Reality Is Relative

Captain Jack Davis of the Las Vegas Police Department has a problem. 

The only witness to a mop-style murder is... an alien

Of course, the lovely young woman isn't really from out of this world, right? 

Even though all the evidence points to one conclusion.

The hard-bitten cop knows better than to mix business with pleasure.  He walks a tight line in that department, always has.  

Something about this ethereal, waif-like innocent touches Davis's cold, cynical heart, however.

So how does he protect this unique witness.

Maybe with the help of his close friend and confidant, William Novak, head of the Paranormal/Psychology department at Georgetown University, they can come up with a feasible plan to protect this young woman's life. 

Or maybe not...because the Mob is good at what it does.

I'm Captain Jack Davis, LVPD.

Las Vegas is my city.  I've lived here a while now and I know it's multi-faceted citizens like the back of my hand.

Sooner or later, everybody comes to Vegas.

The rich, the famous, the avant-garde.  I've met them all.  The druggies, the criminal element, the desperate, the curious, the lonely.

And of course...the tourists.

We even have the occasional alien or vampire.  (yeah, I said that with a straight face, and I stand behind my words.)

If you could read my files? Well, let's just say, it would be an interesting read.

Ron Pierson.    Five Star Review

I didn't think a woman writer could do justice to a Mickey Spillane type of cop but I was wrong.  The humor had me from the beginning.  I found myself trying not to laugh out loud when I was reading the book.  Jack Davis is everyman.  He is someone I would call a buddy.  Vegas is the place to set such a story because the book is full of weird and wonderful characters that seem to belong in that type of atmosphere.  Very well written and enjoyable to read.

Becky Ackerman    Five Star Review

I would follow Jack Davis anywhere.  He is the kind of detective every woman should have in her life.  He is witty and warm and gruff and mean and sexy and mature.  And he cares.  He will make you think he doesn't but, he does.  I can't wait for another story about Capt. Jack Davis.  A new kind of cop.  A new kind of writer.  Keep it coming, Elise C. Davies.

Jack Davis was an astute man. It was only one of his qualities but had anyone asked him, he would have mused openly for a second and answered in that matter-of-fact way he had about himself... "Astute? Sure, why not."

Not much shocked or surprised him any longer. He had been on the Force too long for that eventuality. But some things did still manage interest him from time to time.

He wasn't late for his luncheon date with the guys over at the Paranormal/Psychology Department, but he would be if anything caught him before his steps could get him out of the station.

The exit loomed large before him...a few more steps to freedom.

Well, at least an hour of it.

It had been a slow day, in reality but the cases of late had been horrendous and the man was thinking...deep sea fishing trip, as soon as humanly possible.

The man had passed the idea past William Novak, and they had talked for about an hour on the where and when.

It was time for a break from duty and all the stress of his chosen vocation. A plane trip would land them in the Gulf in no time. Yeah...a little time off would suit the cop just fine.

Jack pulled up short just a few feet from the metal detector.

The cops on duty gave him a 'what's up' look. He sighed heavily, waved them off then...retraced his steps.

The Captain had noted her on his way past. It probably would only take a few moments. He knew he would not be able to enjoy his repast had he not at least made the gesture.

"...Miss? Have you been helped?" He glanced around for a desk sergeant, seeing the man was busy with a well-dressed woman and what appeared to be, her husband.

Davis' eyes swept the woman before him, summing her up in a few seconds.

Homeless by the look of the dirt and stains on her clothes. A large red gash on her right temple, swollen and bruising, meant she very likely had been binged with something.

A cheap wine bottle maybe. He did not smell any offensive odors, but she looked worse for wear.

"One...one of your kind..." She seemed to rethink that sentence, halting uncertainly. "Someone...has been injured."

"You?" He motioned to her forehead. "There is a clinic just off..."

She blinked, scowling slightly. "No. It is not me that..." She constantly sought out her surroundings. The station was abuzz with activity. The fact clearly unsettled her. "Perhaps I.. I should come back later."

Davis held up his hand to waylay her intended departure. "Well, now, wait a minute. Who was hurt? Was there a fight?" He threw out theories, shrugging his stocky shoulders. "Where did this happen? When?"

The questions seem to throw the woman...well, girl.

The Captain estimated her age to be late twenties if that. "I'm sure it will only take a moment..." He raised his voice above the hubbub of the noise transpiring about them.

"Hey..Troy! How much longer until this lady can make a report? Got anyone free?"

"Cut me some slack, Captain." The man was clearly harried. "It's a madhouse right now. We got accidents and a fire...gonna be about twenty minutes. I'm only one guy!"

Davis sighed mentally. "He's only one guy." He smiled down at the large, brown eyes that waited so anxiously for him.

"Hang on." He crossed, reached for the pad behind the raised desk, giving Troy a 'not to worry' look.

"Here you go. You can fill this out. And then they will be able to get to you, I think. Okay?"

He handed the woman the forms. She looked at them as if they were an alien object.

