Chapter 1
It was nearly 3 AM. The bar rush was over, and the night was quiet. Almost all of the UW Madison students were home in their dorms or apartments. Only one or two could be seen wandering along Fraternity Row on Landon St.
In another 15 minutes, Mickie could head back to the office to check in. Dispatch made another announcement about the Red Top Taxi that had gone missing earlier. They had been announcing it every half hour since around 6:30 PM, but no one had seen it, yet.
“Once again, Madtowners, if you see Red Top #192, please let dispatch know.” James Baker growled over the radio.
Mickie stretched in the driver's seat, and hoped the missing driver was ok. She could see the cab in her mind's eye, parked by the side of a small road. Wait, she knew that road! Why was she imagining it there? She could see it quite clearly. It was dark, no lights on. The road was the one that ran along the north edge of the trailer park on the south side, the one referred to in Cabspeak as “South in the Flowers.”
“This is nuts!” she said to herself. “What would it be doing there?”
She had an urge to drive down there and look.
“No way! I'm less than ten minutes from check in. I do not want to drive all the way from Lake and Langdon to the south side at this hour!”
“Mrrp?” came a sound from her cab bag, strapped to the front seat beside her. Emily's grey furry nose and ears poked out from under her towel. “What's this? You have a vision?” the cat spoke in Mickie's head.
“No, it is not a vision! I refuse to have a vision now!” Mickie replied. “I want to go home to my nice warm bed, not gallivanting off on some hare brained search for a missing cab!”
“It feels like a vision.” Emily insisted. “You can't ignore that. Bad things happen when you ignore visions.”
A memory of fire flashed in her brain. If only she had heeded that hunch, that vision, Ivan might still be with her.
“But then you wouldn't have me.” Emily purred. “But this vision...”
“Oh, all right! I'll go look.” Mickie grumbled.
She started the 1981 Dodge Diplomat ex police cruiser that was her assigned cab, #16. She turned on the headlights, and pulled out of the taxi stand. This was going to be a waste of time. She should just go back to the office.
She drove all the way down Park St to the last light before the Beltline. At this hour nearly all of the traffic lights were flashing, so she didn't have to stop at more than two of them.
She turned left onto Badger Rd. There wouldn't be anything there. She had to be imagining this. Gaah! She hated having these visions!
Left on Rusk, left on Nygaard, left on the access road to the trailer park (a collection of potholes referred to as the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Cabspeak), left again onto Honeysuckle Lane.
“Oh, crap!”
There it was, facing her, half off the road into the trees on the downhill side. Mickie drove slowly up to it, and past it. The number #192 and the Red Top Cab logo and phone number were clearly visible on the fender. The door lock buttons were down, there appeared to be no one in the cab. She drove up to the next driveway, turned around, and parked a couple lengths behind the empty cab.
Picking up her radio mike, she keyed it and said, “16.”
“Go ahead, 16.” Came the response.
“Um, I found cab #192.”
“What? Where are you?”
Mickie rattled off the location.
“Is the driver there?”
“I don't see anyone.” Mickie said.
“Hold on.” Said James. “I'm calling MPD.”
“10-4.” Mickie replied.
A moment later James spoke again. “Stay put, 16, the cops want to talk to you.”
“10-4, but I'm locking my doors.”
“They said they'd be there in five. Let me know!” James said.
“10-4” Mickie repeated.
She looked around at the empty road, and into the dark trees to the right. Nothing moved that she could see. She had no desire to get out and look more closely.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
It wasn't even five minutes later when flashing red and blue lights appeared in the rear view mirror.
“16. The cops are here.” Mickie told dispatch.
“Let me know when they're done with you.” James' response came back.
Emily climbed out of her bag and crawled into Mickie's jacket, curling up against her stomach. Mickie closed the jacket over the small grey and white cat, just as a tall cop walked up beside her window. She lowered the window part way.
“You found the cab?” the cop asked, as another walked past and started shining a light into the Red Top vehicle.
“Yeah, I just turned the corner and there it was.”
“You have a call down here?”
“No.”
“You live near here?”
“No.”
“Why were you here?”
“I had a hunch.” Mickie curled down a little in her seat.
“You had a hunch?” The cop sounded suspicious. “Did you see the driver? Did you know her?”
“Her? I didn't even know the driver was a woman.”
“How did you know the cab was here?”
“Like I said, I had a hunch.” Mickie said. “I get those sometimes.”
The cop looked up at the other cab, listening to something the other cop was saying. “Let me see your license.”
She handed it to him. “Stay here.” he said, and walked forward.
Mickie rolled the window back up, and took a deep breath. Emily purred and kneaded under her jacket.
“Don't worry. Keep your shields up. I will protect you.”
“I know you will.” Mickie spoke softly. “But I reserve the right to worry.”
She unzipped her jacket halfway and reached in to stroke Emily's ears. She had no doubt the 8 pound cat would do her level best to destroy anyone or anything that threatened Mickie. Emily was the fiercest being Mickie had ever known, of any species.
