving lately...Just isn't right. And this video. That woman? I don't know why I'm trusting you with it? But...I do trust you, Detective Mackey. I know that if you could've saved Karine...You would've. You're a good man. I can see that. You don't judge people the way most people do. In your eyes...And in your hands...Justice is blind and fair. I wish more people were like you. I want justice for Evelyn...And that cop woman...And whoever is on that tape. I trust you can do that for me. And for yourself."

  "I'll do my best, Rachel. You have my word," James says, his heart hammering in his chest.

  "I know you will. Otherwise, I wouldn't have given you...What I did."

  Rachel stops talking as she notices two drunken people stumbling towards the bar. A man and a woman. They reach the bar and the man practically collapses on the counter. The drunk woman laughs and slaps the top of the bar.

  "Give me another shot of vodka, Honey. I need one more for the road," drunken lady slurs.

  "Sorry, Ma'am. You've reached your limit for the night. I have to ask you to leave," Rachel says.

  "My limit?" the drunk woman screeches. "You ain't seen my limit. Haha. Girl, I can out drink any person in this sleepy joint. Ha. My limit? Pour me a drink, Sweetie."

  "No! I'm gonna have to ask you...And your partner to leave. Now!"

  Drunken man lifts his head drowsily, slurring his words and looking around.

  "What did I do? I was only taking a nap. Send her out. I'm not doing nothing."

  "What? Are you shudding me, Ernie?!" drunken lady screams.

  "You're the one screaming like a crazy banshee," Ernie says. "I just wanna rest my head, Norma. By the way, will somebody call me an Uber? I don't think I'm safe to drive."

  "I know you're not," James says, with a smirk. "I'll call them. What's the address?"