The Shack: The Guardians

Four weeks later, just as I almost convinced myself that I had read more into her than was there, Danni showed up at my apartment after the Saturday shift. She'd brought an overnight bag this time, but still insisted on wearing the same lavalava as a sarong down to lunch on Sunday. After that, she came over nearly after nearly every Saturday shift, staying until Monday morning every time.

Despite her repeated insistence that she didn't want a relationship, it felt more and more like one every day we spent together. I finally talked her into a Wednesday date, so we could go to a really nice steak house that was closed on Sundays.

Even though my F150 wasn't exactly a limousine, it was a better choice than her little convertible -- the only way I'd be comfortable in that would be to keep the top off the whole time -- so I picked her up at a her apartment.

Her place didn't have the security door like mine, so I was able to just head on up.

My suit was an almost perfect match for her little black dress.

I gave her a gentle kiss. "You look beautiful."

She smiled, a soft, almost embarrassed smile. "You clean up pretty nice yourself. You had to get that suit tailored, didn't you?"

"Can't exactly buy them off the rack in my size, at least not without a lot of tweaking. A guy has to have a least one good suit for weddings and funerals."

"And good steakhouses. Hold on, I need to get my wrap, it's a bit cooler than I expected."

I glanced around, trying not to be obvious. The apartment was smaller than mine, but very neatly kept, with lots of pictures. I crossed over to look at a couple.

Her father was immediately noticeable. She'd described his scars as impressive, but that was a huge understatement. The side of his face was a mass of angry scars, his eye clouded over and his mouth on that side twisted into an evil grin. I could see why prom had been problematic.

Next to him in the picture was a woman who was obviously Danni's mother. She was clearly an older version of Danni. Tall, and still attractive, but something about her seemed odd, hard. Her smile didn't seem to reach her eyes and she seemed to have a core of stone.

I glanced at the pictures on the nearest wall. More family pictures with her brothers, both in uniforms -- one a Marine, the other wearing the tan beret of an Army Ranger.

Then there was the last picture on the wall. Danni and a blonde woman, wearing matching sarongs, with their arms draped across each other's shoulders; each holding some kind of tropical drink up to the camera. I blinked and almost shook my head to clear it. The blonde woman wasn't just beautiful, she seemed unreal, as if she couldn't really exist.

I heard a snicker behind me and pulled away from the picture to look back at Danni, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"That's my best friend, Angel. Her real name is Zascha, but nobody calls her that."

"She's, uh..." I could hear my own voice trail off and feel myself flush with embarrassment.

"Yes, she is, and it's a lot worse in person. You never get used to it." She paused, looking fondly at the picture. "Funny thing is, she's about as down to earth as you'll ever meet. A great friend, and about as dedicated a mom and wife as you'll ever meet. She puts everything into her family and friends. She'd do anything for them. I think she'll approve of you."

That last bit jolted me -- she was talking as if we had a real, long term future. Something she'd been clear would never happen. That jolt helped me clear the afterimages of "Angel" from my brain.

She noticed my mood over dinner. "What are you thinking about?"

No time like the present. "You're not secretly married are you?"

"No. Why..."

"A boyfriend I don't know about?"

"No..." She seemed suddenly nervous. Danni was smart enough to know where this might be heading.

"Then can we at least consider the possibility of something serious in the future?"

I think she seriously considered the possibility of running for the door.

"Derek, it's kind of complicated. It may be a long time before I can commit to a long term relationship."

"Then how about if we talk about it after I pass the Bar and you get your Masters?"

She seemed relieved. "I guess that could work."

So, without any fanfare, Danni basically agreed to a long term relationship. She started to come over after my Friday shift as well, though she was still exactly the same PeeGee on the dance floor as ever. I was starting to think that she just got high on dancing, since she never used anything when we were together.

###

Everything seemed pretty smooth, sometimes life is like that. Until Abby just didn't show up after Spring Break. Not for class, not for study group session. Nothing. We knew she'd planned to run up north to see her mom over the break, but we'd been expecting her back on Tuesday and she just didn't show.

Four days passed with no word from Abby, no answer on her phone or at her apartment and nobody knowing why she wasn't in class.

