(12) I am what I am

~ Quinn ~

“Well we know the last place he was before he ended up in that apartment,” Jack said, resting a hip on the corner of my desk as he waited for me to get off the phone.

“We also know where he was staying,” I told him a minute later, “At a hotel half way across town from the murder scene. Which club?”

“The Pink Pelican. How the hell they came up with a name like that is beyond me.”

I knew the place, had even stopped in for a drink there a couple of times. It was a gay bar, one of the better ones actually if a bit too chichi for my taste.

“Did anyone see him leave with someone?”

Jack shook his head. “None of the help did. We need to get someone in there tonight to talk to the customers.” He looked at me with a slight smile. He knew I was gay, one of the few on the force that did. Not that I hid it, I just didn’t advertise it either. I like my job and don’t feel like dealing with the homophobic attitudes that unfortunately many cops still have.

“Meaning me. Sure, why not. I’ve got nothing better to occupy my off hours.”

“We have those?” Jack laughed in wry amusement. “At least you don’t have to deal with the grieving widow. I’m picking her up at the airport at eight thirty. God I hate that.”

“Better thee than me. You have that whole ‘fatherly’ thing going, so she’ll cry on your shoulder and tell you what a wonderful man he was and how he loved her and the kids and would never, ever have let someone pick him up at a bar.”

“Yeah I know.” He sighed. “Okay, I’m out of here. I want to check in with my own family before facing her.”

“Right. Unless I strike paydirt and call you, which is probably doubtful, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Once he’d left I did a bit of sighing of my own. If I had to visit a gay bar I’d have preferred one of my own choosing where I might just meet someone interesting enough to hook up with for the evening. The Pink Pelican was not that place. The men who hung out there tended to be too much on the flamboyant side for my tastes. I’m not into actors, designers or the wannabes. With that thought, I turned my attention back to the report I was working on for another case. A report the captain wanted on his desk in the morning.