She just sat on her knees and stared into the darkness. The rain continued to fall and stream across the window like the blood of an Anaconda. Her spirits were shattered. The thunder crumbled from the ceiling. The one man she wanted was right there for twenty seconds and then he was gone. Her life was pitiful.
Raquel forced herself to stand. She wasn't sure if it was the insanity of existence or the fumes of hashish that made her head spin. She staggered to the window and leaned upon the sill.
Suddenly the door burst open and in stalked two women police officers, one with the largest busts of Caesar and Rousseau Raquel had ever seen. "Alright, where did that commie-daemon-worshipping drug dealer go!"
"Who?"
"Moon Runner Hendrix," the second said. "We can smell him."
"Oh, you mean..."
"Yes, the Indian snake in the grass. Where did he go?"
"I don't know. He came... And he left..."
"Don't give us that. Your eyes are so red, you probably smoked half of Turkey with him."
"I've been crying."
"A likely story. Book her, Fitz."
"Right, Rae-Ann." Lola "Shooting Pistols" Fitz pulled out her handcuffs, held them up to Raquel's head and squeezed. "It's ok, I don't keep it loaded."
Yanking Raquel's arms behind her, Lola pulled out her .45, wrapped it around Raquel's wrists and force fed her a shot of straight Bosco. Both cops pushed her into the back hatch of a motorcycle, with the two busts.
Upon arriving at the station, Raquel was finger printed, off-set printed, photo-copied, and put in a cell with Sven and his grunting bison. The officers sent in a report to ISO. ISO was amused.
"So," Sven asked, "You like my pet?"
"Mmmmmmmmmmrrrunnnnnh," grunted the bison.
Raquel slid down the wall. "This has not been my day."
"So what are you in for?"
"Smelling like dope and having red eyes. You?"
"Sodomy. Him too. By the way, could you reach up and grab my watch from the bunk?"
