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DaRk AnGel : Why Home : November 2006 : 3-26-1977 Part 2

3-26-1977 Part 2

Connie was down the street at the Back Door. In the back room she was on her knees with her head busy giving Blue Eyed Bob some of the perks of his job. If her old man ever caught her or even suspected that she was doing anyone else, he would kill her. She knew that was a big part of the thrill. The other was that Bobs Blue eyes matched the blue of the uniform he wore and he was gorgeous. All the young girls loved Bob.

The police radio broke the near silence. It reported a shooting a block away at 415 Bourbon. The timing was good. Connie had just finished him up and he could get out of there without having to make any small talk or pay her with any lies.

As Bob hit the door of the club the brightness of Bourbon Street matched the adrenaline that raced through him. The sirens were beginning to come, horses hooves could be heard in the distance. He pushed through the thickening crowd and saw the door propped open at Papa Joes. Bob recognized the person holding the door immediately. It was the bouncer. Good Bob thought, if anyone could handle someone with a gun it was Cowboy. He had done it twice before and the door frame of the club still retained the hole from the bullet that had barely missed his face. Probably….Hopefully… no one had been shot, but the gun had gone off in a struggle.

Bob drew his revolver as he neared the club. The crowd instinctively moved back. When Bob rounded the door he saw Pat. He had seen him around but was unsure of exactly who he was. He heard some sniveling behind him and saw Travis slumped over in the booth. He looked ahead as the mounted police arrived and saw Patty in tears standing on the stage frozen in the moment.

Bob looked to Cowboy, "what the f**K happened here?"

"You better ask Travis," Cowboy replied. I was down the street. "Pat was covering for me."

Hurriedly Bob got a description of the shooter from Travis. Then he broadcast it. Bob then turned back to Travis.

"Man I was just watching the door and barking," Travis started. "There was this one guy that kept standing there so I shut the doors for him to move on or to come in and get a drink. This dude walks up to me and hits me so hard I come flying through the doors and landing on my back. That is the last I remember."

"He was out" Bob the manager continued telling the story to Bob the cop. "Pat rushed out to take on this guy but he barely got out the door when the gun fired blowing him back inside. Then this guy comes in and looks down at Pat and fires again. He then runs out"

Policeman Bob's radio goes off. They have a suspect in custody. He is armed and the gun reeks of having been fired. They are bringing him around to the front of the club to have Bob and Travis identify him.

At the instant the transmission ended, Cowboy leaned over to Bob The manager and whispered, "Give me your gun."

Bob almost laughs but refrains after seeing the look in Cowboy's eyes. He knows that Cowboy is not playing.

"What are you gonna do?" Bob asks? "you gotta take it easy man, they got the guy, lets let things happen as they do."

"GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING GUN BOB.. Pat was … is my friend. He was doing me a favor.. Shit man, let me have your gun and I mean now." Cowboy hissed.

Sergeant Boudreaux had been watching the two men converse as he maintained order in the club. He stood straddled over the body and allowed no one in and no one out until statements were given and the investigation concluded. He knew of Cowboy, hell if not on sight his reputation preceded him. He half respected him and half feared him. Respect was for the fact that he had never lost a battle, even when the numbers were very against him. All the police had stated at one time or another that if Cowboy ever had to be taken in, it was going to take an army. There was fear of such a confrontation with the wild man. Cowboy was an angry man. A rage fighter - someone who would black out and have incredible strength. They feared his reputation and they feared his instability. Some police even speculated that some of the unsolved deaths in the darkened alleys were the work of Cowboy.

Boudreaux called a rookie over. "You see what I am doing here son?" The rookie nodded yes.

"Then you step over this man as I am, and you make sure no one comes or goes, unless they are police or paramedics. Got that?" Boudreaux said. The rookie nodded again and then lifted one leg over Pats body until he was astride it. Then Boudreaux shifted his weight and pulled his leg back over Pat. He walked over to the bar.

Bob the manager was speaking intensely to Cowboy. He looked up and noticed Boudreaux coming. Bob's stepping back and looking over caused Cowboy to turn and face the oncoming officer. It was then that even in the dark, Boudreaux could see what so many others had in the past. Something that he now understood why all that had seen it said it was unforgettable. There was no anger in Cowboys eyes. There was no rage. There was the doorway to hell. He felt a chill come over him, and instinctively moved his hand on top of his gun.

"What you two so intently discussing over here?" Boudreaux asked. He worried that what was already bad enough could possibly get worse. And Cowboy was one that he did not want in the mix if it did.

Cowboy stood silently staring at him. Bob wondered what was going on in the head of his bouncer. Surely he would not go for the cops gun, or would he?