Lucky O'Cléirigh

When I leave the Brightly house, four hours after arriving, it's a dusky late afternoon, the sun has begun to set and my phone rings in my bag.. I pull out the cell to answer it with a distracted sigh.. "Hello?"

"Lucky-Doll.. What's wrong, you sound upset?" Brody's tone drips in concern as it echoes down the line..

"Nothing is wrong, Brody.. But now isn't really a good time--"

He sucks a breath and I can hear the apologetic wince in his voice.. "Shit-- Sorry, babe.. I'm actually callin' about a job.."

"Oh?" I stop on the sidewalk to listen..

"Chyna already gave the approval to have you work a Northside shooting in The Hills that was called in late last night.. It's high profile stuff, the security detail for a Big Wig producer was hit.. Andrews is already on the way but I need yeh' here too to cover the scene shots, can yeh' do it?"

I rub my exhausted eyes.. "Uh--Yeah.. Yeah, O'course I can.. I'm downtown at the moment but I can run to the office and pick up my camera and references, be there in an hour?"

"Grand.." Brody breathes a sigh of relief.." Thanks Dolly, yer' doin' me a solid, I need this scene imaged like--yesterday.."

"I'll be there, Brody.." As I hang up the call I return to my jumbled thoughts as I walk the rest of the way to the bus stop..

My dizzy head is overfilled with new facts and formulating theories.. Ben and Lottie had shared so much with me about Abigail.. They talked about her failing grades, her increasing drug use and the introduction of an older gentleman to her social life with whom she had become infatuated.. All culminating to an explosive argument that had led to her running away from home only a few days before her disappearance was reported..

Her parents had never met the older man but Abigail had told them that he went by the street name 'Big Digs'.. Ben had said that he had heard the name around town in relation to one of the local gangs in the 818 area code.. A group of street thugs that would call themselves 'The Calaveras'..

I remember seeing mention of drug use and neighbourhood gang violence being noted in Abby's file, but the aforementioned 'Calaveras' were not named specifically.. In fact no gang members were ever questioned directly in relation to her death..

The way the paperwork is written it is almost as if the detectives doubted the connection at all.. Maybe they couldn't prove it? Or maybe nobody would talk.. Maybe with no tangible ties to the crew, Abigail's case had been disassociated from that line of questioning..

But why would Ben and Lottie lie?

All I know is, one of the 'Calaveras' members knows something.. Maybe Big Digs himself could shed some light as to what really happened to Abigail.. Maybe he really is the one who killed her.. The only problem now is that I don't know where to find him or what his real name is.. I wouldn't even know where to start..

But somebody does.. Somebody, somewhere knows the truth.. And I am going to find them..

As I walk quickly towards the bus stop a taunting voice catches me off guard as it echoes down the street.. "Eyy, Mami!" I turn with a start, looking over my shoulder to see a young guy in baggy jeans and a yellow bandana swiftly approaching me from across the road. "You lost, lil' Chula?"

"No, thank you.. I'm fine.." I keep walking, quickening my pace with a bad feeling brewing low in my belly..

"What? You think you're too good for me, Gringa? Is that it?" He smirks a sleezy grin as he falls into step beside me.. Reaching out to grab my elbow, the brute yanks me to a stop..

"Hey! Let me go!" I shout out, trying to pull away but he only grows more aggressive and pulls me closer..

"Sexy-lil mamacita like you better watch how you walkin' in these streets, big dog's gotta eat and you is some fine-ass meat!"

I open my mouth, ready to scream 'fire' but an old station wagon pulls up beside us and for the first time I am grateful to see the man who leaps from the driver's side door.. Flashing his badge and gun from beneath his jacket when he puts his hands on his hips, the detective gives a warning growl.. "Let the girl go, Lopez, ain't you done enough time this year? Your mumma would be rolling over in her grave if she was alive to see you harassing sweeties in the street!"

Diago Juarez couldn't have arrived with more perfect timing and in that moment I feel guilty for every bad thought I've ever had towards the guy.. After all, he has never actually done anything to warrant my dislike.. It's really just a feeling I get when he's around.. A bad feeling..

The thug called Lopez lets go of my arm and backs away as relief rushes through my veins and breath returns to my lungs. "Whatever you say Big D! I ain't here to fuck with pigs.." Flipping off the detective, Lopez then takes off back down the street and Juarez nods over at me..

"You alright, Lucky?"

"Yeah.. Thanks.." I rub my arm when the bruises have begun to set in and Diago waves me insistently towards the car..

"Come on, I'll give you a ride home.. Brody would have a fucking fit if he knew you were down here by yourself.. Don't you know this is gangland territory?! Shiiiit, Sinaloa runs these streets, you need to watch yourself, Girl.."

"Sinaloa? I--I didnt know.." I slide into the passenger seat of his station wagon, clutching my bag full of Abigail's case notes close to my chest.. "I didn't realise how dangerous it was down here.."

Diago shrugs with an easy forgiving smile, not giving me too hard a time for my ignorance. "Hey, you ain't the first white chick to stumble into some shit you don't know nothing about.. Just say you'll stay out of The 818 from now on.."

I chew my lip through a lie.. "I will, Detective Juarez.. I'm sorry.."

"What were you even doing down here anyway?" He probes as we hit the motorway that heads uptown and the wagon picks up speed..

