When Zoe came back out from the bedroom, she looked both like an elegant queen of the silver screen, and at the same time, like a sultry sex goddess ready to eat a man’s soul. She wore a skin-tight tube style velvet black dress, elegant black pantyhose that drew attention to her long legs and a pair of risky spike-heeled platform pump shoes. Her hair was now down, but at the same time teased higher and slightly curled, and it seemed to spill all around her head and shoulders like the sun breaking over a horizon at dawn. She had a strange mix of glamour and sleaziness about her, as if she were ready to mix but at the same time floating above it all. For a moment, Deacon’s eyes fell on her and his brain glitched, all other thoughts were swept away. Even the other girl, the one that he used to date…the one that dumped him for another guy…what was her name?

“I’m not hiding tonight. Tonight, I’m going out as myself, and damn the consequences.” She announced while sauntering into the room.

“Okay.” Deacon replied. “Can I still be me?” He was intoxicated by whatever perfume she was wearing.

“Of course, you can still be you. Who else would you be? Nobody knows you. The world doesn’t have any expectations of you. I say this in the most positive way that I possibly can, a nobody is always free to be themselves.”

Deacon had shed his leather jacket, and now sat on the couch with a black t-shirt and jeans. He was not an overly large man, but he had a naturally strong frame, his chest and shoulders filled out the shirt making it look smaller on him than it really was. He had also taken off the black leather fingerless driving gloves, exposing the bandages wrapping around his right hand for the first time to the girl.

“What did you do to your hand?” She asked while pointing insistently.

Deacon suddenly regretted the decision to shed the gloves. He did not feel like explaining the wounds again. Besides that, he had not gone back to continue receiving the shots he was supposed to get. Would she be afraid that he would somehow transmit rabies to her? She already seemed to have a low opinion of poor people, the fact that he could genuinely have rabies now seemed the cherry on top of a stupid sundae.

“It’s nothin’.” He tried to downplay the wound, but she was not having it. She quickly crossed the room to take a closer look. She noticed spots of red that had bled through the bandages.

“It looks like it’s still bleeding. Do you need to go to a hospital?”

“Naw, I’ve already been to one…it’s…it’s stupid.”

“What happened? Something embarrassing?” She cocked a perfectly shaped eyebrow his direction.

“I got bit by an animal or something.”

“Bit by an animal? Here in this city? There’re wild animals in the city?”

“No! Well, not really but I guess technically…” Deacon tried to collect his thoughts. That dress that seemed to show off every curve of her body made it harder to do. And that rich girl perfume was what he imagined a fairy queen from outer space would smell like. He didn’t live a life full of pleasant feminine smells like that, between the cab garage and his sad apartment that smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. “Normally there’s not any wild animals in the city, this was something different. Some professor or scientist or something needed a ride to O’Hare, and he had something with him. A cage. I dunno what happened, it got loose in the back seat and bit me.”

“What?” Zoe laughed, but tried to stop herself. It really wasn’t funny, except it kind of was. “Wow, that’s crazy. What was it?”

“I dunno. I’d never seen anything like it. It was like a big black rat, only it wasn’t a rat.”

“Big black rat?” Zoe seemed to contemplate this for a moment, tapping her finger against her full crimson red lips. “Did it make any noises?”

“Yeah, crazy ones. It kinda barked and growled and howled. All at once while it was chewing on my hand.”

Next, Zoe disappeared into the bedroom and came back with a blank piece of stock paper and a charcoal pencil. She sat down at one of the desks and began scribbling with the pencil.

“You can draw?” His curiosity was piqued, and Deacon arose from the couch to watch the young girl as she began to form a picture from the wild scrawling.

“It’s just a hobby.” She huffed a fake laugh distractedly while continuing to scribble.

Finally, she held up the paper and turned it over to him. Deacon’s eyes went wide. It was so lifelike and was exactly what he’d seen that night latched onto his arm.

“Damn! That’s what it was!” His hand went through his long brown hair, pulling it back from his face.

“I thought so.” Zoe crossed her arms with a puffed sense of accomplishment. “I’m pretty good huh?”

“I sure wish you’d been there with me that night, I didn’t know how to describe it. I thought I went crazy, but this is a real thing?”

