*****  

Police Departments are a study in institutional hubris. Most departments throughout the United States overflow with testosterone. It doesn't matter if the cops are men or women, a large department or a smaller one, the cops see themselves as the "thin blue line" keeping chaos at bay. And ... it doesn't matter if a cop gets his ass kicked every time, as long as he or she is willing to "mix it up" every time. 

The other thing about police departments that hold true is that the cops love gossip. They will keep it among themselves almost exclusively, but they love it. And let something weird happen out on the street and no matter how much the brass will try to keep it quiet from the troops ... the word gets out.

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

Grassy Patch Bar & Grill 
Burbank, California 

Brandt Hollingsworth pulled into the parking lot of the "Patch." It was a small and lively bar and grill owned by a former LAPD officer by the name of Richard "Dickie" Crump. Dickie worked the job for twenty-two years making it to sergeant when he pulled the pin. Country western music was the preferred beat, and if you were a single cop or were looking to commiserate the sorry state of your marriage the "groupies" hung out and were available. It was also a good place to come to where you compare notes with the "brothers" (and the lady cops were NOT excluded.)

Bobby Seal had called Hollingsworth when he heard the rumor mill begin to grind after the incident at the morgue.

Hollingsworth walked into the dimly lit bar, stopped and looked around. Seal was sitting at a table in the rear with a pitcher of beer and several glasses. He waved and Hollingsworth walked over and sat down. Seal nodded and pointed at the beer glasses. "Grab one Holly. Is your partner coming over?"

Hollingsworth nodded and reached for a glass. He picked up the pitcher and poured it to the brim, some running over the edge while foaming mightily. He picked up the glass and sipped. 
"Hmm, now Bobby, that is the pause that refreshes." Placing the glass back down he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a pack of unfiltered Lucky Strikes.

"Say, I thought you quit, Holly. What's the deal?"

Hollingsworth looked at Seal while he pulled out one and lit up. "Yeah, I quit. But I might start up a whole lot of bad habits I dropped."

They both saw the front door open and Marty Paul walk in. He saw them and walked over. Marty had aged a whole lot in the last couple of days. He pulled up a chair and grabbed a glass. 
"The next pitcher is on me, matter of fact lets get it now." Marty waved at Dickie behind the bar and held up the now almost empty container. "Another, Dick."

Dickie nodded and began filling another. 

Marty drew a long drink and set his glass down. "You tell him yet?" he said looking at Hollingsworth. Hollingsworth took another drink and shook his head no.

"Jesus, what is going on with you two guys?" Seal was now feeling genuine unease because he recognized how disturbed Hollingsworth and Paul appeared. "You guys look like hell. What went on the other day? Holly, is it true you were called down to see the Chief? What the hell happened over at the morgue?"

Hollingsworth looked at Marty Paul, then his eyes went down to the table. Not looking at Seal he said in a very quiet voice, "Bobby, are you sure you really want to know? Cause let me tell you pal, some things should be left alone."

A waitress brought the pitcher of beer to their table and set it down. Paul pulled a ten dollar bill out of his wallet and handed it to her. She gave him change and he tossed a dollar on her tray. She smiled at him and walked off.

"Bobby," Paul began. "Let me tell you what! If I live until I am two hundred years old I will NEVER FORGET THE SHIT I SAW THE OTHER DAY!"

Both Paul and Hollingsworth drained their glasses and both refilled. Seal sat still for a moment and just looked at them. Then he turned to Hollingsworth.

"God Damnit Holly, jus' what the fuck happened?"

Hollingsworth sat back and looked at Seal. Seal realized he had never seen anyone with a look of such horror and disgust as what Hollingsworth was now displaying.

"Okay Bobby. You want to know so I will tell you. But you remember that you asked." He pulled out another Lucky Strike and lit it. Hollingsworth then took a very deep drag and blew it out. "That girl we picked up the other night. The young one with her throat bitten out. You know?"

Seal nodded. "Yeah Holly, that is a fucking weird one."

"Oh yeah, weird doesn't cover it though. Me and Marty went over to witness the autopsy. Hector Santos was conducting. We got there and Hector pulled her out and the first thing he says is that her condition is weird. I mean real weird! He told us she had no surface lividity, her eyes were clear and there was no rigor. He never saw anything like it."

