The band was starting to rehearse, and BlackNMild was nowhere to be found. I was starting to get a little pissed, but then I saw one of his girls come into the club alone, searching for him.
I headed back to his private cabana, but I was too late. I found his head in a laundry basket with another one of the girls just standing over it, staring. There was an empty glass by the bed, so I curiously sniffed it. "That amateur still drank this stuff until his dying breath? It was hopeless anyways."
I realized then that his body was actually nowhere to be found. I called the police to report the murder, but they claimed they already knew and that it had been reported in the morning paper. (Who still reads the newspaper in this town?)
"If you knew about this, why didn't you recover the body?"
"Oh the body's here in the morgue"
"If his body is there, why is his head still at the crime scene?"
"It is? ......Well that's it!! I knew the body felt a little lighter, but I just couldn't think of what was missing"
"Well, we executed Wandering last night. I bet he's the guy that killed your singer."
Wandering was too weak and too high to be a threat to anyone. My confidence for the justice system and my own safety was at an all-time low.