Rogue Alliance

NINE



Shyla woke up in the dark of the night with a pounding headache. After her evening at Hal’s she’d driven straight home and taken three good slugs straight from the bottle. The musky contents had made her eyes water and her chest burn, but quieted the anxiety that had been building ever since the first moment she’d met Shawn and Jason.

Though she’d handled the meeting well and Hal had given her a fatherly look of approval, she’d been a wreck on the inside. That feeling, a loathsome sensation of being out of control, had her angry at herself. She was always in control when it came to her job. It was one of the traits which made her such a good detective. But ever since she’d driven over the Redding City limits, she’d been a goddamn internal mess.

Then there were the dreams. They were coming more and more often. As she’d driven home, she’d decided that she needed a night without them. She figured if she drank enough, maybe she could silence her brain long enough to have at least one merciful night free of torment.

If she’d dreamed, she didn’t recall the content. But the physical torment she woke to was almost as unbearable. She felt queasy. Her head was pounding and her mouth was dry. She glanced at the clock. Midnight. She hadn’t even made it halfway through the night. It was going to be a long one.

She rolled out of bed still half-drunk and fumbled through her bathroom medicine cabinet. Tampons, Neosporin, Isopropyl alcohol, Maalox, and a bottle of eye cream she rarely ever used. No aspirin. Damn.

Rinsing her mouth out, Shyla caught a glimpse of the pint-sized Cuervo bottle she’d been drinking from in the reflection of her mirror. It looked guilty, sitting there on her night stand with only a few sips left in the bottom. She spit into the sink then turned and stared it down. Bile rose in her throat and she decided she wouldn’t be able to drink herself back to sleep.

She wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and trudged out to the living room. She plopped on the couch and prayed she’d be able to get back to sleep. Twenty minutes later, her headache was full throttle. There was no way she was going to get any rest if she didn’t get her hands on a bottle of aspirin.

Resigned, she pulled on her sweatpants, pulled a baseball cap over her head and threaded her hair through the back. Then she slipped on runners and stepped outside. The night air was crisp but not too cold yet. If she’d have felt better she would have inhaled it deeply, but the only thing on her mind was getting to the Walgreens five blocks down.

The fluorescent lights inside seemed to exacerbate the rhythmic thrum of the migraine. She squinted against the light, pulled her cap lower and concentrated on not throwing up.

Instinct told her to go to the far back corner of the store, next to the pharmacy. She spotted the signs hanging above each aisle and confirmed that pain meds would be on aisle 14. The store appeared empty, other than the bored clerk at the register. She should be in and out.

As she passed aisle 12, she caught something out of the corner of her eye. She glanced over and spotted the side profile of plump girl, who looked to be about fifteen or so, staring at the make-up selection. Shyla made note but kept walking eager to get out of the store and back into the sanctuary of her dark apartment.

As she scanned the vast variety of pain meds, her cop brain kicked into gear and she started thinking that the girl looked highly suspicious. She had an over-sized, canvas satchel slung over her shoulder. And it seemed an odd time of night to be shopping for lip gloss and mascara.

Shyla warned herself not to get involved. She was a secretary now. Besides, Walgreens’ were riddled with video cameras right? If the girl stole anything, she’d be caught.

Still, she couldn’t help herself. She slowly reviewed the selections of generic and name brand aspirins but kept an eye at the slanted mirror which bordered the entire length of the ceiling. Sure as shit, she watched the girl slip three different items into her bag then head toward the front of the store.

Shyla hesitated for a second. She knew the girl would likely pay for an item then try to sneak out the front door with the rest in her bag. The woman at the counter couldn’t give a rip.

Shyla stepped up to the register and paid for her bottle of aspirin. She walked out the front door and slipped around the corner out of the vision of the camera. There were no cars in the lot. The girl had probably walked. The other side of the building was directly next to the side of steep hill. The only way for the girl to go was around the corner and then up the sidewalk.

Shyla’s head pulsated as her pulse quickened. Why the hell was she worrying about a punk teenage kid stealing some make-up?

When the girl walked out, Shyla reached out and snagged her by the arm. The girl gave a pathetic squeal and tried to break free. Shyla tightened her grip and firmly pressed the girl up against the brick wall.

The girl’s eyes widened.

“Let me go or I’ll scream right now,” she said, “let me go.”

“Go, ahead. Scream. The cops will come and see that I’ve just caught someone stealing.”

The girl stopped squirming. Her eyes darted around and her chest heaved up and down. Shyla could feel her fear.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t steal nothin’.”

“The hell you didn’t. I saw you put at least three items in your purse on aisle 12. All we have to do is go inside and ask to see the video footage. They may not look at their footage much in a town like this, but trust me, it’ll be there if we ask.”

The girl panicked and put all of her strength into trying to free herself from Shyla’s grip. She grunted and strained. Shyla was surprised at how strong the girl was. But she held firm and shoved her back against the wall.

“Jesus, okay, okay. I stole the damn make-up. What do you want from me? You want me to give it back? Fine. I’ll give it back.”

Shyla held tight.

“I just want to talk to you for second, okay. If I let go, I don’t want you to run off. I’ll catch you again before you hit the sidewalk. You understand?”

The girl glanced toward the sidewalk and back again, clearly thinking over her options.

“I understand,” she said.

Shyla slowly loosened her grip. When she was sure the girl wasn’t going to try to bolt she stepped a half a step back and took a closer look. She had on thick, dark eye make-up and pink blush on her round cheeks. Her lips were painted dark red and set in a frown. She was much younger than Shyla had initially guessed - too young to be out in the middle of the night engaging in illegal activities.

“How old are you?” Shyla asked.

“Bite me, lady. I don’t have to tell you shit. If you want me to give back the stuff fine, but I don’t got to tell you nothin’.”

Shyla crossed her arms and stood her ground.

The girl’s frown turned to exasperation.

“Fine,” she said, “I’m thirteen. Who cares? Who in the hell are you?”

“My name’s Shyla. I just moved to town. Well…I lived here a long time ago. But

I just move back this week.”

The girl looked like she couldn’t care less.

“Anyway, I saw you steal that stuff and I thought I’d better warn you against stealing. You might be able to get away with it for a while, but eventually you’ll get caught. When you caught, you’ll go to juvie. The more times you get caught, the more time you’ll earn behind bars. Next thing you know, you’ll have a record and won’t be able to get a job. That means you’ll be hungry and homeless. You want that?”

The girl stared at her, dumbstruck.

“Are you kidding me with this? You’re giving me a lecture on my future. Damn, lady, you are crazy.”

Shyla resisted the urge to giggle. She probably did seem a bit crazy. She probably even looked crazy; all hung-over and in her sweats and ball cap.

“Well, crazy or not, I saw you swipe that stuff. I guess I don’t expect you to take it back. I don’t want to cause a big scene and have the cops out here but I better not catch you stealing again. I live close by and believe me I can smell theft from a mile away. Now go home. It’s late.”

Shyla stepped back to let the girl pass freely. The girl gave a cautious look. “You’re going to let me keep the stuff. All this was just for a warning. Wow, lady, you are nuts.”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Suit yourself. See ya around,” she said, sauntering off.

Shyla watched her go and figured she’d be swiping from the Dollar store on the other side of town or at her closest mini-mart by tomorrow.

She realized her queasy stomach had settled and her headache was now a dull drone. Maybe the combination of fresh air and mild excitement had done her system good.