I was wondering if she'd finally cracked under the pressure and had just decided to file a police report when Vince hunted me down at work on Friday night.

###

"Hey, Derek."

Vince was waving at me over the crowd. Even him being here was a bit odd. He preferred smaller clubs with less ear-punishing sound systems. Besides, Vince, Abby and Jennifer all felt uncomfortable partying where I worked. It was a little weird.

He looked serious as hell, clearly stressed and exhausted, which was particularly disturbing since Vince was never serious. Then I noticed Jennifer trailing him, and she'd obviously been crying. This was no social visit.

I pointed over to the club office. "In there."

The office door cut the pounding sound of the music off abruptly. It was s little oversize for an office, it'd been the testing room when the club was a brewery. It looked a little odd with only a metal desk and couple chairs in it.

"Abby's in the hospital."

"What happened?"

"She was found drugged and unconscious over in a back storeroom at Morado Sky. She didn't have any identification so it took them a while to figure out who she was."

I closed my eyes for a second. "Was she... assaulted?" I couldn't bring myself to say "rape." I knew what the answer was going to be, and gripped the back of the office chair to steady myself.

"There was some... tearing. She had to go into surgery."

I felt a crackle of rage slide up my spine. Vince and Jennifer hastily stepped back with wide eyes. It took a second for me to realize I'd snapped the headrest of the chair off and was holding it my hand.

I took a deep breath. "Do they have any idea who did it?"

Vince shook his head, looking down at the floor. "She hasn't really been coherent yet. And I overheard one of the doctors tell a detective that with the amount of drugs in her system, she probably won't remember anything."

###

Danni caught me at the door. "Where you going?"

"Sorry, leaving early. I have a friend who got... hurt."

"Will he be okay?"

"She's a she. Abby, the girl from my study group. Somebody roofied her."

She knew what that meant as well as anyone, and a concerned look crossed her face. She shook her head and took the proffered shirt, a little of her spark diminished.

"That's been happening a lot lately. Where at?"

"The Morado."

"They never have enough guys on security there."

"They'd better hope I never catch them doing that here. They'll be lucky to end up in the hospital."

She reached up and softly touched my arm. "Sorry about your friend, Derek. You do a lot here to make sure girls are safe. You can't be everywhere. Just... keep your head, okay?"

"Thanks Danni. I'll try."

I walked out feeling a little better, although a degree better than shitty isn't that great.

#####

Abby lay in her bed, pale and drawn, her mom sitting next to her. Abby kept twitching sporadically at the IV in the back of her hand. She'd put me on her visitor list, but she hadn't been able to make eye contact with me since I'd come in. Even after a week of my visits she couldn't, she just kept staring at her own feet under the blanket.

"I'll be okay Derek. I don't need anything. It'll just take a little time." Her voice was dull and toneless. She was lying and I knew it.

Her mom and I locked eyes and I could see she knew it too. She had a look of desperation and pain that I can only think a mom could ever get.

Abby missed our wordless exchange and kept talking. "I'll just be in here a couple more days. I'm finishing the program. I'll be Fine."

I'd never claim to be an expert on women, but I flinched when she used the "F-word."

I looked back to her mom. "How long are you going to be here?"

"A week. I can't stay out of work much longer than that. I used almost all my leave last year when her father got sick." She looked like she was about to break down. Losing her husband had obviously been hard on her, and now this.

"Jennifer said she'll stay with her. Vince or I will sleep on her couch if Jennifer is away."

Abby started to object, but I put on my "bouncer face" and shook my head at her. "No arguments Abby, or I'll just sleep curled up in front of your door, like a really big dog." Even she gave a hint of a smile at that, letting her eyes flicker up to me, just for a second.

When she finally fell back asleep, her mom stepped out of the room with me. "Thank you. The three of you have been godsends."

"She'd do the same for any of us. If it wasn't for her, I don't think Vince would have made it through the program."

"He said that. He kind of likes her doesn't he?"

"More than 'kind of.'"

"I think she likes him too." She paused, looking up at me. "Maybe more than 'kind of.'" It took me a second to realize that she was trying to figure out if that was a problem.

