Dawn Patrol

106

Boone can't let go of Teddy D-Cup.

Lying there on the metal bench, his mind keeps going back to Teddy in the motel room with the little mojada girl. Natch you can't let go of it, he tells himself. Face it, you have a serious jones going for pedophiles. Don't let it twist your thinking on this.

Yeah, but it's not, Boone thinks. There's something there, something about the Teddy-Tammy connection that doesn't jive.

Work through it.

Tammy leaves Mick Penner for Teddy. No surprise there-she's trading up, except most of Teddy's strippers work him for some cosmetic work, and Tammy hasn't had a stitch of plastic surgery. Okay, maybe she just didn't want any or they haven't gotten around to it yet.

Mick knows his girl is doing Teddy because he followed them to the cheap motel up near the strawberry fields. Which doesn't make any sense, because Teddy could do his matinees at any upscale hotel in La Jolla, or even at Shrink's, and a girl like Tammy would expect-in fact, insist on- a little luxury.

So why does he take her to the cheap joint all the way up in O'side?

Because it's near the strawberry field where he picks up a little mojada girl. But that doesn't make any sense. You'd think that's the last place he'd take Tammy; you'd think the good doctor would want to keep that little assignation way deep on the down low.

It doesn't make sense on another level: Pedophiles are pedophiles because they like little girls, not grown women. But Teddy is notorious for banging fully grown strippers and got his nickname for giving them big, fully grown, triple-X adult boobs.

Teddy D-Cup likes women.

Yeah, except, you saw him in the room with the child, so…

A guy's staring at him from across the cell. Big guy who looks like he hits the weight room pretty regularly.

“What?” Boone asks.

“You remember me?”

The whole cell is quiet, watching this develop, hoping for a little relief from the mind-numbing monotony of jail.

“No,” Boone says. “Should I?”

“You tossed me out of The Sundowner once.”

“Okay.” Like, big freaking deal, Boone thinks. I've thrown a lot of idiots out of The Sundowner.

The guy gets up and stands over Boone. “But you ain't got your big Samoan buddy or that other guy with you now, do you?”

Boone sort of remembers him now. East County guy who got a turista drunk and was going to take her somewhere for a gang bang. He makes a point of looking around the cell, then says, “No, I don't see either of them here. So?”

“So, I'm going to beat the shit out of you.”

“I don't want any trouble.”

The guy sneers. “I don't give a fuck what you want.”

A biker sitting against the wall asks Boone, “You want us to take care of this?”

“No, but thanks,” Boone says. He's had a bad day, a really bad day that's not going to get any better. He hasn't had any sleep, he's aching and tired and irritable, and now this pumped-up kook is trying to make his day even worse.

“Get up,” the guy says.

“I don't want to.”

“Pussy.”

“Okay, I'm a pussy,” Boone says.

“You're my bitch.”

“If you say so,” Boone says, folding his arms across his chest and closing his eyes. He feels the guy reach out to grab him, flicks his hands out to separate the guy's arms, then knife-edges both his own hands into the guy's neck.

The guy is done now; he just doesn't know it yet. Stunned from the double strike to the carotids, he can't react quickly enough as Boone slides his hands around the back of his neck, holds his head, and brings his knee up three times into his chin. Boone lets go, pushes, and the guy slides to the floor unconscious, blood trickling from his mouth.

Boone lies back down.

There's a short pause; then the tweeker who had offered Boone a bologna sandwich and a blow job scoots over to rob the unconscious man. He reaches inside his shirt and yanks out a small chain with a little crucifix on it, holds it up to Boone, and asks, “You want this?”

Because jailhouse law says it belongs to Boone by right of conquest.

Boone shakes his head.

Thinking, You're an idiot, Daniels.

A total barney.

He gets up from the bench, steps over a few guys to get to the bars, and calls out to the jailer. “Yo, bro! Any word on me getting out of here?”