Gin Palace 01 - The Poisoned Rose by Daniel Judson

turned left at the end of Elm Street onto Railroad Plaza, and then made the left onto North Main Street and followed that for a half mile into the village, heading toward the library.
    It was a quiet night in town. The shops were closed, the sidewalks empty. The restaurants I passed weren’t all that busy. Unoccupied tables and wait staff with nothing to do were visible behind large storefront windows. The library was around the corner, on Job’s Lane, but I parked near the end of Main, close to the corner. I could cut around to the back of the Village Hall and approach the library that way and not be seen on the street by anyone.
    My shortcut to the back of town was the alleyway that ran between Frank’s office and Village Hall. I hadn’t even walked past Frank’s place since the night I trashed it and Augie had to pull me out and take me home. The front window to Frank’s office was dark now, but I still didn’t like being so near it all that much. The sooner I was away from there the better.
    I got out of my car and stepped to the curb and listened. It didn’t take long for me to pick out the sound of laughter coming from somewhere behind the Village Hall. It sounded distant and thin, and I went after it, walking down the alleyway to the small parking lot used by cops. Once there I heard something other than laughter.
    A shriek sounded out and carried briefly, then was cut off, gone.
    I tried to place it but it was too brief. Beyond the cop lot was a municipal parking lot the size of two football fields. It was empty now. To the right of that, behind the library, was a small park surrounded by a cluster of fir trees and a cyclone fence. It was a tiny park, not much bigger than my apartment. But I looked toward it intently and waited. It was the only enclosed area around, and anyway I had a feeling about it.
    I stopped just outside the alleyway and held still and listened. The shriek had been such a brief sound that a part of me doubted now that I had heard it. But there also was a part of me that didn’t doubt it, that heard it well and knew just what it meant.
    A car passed down Main Street behind me, and I could hear very little over it till it was gone. Then silence returned to the open parking lot and I waited in it, not making a move, my eyes fixed on the tiny-fenced in park behind the library.
    Then my ears found something, a rustling sound from near the center of that small park, the unmistakable sound of a struggle.
    I heard murmured words, male voices giving hurried and hushed commands. Then finally I heard it, another shriek, or half a shriek, for it was cut off midway through just like the one before, cut off before it could rise and carry, before it could reach above the dense trees that surrounded that park.
    It was all I needed to hear. My heart burst and sent a terrible ache through me, and I broke into an all-out run.
    I reached the fence and cleared it as quickly and quietly as I could. Then I moved forward through the border trees. This park was significantly darker than the open lot was, but still I spotted them almost instantly. They were on the other end of the enclosure, in a patch of open ground that was only slightly better lighted than the ground under the crowding trees.
    There were three of them, three boys in lettermen jackets. And there was Tina, in the middle of it. I could see her well enough. She was in their arms, not one part of her touching the ground. She was kicking and bucking and trying with all she had to get free of them. It looked like a feeding frenzy.
    I could hear her murmuring. One of the boys had his hand over her mouth. They were all talking at once in voices that weren’t all that hushed but still quiet. They didn’t hear my approach.
    The three boys were busy with Tina, busy keeping her still, busy yelling at each other, busy tearing Tina’s T-shirt open, pulling at her white bra, trying to peel down her jeans. They had no idea I was even there till I was upon