"I'm glad to hear that. I'll bet Vince would be even happier to hear it."

"I don't know if she can... think along those lines right now."

"I think he'd be happy if she just lets him be here for her, at least for now."

She nodded grimly. "They don't think she will remember any of it. There was just too much of that stuff in her system."

"I'm no psychiatrist but I'm not sure if maybe that isn't for the best."

"Just knowing it happened, though. It's been hard on her. She's a fighter; tough, always the first to stand up and face things. Always has been. This makes her feel weak and helpless. She isn't taking it well."

I could see that too. "Is she seeing the counselor yet?"

The university was providing a counselor, even though everything had happened off-campus, but Abby had been resisting talking to her.

"Starting tomorrow. She promised. The woman from that special investigators office talked her into it yesterday."

"Not one of the city police?"

"I don't think so. Came in right after you left yesterday. She said she was with a State drug task force of some kind. I think she's seen a lot of this before."

"I guess they would."

She studied the floor for a minute. "Abby's a little worried about you, Derek."

"Why would she be worried about me?"

"She says she knows you're going to go after them."

I thought I'd been hiding that better. "I have no idea who they are."

That was an outright lie. The informal network of bouncers and club security had already narrowed it down, although it was going to be problematic.

"Bullshit Derek. I'm not even that blind and I don't know you near as well as Abby. You're going to dig and dig until you find them. And then... Jennifer told me about that chair."

I tried to shrug casually, but I knew it didn't come off quite right. "Nobody gets to do things like this to my friends. But I'll try to just give them to the police."

She eyed me warily. "Do more than try Derek. Abby would never forgive herself if you got into trouble over looking for revenge for her."

"Justice. Not revenge. And I'll keep out of trouble."

************

I'd already figured out more or less what had happened, even if Abby couldn't remember any of it. Any halfway decent cop could have figured it out easily. I still had a lot of friends at the department and the informal network of club bouncers and security was more than willing to help. This hit us all.

Abby had gotten back into town a little late on Monday, a little later than she'd planned. Apparently, she decided to grab a bite at the Morado. Unlike the Crimson, they actually had a full grill and were known to fix a pretty good -- and inexpensive -- plate of tapas. Abby had a weakness for them, and it certainly wasn't the first time she'd grabbed a quick bite there. Especially since she had to pass right by the Morado on her way into town.

I'd already been over to the Morado and looked over a copy of the video footage. While it wasn't enough for to prosecute, it was pretty clear that three guys in their 20s had been hovering around Abby while she'd been eating. At one point, all three of them had kind of circled her table to talk her up before she ran them off. There was no way to see it on the video, not with them around her, but one of them must have spiked her drink then, because it was shortly after that she began to look unsteady. Since she'd only had a lime water to drink, it had to be the drugs. A mix, Kelly had told me, of Rohypnol and GHB.

They must have caught her when she tried to go back to the bathroom. The video camera in that hallway was on an open mount and had been knocked sideways from underneath at some point that evening and only showed the wall. A stolen key card had been used to access the store room.

They were smart enough to use condoms and it was obvious that they'd planned the whole thing. Maybe not for Abby specifically, but they'd certainly planned to do this to someone. And there were rumors that something similar had happened at a couple other clubs, although the victims hadn't been so badly injured.

It all felt "off." The assholes that use the shit usually try to get the girls out of the clubs where the chances of discovery are lower, where a wandering bouncer isn't likely to intervene or call the police. From the hospital reports it looked like Abby had been hurt on purpose, while she was unconscious.

The real problem was the "who"; the video wasn't clear, but the clothing and the mannerisms looked all too familiar.

Anthony Montagne had a nephew, a weasel of a kid named Joe Dunham -- he called himself "Joey D." I'd never had a real run-in with him, but some of the other guys had -- usually their cars got vandalized shortly after. The self-important prick thought he was Eminem; copied his hair, clothes, accent, everything. He invariably had two sycophants hanging off of him, I never bother to learn their names. I just thought of them as Thing One and Thing Two.

They generally sat around, offending anyone in earshot and bragging about "getting more ass than a toilet seat" and spending a lot of money. From everything I'd heard, Joey D was generally useless to Tony Montana, but his wife loved the shithead and pressured Tony into giving him a paycheck and a "job."