“Yep. I worked in Australia for a few weeks last year for a photo shoot and I saw one in real life, and if you’re telling the truth, the fact that you saw one in downtown Chicago is remarkable. And probably illegal too.”

“Well? What the hell was it?”

“That, cabbie, is a Tasmanian Devil.”

“A what? Like Bugs Bunny? I thought that was a cartoon.” Deacon’s face screwed up in a comical manner.

“Yeah, there was a cartoon character. But a Tasmanian Devil is a real animal. And it looks like somehow one bit you.”

“Wow.” Deacon looked away out the window for a time, trying to process the information. He really wanted to come back with some witty or poignant observation or conclusion. At least an apathetic retort. He instead mumbled “I wonder how one of those got here from Tasmania.”

He didn’t have any longer to contemplate this great mystery of the unknown, there was a knock at the door then. The concierge had returned from his odyssey. Zoe opened the door, and the concierge clapped his hands before entering. Several bellhops brought in sliding racks of clothing. Deacon didn’t know whether to be dumbfounded by the service, that there were people out there that would drop everything on a dime and rush to a young woman’s beck and call like this, or the fact that it did not seem out of place or even unusual to her.

“You really have people that just hop to and do whatever you want?” He asked incredulously.

“Of course, cabbie. I’m important. Maybe someday you will be important too.”

He watched the bellhops hustle everything inside and then line up to obediently wait for her next command.

“Stand on one leg!” He ordered the nearest one, who simply looked away in response. Deacon frowned, obviously being the young woman’s company did not make him important enough.

Zoe shook her head and thumbed through the clothing racks like Deacon would thumb through the metal section at a record store. She quickly had pulled aside and chosen an outfit that judging by the look on her face, she was extremely satisfied with. She held it up proudly and Deacon made a face like something in the room was rancid.

Deacon changed his clothes in the bathroom and came out a few minutes later feeling silly in his new outfit. He was now wearing a light pair of Bugle Boy jeans, classic black leather belt and a silk metallic dark blue button-down shirt tucked into his jeans. He had not tucked in a button-down shirt since he had attended Catholic elementary school.

“Now we need to pull your hair back.” Zoe stated after looking him over for a time, like he was a dinner plate she had been preparing for some time and was now deciding what other ingredients were needed. “But not the way you were doing before.” She crinkled her cute button nose.

Deacon had been used to just pulling his bangs into a half-ponytail for a long time now. In all honesty, he did not know any other ways or styles his hair could handle. But he figured he would be safe in deferring to her for now for fashion tips. She did say she was in fashion, right? He didn’t know exactly what that meant, but she probably had a better handle on it than he did. He took his black hair tie and pulled all his hair back and squeezed it through into a full ponytail.

Zoe studied him for another moment, and he chafed under her scrutiny. She finally smiled and nodded her approval.

“Yeah, that will work. I overlooked you at first. You could actually be the first GQ cab driver in the world. Not quite Brad Pitt, but definitely a little bit of Christian Slater in there. If you keep your mouth shut, you can pass for a mysterious bad boy.”

“Do I want to be a mysterious bad boy?”

“Yes. You definitely want to be a mysterious bad boy.” Zoe smiled cryptically.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Deacon was no expert in the mysterious ways of women, that was not up for question, but he was now more confused than ever.

The pair headed out of the hotel room soon afterward. The skyscraper that held the hotel was also home to many other shops and restaurants on the lower floors, and they paused to grab a bite to eat before heading back to the club.

* * * *

It was still relatively early in the evening when the pair arrived back at the sprawling gothic club, just a few minutes before ten o’clock. Along the way, he checked in with dispatch and was thankful that it was another slow night, which would afford him more time away from the cab.

Only now that they were back, predictably, the line was now much longer, and wrapping around the building and disappearing down the block. Deacon sighed as he started to lead them towards the end of the line. But it was Zoe who stopped him and began leading the pair back towards the front of the line.

“Let’s do it my way this time. Follow my lead.” Zoe spoke with a hint of slyness in her tone. “Now that I’m not hiding, I’m important again. And important people don’t wait in line.”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“They may let me in now, but I’m pretty sure they’re not going to let us jump everyone else. I guess you want me to beat down and go through those two ogres?”