"It's not complicated. Name, address. That sort of thing. This box will let you tell your story, see here?" He pointed the section out. "It shouldn't be much longer. We appreciate good citizens coming in to help us out...really."

He glanced more closely at the bump on her head. Fresh...still open...red, raw. Trying to heal though. "You okay?"

She hesitated, nodding politely.

"Cool...well, there you go." He could eat in peace. "Just fill that out and they will do the rest." He remembered to smile.

The guy took one more look and moved toward the exit and freedom...for at least an hour.

He did not look back. He had learned that early on in his career.

It took him perhaps two minutes to make his way from the parking garage to the street, his eyes scanned for cross traffic, and he pulled the black SUV out into the mainstream of an early lunch crowd.

He groaned rather loudly, pulling his vehicle to the side of the street.

Captain Jack Davis leaned down that he might be seen. "Hey..."

She gasped at the familiar face, pulling up short, stopping her trek along the sidewalk. The one leading away from the Police Station.

"You're pretty fast at filling out those reports, huh?"

Those brown eyes were instantly guilt-ridden...searching for an 'out', as she scanned the street for possible 'exit' plans. None of which was presenting themselves as yet.

Davis put the car in park, sighing again as he opened the car door. He had to wait, because traffic was not being cooperative, of course. This day was starting to suck.

"Miss.." Jack stepped upon the sidewalk, extending his hand. "If you know someone has been hurt, it's your civic duty to let us know about it. Where you going that is so important you can't take a minute or two to.."

"No...it is the questions. I do not know the answers." She blurted, backing away from his advancing form. Something in her eyes made Davis stop.

He read...fear.

"Hey...I'm one of the good guys. I'm not going to hurt you. I just wondered..." He drew in a breath, changing his tactics. "Look...are you hurt? Do you need to see a doctor or something?"

"No.." She constantly searched her surroundings, as if looking for an escape. "I.. I am...well. May I go?"

"Well, I can't technically stop you, but I wish you would talk to me for a minute, okay?" He tried a smile, insincere as it might be. "Did you know this person...the one that was hurt?"

She hesitated then shook the long tresses negatively. "I...I think he is...not well."

"So, where is he?"

"...I...am not certain. I have traveled a long way this day." She seemed lost in more ways than one. She touched her forehead tentatively, wincing from the gesture. "I...fell. Nothing is clear."

Davis scowled. "What's your name? Do you live here? In Vegas?"

"No." She stated. "No, I do not live here."

"And...your name?" He reminded.

She lowered her head, her hand shaking as she lifted it to her eyes for a beat. "That...is one of the questions." She lifted a weary stare. "On your forms. I am sorry." She seemed genuinely so. "I do not know my name."

An hour later...minus lunch, for Jack Davis had missed it completely, landed him cooling his heels outside an examination room at the nearest hospital.

He could have called an ambulance. Or delegated the task to someone else, but the woman had seemed so...something.

He was kicking himself for being such a sucker when the doctor approached him.

"It could be amnesia. Or she could be faking. There is no way to tell in these cases. The concussion is severe enough to warrant it, but...hell. You know more about it than I do at this stage, Jack."

"That's it? That's what eight years of med school gets me?? You're the expert, Doc!"

"At golf, son. Medicine, especially where the brain is concerned, is a crap shoot. She seems genuinely shook up. Somethings going on. You're the detective...detect!"

"You going to keep her for observation or something?"

"She refuses to stay...can't hogtie her."

"You've been so helpful...thanks."

"Sarcasm becomes no man."

"So's your mother." Davis reminded absently. "You'd be doing me a favor if you would keep her, at least over night?"

"Convince her to stay and I will okay it."

Davis nodded. "See what I can do."

The detective knocked on the glass door, waiting patiently for once. He was mildly surprised when the woman, herself carefully opened the latter, peeking around the frame curiously.

"Can I come in?" He grinned at her wide-eyed expression.

"Oh." She stepped back, having opened the entrance a tad more. "Yes."

"Everything okay?" He asked the rhetorical question, turning in the small area.

"Nothing is as it should be!" She practically snapped then...settled instantly. "Forgive my.." she sighed heavily. "Please...may I go now? The...the physician informs me, I do not have to stay if I do not wish to stay."

"What about your friend?"

"My...friend?" She was lost.

"The 'hurt' guy?"

"He can no longer be helped. Your system is far too slow. It is more than antiquated."

"Or..." The cop reminded just a tad peevishly. "You could have simply told us where he was from the minute I asked. It seems you are the one that let him down, not us."

She lowered her eyes, the creamy brown ones, that had just welled with tears.

Davis tried again. "Okay, look. Just tell me the vicinity where you think this guy might be. I will take it from there. Can you at least do that much?"

"It was...to the South of your metropolis. I noted a sign that read: Las Vegas, 18 miles."

"And you were out there in the desert for what reason? You and your 'hurt' friend?"