"Oh.. Uhm--" I gaze out the window to watch mile makers whizz by.. "I was visiting Mr and Mrs Brightly.. I wanted to pray with them for Abigail.."

Diago snickers a bitter little sniff.. "And they were all cool with that? Huh.. Figures they'd be willing to hold hands with a fucking happy clappy photographer.. They wouldn't give shit to us detectives actually working the homicide.. Practically tied our hands behind our backs with all their dodging.. Some people just won't help themselves.."

"I'm not 'happy clappy'.." I mutter under my breath.. "I'm Catholic.."

"Huh.. I didn't know there was a difference.." He laughs, glancing across at me with a joking grin.. I never noticed how good looking Diago was before now.. Maybe because I was so busy being afraid of him.. But after he had saved me, I can suddenly see him in a new light.. His deep bronze complexion and strong dark features are the type that must attract many women to him.."So, what sins did the Brightlys confess then? Did Big Ben finally admit that he's the one who offed the girl? That's who Brody reckons done it, anyways.."

"And what about you? Who do you think did it?" I frown.. Brody had never said anything to me about Benson Brightly being guilty, if he truly believed that, why would he send me in the direction of danger?

Weird..

Still there was nothing about the heartbroken old guy that makes me think he is.. Sure Ben had been a bit of a grump, bit the way he spoke about his daughter, there's no doubt in my mind he misses her.. He loved her.. He couldn't have killed Abby..

"Ah, me?" Diago pauses to think for a second.. "I reckon a pretty young thing like Abby working the streets was easy pickings, it could have been any psycho in the city who done it.. You know the FBI's been hunting a serial killer down by the docks for over a decade.. They reckon the Brightly girl doesn't match the Southside Slayer's M.O.. But it's possible she was one of his.."

"I read the profile, it doesn't line up.. The Southside Slayer strangles, he drains the blood and takes small bones from his victims.. Abigail was beaten and shot in the back of the head.." I shake my head lost in thought, considering that Diago could be right.. But I doubt it.. Statistics don't lie.. When a woman is murdered more often and not, she knows the killer.. "Benson and Charlotte are convinced it was her boyfriend.. An older guy.."

"Yeah, we heard all about that, the mysterious boyfriend.." Diago drums his long fingers on the steering wheel and I notice the black band he has tattooed around his pinky.. "Only problem with that story is that Abigail wasn't seeing anybody, Lucky.. Me and Brody already looked into that.. Went through her contacts, her online activity her friends, everything.. The guy doesn't exist.. And if he does, nobody ever saw 'em together to ID him, nobody could even give us a name.."

I shrug.. "Benson seemed pretty sure of it.. Somebody must know who he is.. Maybe they just didn't want to talk to the cops.."

Diago pulls up outside of my apartment.. "Yeah.. Or that's just what Ben wants you to think.. You can't trust these people, Lucky.."

"Why?" I jeer with jaded doubt.. "Because they're poor?"

He chuckles, hooking an arm over the back of my seat as he turns to face me.. "Nah, girl.. Because they're fucking liars.."

"You sound like Brody.." I sniff.. "Automatically assuming the worst in people.."

Diago's dark brown eyes drift down to my hands as I unbuckle my seatbelt.. "I'll take that as a compliment, since I know how much you like The idiot Mick.."

My cheeks flush red with irritation.. I hate when Irish people are referred to as Mick or Micky.. Something about it sounds like an insult..

"Maybe they're scared?" I offer a justification.. Trying to find reason in what I know is madness..

Juarez chortles, arching a curious brunette brow.. "Scared of what?"

"The gangs.. The violence.. Maybe if people talk, they're afraid they'll end up just like Abby.."

He hums thoughtfully as his coal dark gaze bores deep into mine in that intense way that always unsettled me in the past.. "Maybe.. Are you saying you're scared?"

"No.. Yes.. Maybe, I dunno.." I chuckle nervously.. "Either way, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Brody about all this.. It's kind of embarrassing and ai don't want to upset him.."

Diago smirks as he runs a hand back through his thick, dark hair.. "I can keep a secret if you can.. You wanna know something he doesn't know, Lucky?"

"What?" I frown..

"I always thought you were too good for him--"

Time slows to become strange and surreal, warping all around me as his hand wraps around the back of my neck and Diago leans in to plant his mouth against mine..

The scent of spearmint and something spiced snakes into my nostrils and his warm tongue licks at my bottom lip..
I'm too surprised to move, too stunned to speak, paralysed by shock..

Why?
Why is this happening?
No.. No, no no!

All I can think of in that moment is how devastated Brody would be to know about this.. All I can feel is dirty and disgusting..

This is all my fault.. I shouldn't have gotten in his car.. I should have said no!
I should have waited for the bus..

When he finally let's me go and my body unfreezes, an automated response overrides my system and reflex takes hold..

I draw back a hand and as it swings forward to collide with his cheek a sharp crack stings the air and burns my palm..

-CRACK-

"Aw damn-- I probably shouldn't have done that, huh?" Diago grunts in pain, reaching up to rub his jaw where I'd hit him while he chuckles an impressed huff.. "You're all fire and spice, Lucky.."

Without a word, too devastated to talk and with tears brimming in my eyes I jump out of the car and run up the sidewalk to my apartment.. My stomach twists into sick knots and bile rises violently up the back of my throat..

I never want to see Diago again.. And what's worse, I don't think I can tell Brody about this..