Mickie jumped when the cop rapped the window. She rolled it down a bit.
“What have you got in your jacket?” He asked, hand on his gun.
Mickie slowly pulling the jacket open. Emily stuck her head out and hissed at the cop.
“Is that a cat?” The cop asked.
“No, it’s a mountain lion.” Mickie replied sarcastically.
The cop gave a hmph. “Tell me again how you knew the cab was here?”
“Look, I don't know how I knew.” Mickie said in exasperation. “I get hunches about things. I don't know how they work.”
“So you drove down here on a hunch. And you don't know the driver.”
“Yes. And that's all I know.” Mickie replied. “I only know one person who ever worked for Red Top, and that’s because he works for Mad Town now.”
“Did you get out of your cab when you got here?”
“No! I locked my doors and stayed right here after I drove by and turned around.”
Emily growled, and Mickie stroked her again. She wasn't sure who that was calming, herself or the cat. Maybe both.
“And you didn't see anyone? Someone leaving?”
“No, the cab was dark, the lock buttons were down, there was no one around.”
“16?” the cab radio squawked. “16, are you still talking to the cops?”
“I gotta answer that.” Mickie told the cop.
“Go on.” he said, not moving.
Mickie grabbed the mike. “16, yes I'm still talking to the cops.”
“10-4, 16,” James growled. “Just checking in on you.”
“Thanks.” Mickie replied, hanging up the mike.
To the cop, “Can I go now?”
“Which direction did you come from?” the cop asked.
“From the back access, down there.” She pointed towards the road ahead of her. “I drove past, and turned around in the next driveway over there.” She pointed to the driveway in question.”
“All right, I guess you can go.” The cop said, looking at her license as he handed it back to her. “Mikkela Korpi. We can contact you through your company if we need anything else from you.”
The cop walked away, Mickie started the cab, turned on the headlights, and pulled out, driving slowly until she was out of the trailer park. She drove several blocks away, and pulled over and shifted into park.
Emily stood up in her jacket, and put her small paws on Mickie's shoulders, rubbing her face against Mickie's cheek. Mickie wrapped her arms around the cat, shuddering.
“I hate visions!” she told Emily. “I'm not too crazy about cops, either.”
Emily purred in her ear.
After a few minutes, Mickie straightened up. “I better call in and let James know they're done grilling me.”
“Yes, it's not a good idea to let him get too worked up.” Emily said.
Picking up her mike, she keyed it.
“16.”
“Go ahead, 16”
“They cut me loose.”
“Are you ok?” James' gruff voice actually sounded concerned.
“Other than a bad case of the heebie jeebies, yeah.” Mickie replied.
“Get your butt back here to the office!” He barked. “Safely!”
“10-4.” Mickie smiled.
James Baker would never admit it, but behind the growling, gruff face he presented to the world, he cared deeply about all his drivers. Mickie knew he always had her back. Of course, he’d also be the first to tear her a new one if she screwed up.
She drove carefully back uptown and into the near east side. The office was on East Wilson down near the tracks. She gassed up the cab at the single pump, and parked it at the back of the lot. Emily hopped up onto her shoulder as she picked up her bag.
In the dispatch office she pulled the pile of call slips off the hook for #16, replacing it with the cab key.
“So what the hell happened?” James asked, leaning past the partition around the dispatch desk. His beard seemed thicker than usual, but it was new moon. She must be imagining it.
“I had a hunch.” said Mickie.
“A hunch. Uh, huh.” James raised an eyebrow. “Next time you get on of those, you want to tell me before you go haring off?” He said. Switching his gaze to Emily, he growled, “That cat is only 8 pounds, after all.”
Emily yawned.
“I'd really rather I didn't have the damned things at all.” Mickie complained. “Visions are always a pain in the ass.”
“Sometime you'll have to tell me about some of them.” James said. “But meanwhile, when you're done with your waybill, write up a report. That way if the cops come in here with questions later, I can wave it under their noses and tell them not to bother my driver.” He handed her an incident report form.
“Now, I got work to do.”
He keyed the desk mike and started rattling off intersections. “I got calls at Full House Corners, Ingersoll and the Ave, King at the Square, Park and Drake. Go ahead 12.”
Mickie headed out to the driver's room to do her paperwork. It was after 4 AM and there was no one else around, which suited her just fine. She had no desire to explain it all to anyone else tonight. She added up her waybill, stuffed her call slips and cash in an envelope, and dropped it in the slot on the top of the safe. It took her a little longer to fill out the report form. Once done, she took that back to James.
“You need a cab home?” he asked.
“No, thanks, I'll walk it.” Mickie only lived 8 blocks from the office, and usually walked unless the weather was seriously awful. “I want to clear my head.”
“All right,” said James. “Be careful. I don't want to have to train another driver right now.”
“10-4.” she said with a smile, and left the office.