“Just follow me, cabbie. And keep the eagerness out of your voice, we aren’t fighting tonight.” Zoe spoke over her shoulder from the lead position as they made their way through the various people congregated on the street. It was not a hard thing to do following the young woman in the tight black dress and he marveled at how her body moved and seemed to defy physics as she walked.

“There’s no way you can know that for sure. You aren’t psychic.” He managed to mumble as a reply.

They approached the front of the line and instead of getting dirty looks, which was what Deacon expected, there was a flurry of whispers and pointing in their direction. Zoe paused inside a group of college partiers loitering outside the club when the front entrance was in sight. She turned to address him.

“Now do like this and suck in your cheeks.” Zoe made a sultry pouty face which further accentuated her perfect facial symmetry. She was surprisingly good at the pose, it made her instantly look like a supermodel.

Deacon tried to reproduce the same look on his face.

“No no!” Zoe laughed at his attempt. “You look like a fish. More subtle than that. Pout your lips slightly and suck in your cheeks just a little.”

Deacon tried to follow her directions and was eventually able to reproduce “the model look”.

“Now squint slightly. Pretend you are looking at something in the distance.” Zoe demonstrated. She was making the look that photographers referred to as “making love to the camera”. “And hold your chin higher.”

Deacon was not a model, but he was able to mimic her enough to satisfy the young woman eventually. He felt slightly silly about it though.

“Good. Now just act stupid and don’t say anything. Let me do the talking.” Zoe winked. “And puff your chest out, shoulders back and walk like it hurts.”

Zoe walked straight up to the bouncers while Deacon was running these instructions through his brain. It was a lot to remember. It occupied most of his cognitive functioning to keep up whatever act she wanted him to, but he did notice that the closest people waiting in line were pointing and drawing attention to their presence. They did not seem to be angry at the pair for jumping ahead of them in line, but instead looked excited.

“Is this place any good?” Zoe asked in a bored, disaffected tone while approaching the bouncers.

“It’s one of the best spots in town miss…” The big black man whom a few hours earlier Deacon had nearly come to blows with seemed enchanted by her appearance. Deacon guessed he didn’t blame the man. As much as her spoiled entitled attitude frustrated and annoyed him, he couldn’t deny that she was positively one of the most gorgeous women he had ever laid eyes upon. And that included all the dirty videos he had watched alone in his apartment over the years.

“Zoe Waters. I guess people in Chicago don’t keep up with their celebrities? I’m used to using a VIP entrance.”

The white bouncer stepped over quickly.

“I’m sorry, forgive him Ms. Waters. I’m like your biggest fan. Please go in and enjoy yourself.”

He whispered something discreetly to his co-worker, who’s eyes went wide as he seemed to recognize her. They both stepped aside and let the pair pass. The black man took a double take of Deacon as he walked past, there must have been a ghost of a recognition of the cabbie, but it did not click that this sharp young man was the same greaser who had nearly started a fight with him earlier in the evening. He fought the urge to flip the guy off.

“Are you famous or something? Why’d they act like that?” Deacon furrowed his brow as they walked through the front doors of the club.

Zoe turned for a brief second with a faint smile and breezy air about her and kept moving ahead.

“Or something. I told you my name.” She shrugged.

“And I told you it didn’t mean anything to me. If you’re super famous or something I never heard of you.”

“Fine.” She replied in a chipper tone. “You’re also a neanderthal so…”

“Well why didn’t you just do that earlier, the first time we were here?”

“I was dressed to hide myself earlier. I don’t think many people would have recognized me or believed me while I was dressed so…normal with no makeup or anything. Besides you were kinda taking all the attention with all of your macho energy.”

“Hey, I wasn’t the one being macho, he was! I wasn’t the one trying to throw around my weight and push people around. I was just standing up for myself. There’s a difference between being macho and not taking shit off anyone.”

“What…ever.” Zoe replied in the most valley girly voice imaginable. “Anyway, where do we start?”

“We find the regulars and employees and start asking questions. You do have a picture of your friend I hope?”

Zoe put her long slender fingers on either side of her jawline and her mouth fell open.

