The Last Call

Detective Rachel Price stared at the flickering neon sign of the Blue Note Bar, its colors bleeding into the night. It was just after midnight, and the streets were slick from the rain. Inside, jazz music played softly, a stark contrast to the tension outside. Rachel had been called to investigate a murder that had happened just hours ago—a well-known local musician, Tommy “Jazz” Carter, had been found dead in the alley behind the bar.

“Detective, over here!” Officer Ramirez beckoned her over. He stood next to a small crowd of onlookers, all craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the scene.

Rachel stepped past them, her eyes locking onto the body. Tommy lay sprawled against the wet pavement, a saxophone case beside him. A single bullet wound to his chest painted the concrete red.

“Any witnesses?” she asked, glancing around.

“Just a few patrons who left the bar earlier. They didn’t see anything, but they heard a gunshot,” Ramirez replied, his brow furrowed. “And this.” He handed her a crumpled piece of paper.

Rachel unfolded it, revealing a hastily scrawled note. Meet me at the usual spot. We need to talk about the deal.

“Could be connected,” she said, her instincts kicking in. “Let’s talk to the bartender.”

Inside the Blue Note, the atmosphere was thick with smoke and melancholy. Rachel approached a weary-looking bartender polishing glasses.

“I need to ask you about Tommy Carter,” she said, her tone firm but gentle. “What can you tell me?”

The bartender sighed, glancing around nervously. “He was in here earlier, drinking with a couple of guys. They seemed agitated, but I didn’t think much of it. You know how it is—musicians get passionate.”

“Who were they?” Rachel pressed.

“I don’t know their names, but they were tough-looking. One had a tattoo on his neck, like a snake,” he said, his eyes darting toward the door. “They left just before Tommy did.”

Rachel nodded, her mind racing. “Did Tommy say anything before he left? Anything about a deal?”

The bartender hesitated. “Just that he was trying to get out of something. He didn’t want to get involved in any trouble, but…he owed money to some bad people.”

“Bad people?” Rachel asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I heard rumors. There’s a crew around here that doesn’t take kindly to debts. They can be…aggressive,” the bartender said, shivering at the thought.

Rachel’s phone buzzed, breaking the tension. She glanced at the screen—it was a message from Ramirez. Found something on Tommy’s phone. Head to the station.

“Thanks for your help,” she said, tossing a few bills on the bar. She hurried outside, the rain picking up again, drenching her as she rushed to her car.

At the station, Ramirez stood by a desk, holding Tommy’s phone. “Check this out,” he said, his eyes wide. “We found a series of texts.”

Rachel leaned in, reading the messages. They detailed meetings and threats, ending with a message that sent chills down her spine: You have until midnight. Pay up or else.

“Looks like Tommy was in deep,” she murmured.

“Yeah, and it’s not just about the money,” Ramirez added, pointing to the final message. “He was trying to warn someone. A girl named Lila.”

“Let’s find her,” Rachel said, her heart racing. “She might be in danger.”

They tracked Lila down to an apartment a few blocks away. As they knocked on the door, Rachel felt the weight of the situation settle heavily on her shoulders. They needed to find her before it was too late.

The door creaked open, revealing a frightened young woman. “Detectives? What’s going on?”

“Lila, we need to talk,” Rachel said, stepping inside. “It’s about Tommy.”

“Is he okay?” Lila’s voice trembled.

Rachel exchanged a glance with Ramirez, knowing the truth would shatter her. “He’s dead.”

Lila’s face went pale. “What? No, no! He was just trying to protect me! He said he’d get out!”

“Do you know who he was involved with?” Rachel asked gently.

“He was mixed up with some gang. They were threatening him,” Lila sobbed. “He wanted to leave that life behind!”

Rachel’s mind raced. “Did he mention a meeting? Anything that could help us?”

Lila hesitated, then nodded. “He said he was supposed to meet them at the old warehouse on 4th Street tonight.”

“Let’s go,” Rachel said, urgency in her voice. They had to find the crew before they could hurt anyone else.

As they rushed to the warehouse, Rachel knew the clock was ticking. Tommy’s last call had been a plea for help, and now it was up to her to ensure that his death wasn’t in vain.