"I have no knowledge of this male's identity. I witnessed two men. Four. They..." She was clearly attempting to remember details. "They used...that." She had pointed to his weapon, sheaved in its custom-made holster at his side.

"A man was shot?"

"Shot?" She tasted the word. "Yes. Yes with...that." She motioned again. "I can show you approximately, but I was hurt. I will attempt to retrace my path, if you wish. It is all I meant to do when I came to your...place of internment."

"How long are we talking? When did this go down?"

She shook her head.

"Are you up for a ride?"

"I am functional."

Davis pulled his vehicle off to the side of the two-laned highway, surveying the surrounding landscape. "There's the sign. Now where?"

"I had not walked for very long. It is there, I believe." She pointed to some out-jut of rock formation a good two miles ahead off to the left of where they parked.

The cop checked the highway which was clear and pulled unto the lane, gunning the powerful engine as he drove mechanically.

"So, you were out here, and saw what you think was an argument among these four individuals." He had questioned her and gotten a little information

"You heard raised voices, went to check it out. Saw this tall man shoot the 'hurt guy'. They saw you. You tried to get away, slipped and fell over an embankment, hitting your head...is that it in a nutshell?"

"That is the events as they unfolded to the best of my memory, yes. Rather too condensed, but...yes."

"And you think you can identify this 'tall' guy. The one that actually did the deed."

"His face was unique. His features clearly defined."

"Why did they allow you to live, if you witnessed the crime?"

"I only know, I sensed they meant to do me harm. I cannot answer for what was in their minds."

Davis glanced over to the woman. "But they didn't. Why?"

She frowned at him. "I have answered that question to the best of my abilities."

"This looking any better?" He had pulled over again, where she had indicated earlier.

She took her time, surveying the territory, getting out of the car.

Davis followed as she walked across the highway. There were few cars this time of day. The sun was hot, it being early June. But there was a stiff breeze blowing off the mountains which made it bearable.

Still, he left his jacket in the car. He waited patiently as she examined the panoramic view of desert, cliffs and rocky terrain.

"It...it all looks the same." She was apologetic.

"Nothing?"

"I remember the peaks. It was closer to those."

He resumed his trek, and she followed. "What were you doing out here? Where is your car?"

She stopped her steps.

He turned. "What?"

"You ask questions to which I have no answers."

"You remember some things but not others?" the cop in him sensed, 'hickey.'

"I am doing the best I can!" She had not liked his tone, clearly. "My head is hurting; I am not feeling well, and I am thirsty. Terribly so! I am trying to be concise...it is difficult!"

"Okay, calm down. I've got water in the car. You could be a little dehydrated. You have to understand though...this guy could need our help. He could be dying."

"You tell me the obvious. You insisted I go to that horrible place. Not I. I would have returned here much sooner had you simply allowed me leave your presence."

"How would you have returned? In your car? Oh, that's right. You don't know where it is, right?"

She stiffened. "You believe me to be lying." It seemed to dawn on her.

The cop signed mentally.

Chicks. Can't shoot em, can't bury em out in the desert. Not and collect your pension.

He did not, of course, voice his sentiments.

"Leave me."

"Excuse me?" He half laughed at the absurdity. "Leave you? Just drive away? How do you plan to get back into town?"

"I managed one time this day. I do not like you." She turned, marching in the direction of the highway.

Davis shook his head in amazement watching the rapidly retreating figure.

He downed his head, uttering a soft oath. "Hey. Thought you said you were thirsty. You think to bring any water?" He called after her.

She merely continued her determined steps.

He spread his hands in a gesture of amazement, then trudged after the woman. "Alright...you've made your point. Let's find the guy before the buzzards do, what'd ya say?"

She...halted to his surprise. "They are...carnivores."

"Yeah, lots of carnivores out here." He nodded. "Let's find this person. He needs to be found, right?"

She swallowed her pride. She glared at the man for a long beat. "It is...this way."

An hour later, minus a tie, sleeves rolled up...a crime scene unit was on site as Davis watched them do their thing on a bluff overlooking a deep ravine.

"Execution style. One to the back of the head, one between the eyes." His close friend, William Novak related the facts as he knew them so far. "As far as I can tell from prelim, she's right about there being four perps. We'll know more when we get the evidence back to the lab."

Davis often called Novak because quite frankly, he just did not trust the crime unit to do a thorough job. Not like this guy would and a murder was a murder, after all.

Any help was appreciated.

Novak looked at the woman in question, sitting on a rock, drinking water from a bottle. "She a suspect?"

"I don't know what the hell she is...or isn't." Davis admitted.

"She's dehydrated. You should get her to a hospital. Or at least out of the sun."

"Yeah?" Davis looked at her. "She's putting the water down, alright."

"Her skin color is off, and she keeps rubbing her eyes. She needs medical attention."

"Whatever." Davis sighed heavily, going over to the woman begrudgingly. "Call me when you know something. I've told them to give you carte blanche with the shit they gather."