Detective Quincy entered the locally famous Alibi bar east of Los Angeles. It was a smoky, dimly lit bar filled with ex-cons, their rough exterior and hardened expressions betrayed their past lives behind bars. The air was thick with the scent of cigarettes and cheap liquor. Glasses clinked and low murmurs filled the room. The patrons sat at dark wooded worn tables, nursing their drinks and swapping stories. The atmosphere was tense and uneasy, as if at any moment a fight could break out. In the corner, a lone figure sat, playing a melancholy tune on a worn out piano.

Leaning up against the bar, Quincy waited for the bartender Maurice to come by. He wore a tight black shirt and tight black pants.

"Hey I'm Maurice. What can I get you this evening?" The bartender asked.

"Just the man I'm looking for. How do you do?" Quincy asked. "I'll actually pass on the drink, but thank you, though. I'm here to talk about Jonathan Byron. You see, I'm a detective. Was he here last week on Monday? That's 10 days ago."

"Oh yes, Jonathan Byron. He was here 10 days ago."

Detective Quincy smirked. "Was he here on Tuesday?"

"Yes, he was here on Tuesday."

"Very interesting. What about Wednesday?" Detective Quincy rubbed his chin. He knew that Maurice was lying.

"Uh-huh."

"Thursday?"

"Yep."

"... Friday?"

"Jonathan's got a real drinking problem if I'm being candid." Maurice chuckled.

"That's funny, so his Alcoholics Anonymous attendance is purely for show then?"

"I guess so. I don't judge." Maurice shrugged. "What's this about anyways?"

Detective Quincy scanned the bar. He knew the place well, one of the only people on the police force that actually understood what Alibi was all about. "You see, Jonathan actually disappeared. This was the last place he was seen according to an eyewitness."

"Oh. He disappeared?"

"Yeah, but he didn't take any money or steal anything. We're actually worried about his safety, Mr. Maurice. There's no way he was here this whole week. He disappeared on Monday night. Last seen going east in Arizona on Tuesday."

Maurice scoffed, irritated by getting caught in the lie. "I don't know what you want me to say. Why don't you bother the Arizona police force and get them to shake their asses for you?"

Detective Quincy cleared his throat. "This may seem like a weird question, Maurice, but how's your wife recently? Has she been depressed?"

"What else is new, pal."

"Moreso than usual?"

Maurice narrowed his eyes at Quincy.

Detective Quincy frowned. "I only ask because, and I hate to tell you this, Jonathan was having an affair with your wife."

Maurice had a vein pop in his neck. "Wait. Who is this guy?"

"I thought you knew him? I thought he came here everyday?" Quincy mocked.

"Look, I don't know this guy, okay? And stop spreading this lie that my wife is having an affair!"

Detective Quincy took a deep breath. "Maurice, I only say this because Jonathan and your wife are both in grave danger, and I need as much information as I can get if they are going to survive. Now, I can imagine you don't care for Jonathan, but you still love your wife. We need to take action now to protect her."

Maurice looked like he was about to explode with rage, but he exhaled and pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. "Meet me out back."

r/randallcooper