Every detective has that one case. The circumstance or puzzle that takes them to the edge. Stops them cold or causes them to question the very foundation of their beliefs.
Or, so I’m told. In my case, I had that seminal moment…in other circumstances.
It was the moment the judge banged his gavel and sent me to prison for eighteen months. Could’ve been worse, but my partner did me a solid and found his way to being dead. I didn’t want it for him, naturally. But, without a trustworthy witness – as far as could be proven to a jury – the prosecution had to drop the worst of the charges.
A few years later, I walked into the La Seine dining club – the one with the speakeasy in the back. I didn’t care for the place, at least not the way my partner Frank did. Our lying client gave us the lowdown on his casino boat plan.
And I got a whiff of how deep the stench of crime infected this place. LA, like Chicago, was sick to its very marrow.
But I must be going soft – in the head more than anywhere else. I decided after paying for the last ‘good deed’ I’d done, I wouldn’t stick my neck out for anyone else. Least of all where the mafia was concerned. I’m not interested in going back to prison. And I sure as hell ain’t ready to check out on any sort of permanent basis.
And still I can’t help but think, or even dare I say ‘hope’ – since almost the moment I walked into the La Seine…there may still be something worth fighting for in this poisonous town.
Or rather, someone.
How did Dash and Angela meet? Find out in Vengefully Yours.
Coming Soon: The Tell, A Dawn at La Seine side story.