It wasn't real clear what the "job" was, and most of us thought he probably mostly paid Joey to stay out of his hair.

The police pulled them in and questioned them, of course, but there just wasn't any hard evidence, nothing they could really use.

I wasn't really looking for a conviction in a court of law though, I was just looking for an opportunity to balance the scales a bit. All I really needed was time and a little carelessness on their part.

###

I ended up waiting a little longer than I expected. After they were questioned, Joey and his pals laid off the clubs for a bit. They probably made the natural assumption that the undermanned and overstretched police force would use their limited manpower to put a surveillance detail on them. It's only a natural assumption if you are both guilty and egotistical enough to assume everyone's priority revolves around you. It also probably doesn't hurt to be toking so much weed people are paranoid for five city blocks around you.

I know I was on edge; I'd always liked fishing, but not traditional fishing, I really didn't have that much patience. I preferred spear fishing, where I could go plaster a fish whether it was hungry or not. Danni handled it just fine. Not only did she put up with my dark moodiness; she managed to blunt those moods. One time she asked me to pick her up at the dance studio where she taught, on a Tuesday so we could go out to eat. That, was a bit unusual, since between my classes, her classes and the dance classes she taught, we almost never saw each other during the week.

"Mandy's Dancers and Dreamers" was a nice place, in a second floor walk-up with a tall, industrial ceiling and lots of windows. It was absolutely packed with what looked like every five-year old girl in the city, all in neat groups, all wearing pink leotards with purple sleeves, looking for all the world like a roomful of orchids. The instructors, one of them Danni, were all in matching leotards -- purple with pink sleeves. They were drifting around their classes, making little corrections. Danni shot me a little smile, but kept moving from one little girl to the next.

A slightly harried-looking, middle-aged woman strode toward me, stopping nearly at my feet.

"Wow. She said you were big." She looked me over, appraising me like a farmer looking over a bull. "I can see why Danni didn't want you coming by during the day classes. All aerobic exercise and Latin dance classes. Nothing but cougars in those, you'd have been lucky to escape with your life. I'm Amanda, by the way."

"Derek. Nice to meet you."

"You're about 15 minutes early, you can either wait here or in the parent's pick up area -- she gestured to a doorway next to a mirrored wall. We keep the parents penned up in there so they can watch their kids through the one way mirror without being distractions."

I agreed to lean against the wall and watch. Even compared to the other instructors, Danni's grace and balance stood out as she led her little orchids through their steps. I decided I could just watch her move all day, her easy flowing motions were hypnotic, and gravity simply didn't seem to have any hold on her at all.

When the class finally ended, the instructors began neatly sending their students into the parents waiting area, each child checked off on a list by Amanda as she was passed to her parent. One of Danni's little charges veered away from the line and stood staring up at me.

"Are you an ogre? Like Shrek?"

Danni came up behind her. "Carli, this is my boyfriend."

Carli turned towards Danni, wide-eyed. "Your boyfriend is an ogre?"

I couldn't help it, breaking out laughing while Danni tried, unsuccessfully, to convince the concerned little girl that I wasn't an ogre.

I crouched down. "Ogres can be really good boyfriends. Watch."

I stood up and stepped over behind Danni. Sensing what was coming, she tried not to smile but wasn't very successful. I hoisted her easily to my shoulder. "See, she gets to ride everywhere she wants like this."

Carli immediately decided that maybe ogre boyfriends weren't the worst idea in the world. We chatted for a while and I pretended to forget Danni was on my shoulder, looking around to find her, much to Carli's squealing amusement.

Later, as we ate, I asked Danni about her job. She'd only ever talked about it in generalities. "What's your favorite part of it?"

"The kids. The parents will drive you crazy, but the kids are amazing. Everything they learn is a whole new world for them, there's a sense of wonder to them, especially at first."

"That's the best part about kids. I must have spent thousands of hours babysitting my cousins. At first it was annoying, but later you realize how great their world is. Like Carli, when she went left, she was telling her mom how she met a real ogre and he didn't eat anyone."