Seal took a sip of beer. "How is that possible? What did he think caused that?"

Hollingsworth gave a sad little smile. "Oh Bobby, we didn't get to the most fucking strange part. Hang on a sec. So anyway me and Marty are just standing there and I get a call on my cell. Suddenly she sat up!"

"What? Who sat up?" Paul shuddered and blurted out;

"The stiff Bobby. She sat up and looked around and said sumpin' like `where am I? I couldn't believe my eyes, Jesus Christ, I almost had a fucking heart attack right there! Christ!"

Seal shook his head and suddenly laughed. "You two guys are pulling my dick! What the hell is this? You expect me to believe this shit?"

Hollingsworth just looked at him. "Oh yeah, Bobby, I do, cause it happened just like that. Hector about shit himself then remembered he was a doctor. He jumped forward and tried to help her, then she looked at him and said she was hungry. Hungry Bobby! She grabbed him one handed, jerked him off his feet then bit a chunk right outta his neck and started drinking the blood!" Hollingsworth stopped and drained his glass. He looked around and motioned for another pitcher.

Seal now felt a cold band of fear wrap itself around his head. He wasn't quite sure what to say. He looked at Hollingsworth and Paul for a second.

"You guys aren't shitting me are you?" They both shook their heads. "What the fuck was she?"

Hollingsworth just smirked now. "Bobby, we picked up a gen-u-wine vampire, buddy! And Hector, if he lives, will verify that fact. Shit, I think this is a hell of a good reason to get blasted. What do you say, Marty?"

"Yeah, Holly, works for me!" Seal looked at them like they were suddenly struck insane.

"A what?" Paul picked up Hollingsworth's cigarettes, pulled one out of the pack and lit it.

"You heard him Bobby." Seals face showed massive confusion.

"Holly, what did they want down at Parker Center?" He figured that was the safest thing to say at this point.

"Well, Bobby, the Chief called in all the troops and the cavalry. All the shift commanders, the Special Agent from the Los Angeles FBI, and a guy from the CDC back in D.C. He questioned me all about it with all that brass sitting there, hanging on my every word. You know we had two detectives get mugged or something. Somehow I got the idea it was all connected."

“Yeah, Archuletta from Foothill, and you remember Mallory from Foothill? He retired on a medical a few years ago. I heard some weird things about that, and they are all over at St. Joe's." Seal poured another glass, draining the pitcher. Dickie himself brought over the next one.

"Say, what you guys got going on? Somebody get promoted or maybe divorced?" The three of them looked at him and then laughed.

"Dickie, my man," Holly said, "You wouldn't believe it and take my word for it, you don't want to know." He looked at them funny and shrugged, took their money and walked off.

"Oh yeah, I haven't seen this much confusion since the Rodney King debacle. Not even the damn 9-11 mess and the terrorist shit. What I saw there my good friends, there is some serious fucking concern."

Seal reached down and pulled up a folder he had on his seat. "You guys see this yet? I got it as I was leaving the station." He pulled a photograph of Frankovitch out.

Marty grabbed it and looked. "Who the hell is this guy?"

Hollingsworth took it and looked at it. "Hey, I remember him. Franko - something."

"Yep, Frankovitch. Detective Marty Frankovitch. He disappeared about seven years ago while working on the Valley Stalker case. Matter of fact he was partnered with Mitchell Mallory, the guy over at St. Joe's. You will hear all about it during tomorrow's briefing, for sure. Everybody thought he was dead, now they are looking for him. And the brass are not happy about it. Seems like he is about to be declared public enemy number one. The Sarge told me this guy is not to be approached alone. He is supposed to be some very, very bad news." Paul and Hollingsworth were now confused.

"I don't get it, why?" Marty asked.

Seal now leaned forward and in a very low voice said, "’Cause he and some young chick are supposed to be the perps that attacked Archuletta and Mallory guys. And, this is the wild part, supposedly they were both bitten and bled out!"

"Shit!" was all that Hollingsworth and Paul could now muster.