“Oh no, I forgot it at the hotel! I guess we’ll have to go back again?”

“What?” Deacon’s eyes widened. Was she serious?

“Psyche! You dork.” She reached into her small designer purse and handed over a Polaroid with a girly giggle. It was a charming scene with Zoe and her friend poolside with their arms wrapped around each other, posing for the picture. Deacon glanced at it and then back at her, raising one dark eyebrow disapprovingly.

“What’s her name?”

“Ava. Ava Collins” Zoe remarked.

“Are you girls movie stars? Is that it? Ava Collins, Zoe Waters. Sounds like movie star names.”

“You mean stage names?” Zoe laughed. “It’s my real name if that’s what you’re wondering. The answer is yes, I have been in a few small roles in a couple movies. I’m far from a movie star though.”

Deacon looked her over, now certain that she would be more trouble for him than it was worth. He had never met a movie star before. It seemed like the one thing they all had in common though, was that they all had so many problems. He was used to thinking of movie star troubles as divorce and drugs and things like that though, not kidnapping and blackmailing.

“Wait you’re not…?”

“Not what?” She asked. Her demeanor had changed to a charming breezy manner that invited his eyes and emotions to her. When she smiled just then, a flash of white teeth exposed by her spreading ruby lips, his heart leaped in his chest, and he nearly forgot what he was asking.

“Not…y’know?”

“No, I don’t know.” The smile stopped and she looked at him suspiciously. “What?”

“Like one of those…porn stars?”

Zoe’s face darkened instantly, like clouds swarming over the life-giving sunshine in a summer sky. She put her fists on her shapely hips and stamped a platform heel.

“Fuck you pervert!” She rolled her eyes and turned her back on him with a whip of her long blonde hair, which he could see now was perfectly highlighted by black streaks that blended in perfectly to give the appearance of fullness and body. The highlights weren’t overdone, they were just enough to separate her from the normal girls surrounding them. “No, I’m not a porn star!”

“Oh, sorry.” He replied, now completely embarrassed by his question. “Look I didn’t mean…”

“Shut up and let’s get this moving.” Her voice had now done a complete 180 and was once again filled with frost.

The Excalibur was not one single dance floor, the little castle in the middle of Chicago was too big for that. Walking inside through the entryway, there were several different areas, like little playgrounds that one could go to depending on their tastes. A cacophony of sounds assaulted the senses. The booming from the dance club area could be heard and felt, the rhythmic bass shook the walls. Over on the other side, a rock club wailed away, not quite as loud as the dancefloor, but the sounds of shrieking guitars hovered in the air.

Deacon passed by one of several small lounge areas with several plush couches and masses of tangled bodies entwined together lustfully on his way to the main dancefloor. Once he opened the doors and entered, he immediately felt older than his actual age. There were swirling disco-like lights in the darkened cavernous room, which was filled with young sexy singles leaping and dancing and sweating. It was a melting pot of ethnicities; one could see every color within the human rainbow pressed against each other bumping and grinding their bodies together in various levels of inebriation. The dancefloor did not just draw a variety of people from different socioeconomic backgrounds from across the city, but from across the world. This night was hosting a bachelorette party, according to a sign by the door, to a group of wealthy young socialites from London.

Zoe was immediately accosted by a group of people that seemed to recognize her. Some asked for autographs and others were pleading for her to enter the dance floor chaos. She took the attention in stride and was soon surrounded on the dance floor by a dancing sea of humanity, and Deacon lost sight of her. He began asking people that looked sober enough to answer him if they had seen the girl in the picture. After the second dozen people he asked, he could see that the only progress he was making inside the dance area was towards getting a headache. The few people that did seem interested in what he was asking could not communicate effectively, even screaming as loud as possible while mere inches away.

Deacon took one longing glance at the attractive head of blonde hair that disappeared into the chaos and left the dance floor area, heading towards the bar. He passed by a few people that were heading towards the dance floor and laughed when he saw one of them dressed as Elton John, complete with ridiculous oversized glasses. Behind Elton was a spot-on Michael Jackson impersonator. Beyond them lay the bar, Deacon quietly found an open bench on the end.

“What can I get you?” A Hispanic female bartender asked with a hard smile.

“Whisky sour.” Deacon smiled back and waited for her to go to the other side of the bar and mix the drink. He salivated when she brought it back over. He needed this like he needed oxygen at that defeated moment. He looked at the drink for a moment, and when it did not talk to him, he seemed content.

“Hey before you go, I’m looking for this girl and I was wondering if you remember seeing her in here recently.” Deacon handed over the polaroid.

The girl studied it for a minute, her hard features did not soften, but she held up a finger and walked over to the other male bartender. As they seemed to discuss the picture, Deacon reached down and threw back the drink. Once it began to warm his bloodstream, he began to calm down a little. She finally came back over.

“Why are you looking for this girl?” She asked.

“She’s missing.”

“Who are you? You ain’t the cops.”

“Her name is Ava. I’m a friend of her friend. Her friend is very concerned. Also, can I get another one of those?”

He received an odd look from the woman, who seemed to size him up for a long, uncomfortable moment before leaving once more and coming back with the drink. Deacon handed her a twenty-dollar bill and told her to keep the change. This seemed to improve her mood only slightly.

“Yeah, she came in here regular for a while a few weeks ago.”

“Was she with a rich kid?”

The woman looked back at the other bartender, who seemed to be eavesdropping. He gave her a barely distinguishable nod.

“Yeah, she was with a rich kid.”

“Do you know who it was?”

“She was with that trustfund kid. Y’know, the one that’s always on the news and the gossip columns.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“I don’t remember his name. He’s the son of the guy that owns that “Aon” company. Goes by Butch or something like that.”

Butch Verdun. Deacon remembered hearing about him and the Aon company to which he was the sole heir. It was a company in Chicago that was quickly on the rise, but nobody seemed to know exactly all that it did. It was officially a real estate investment firm, but also did a lot of work in research technology. But now the largest question he had was this Butch Verdun the kidnapper, or was he himself a victim here? Zoe mentioned that her friend had told her that he had been in some financial trouble, possibly related to drugs or gambling. They had gotten on the wrong side of a gang, but perhaps this Butch guy was more involved than it seemed?

“One more question.” Deacon drew her attention once more as she was looking as if she were about to shift to another portion of the bar. “Do you know anyone else they had been seen with? Or do you know anyone else that would know?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry that’s about all I know. I did see them in here a few weeks ago. They were coming in every night for a while.” She then bent in closer, so that only the young man might hear her next words. “You didn’t hear this from me, but I would talk to Easy. He’s a guy that kinda works for the bigger players as a middleman. He’s the guy to see around here about all kinds of illegal things you might need for a good party. I saw him earlier, he’s here somewhere.”

Deacon nodded solemnly, thankful for the advice. He popped down the second shot, thankful for the warm comforting effect that flowed through his body. He lit a cigarette and began thinking of where he could find this guy. He figured a man that people went to when they needed various things, especially illegal things would not tend to hang out on the dance floors where people would need to shout their demands. That left the several lounge areas, the bathrooms and other quieter places within the multistory complex.

Deacon decided to go for a little walk around, trying to remain inconspicuous while looking around and studying the various patrons who were sitting around the lounge areas. Some of them were making out, some were just sitting around talking. Few of them looked suspicious, none like they were soliciting anything, illegal or otherwise. He got an idea when he saw a pair of girls in a dark corner of one of the rooms that obviously looked like they were enjoying the effects of some type of drug, possibly a hallucinogen by the way they were studying their own limbs and the movement around them

“Hey, you ladies know where I can score?” He asked.

They gave him a suspicious look, and he had forgotten momentarily about his recent makeover. Normally with his long hair and unkempt appearance, he would have been trusted by the lower element of society, but in this case, they were trying to figure out if this well-dressed young man was a narc or not. In this particular case, young hormones seemed to win the day. One of the girls looked up and smiled at Deacon in a flirty manner.

“You’re kinda cute. You wanna come hang out with us?” She was completely inebriated by the sound of her slurring speech.

“Sure. I just gotta get straight first. Is anyone holding in this place? I couldn’t find my usual guy.”

“Yeah honey, he’s downstairs. His name is Easy.”

Perfect. Deacon smiled at the pair and headed downstairs.