Rocky Mountain High

Happy Thursday, crime slicksters. It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where the girls are hot, the drinks are cold, and the hardboiled-pulp-noir action is non-stop, right here, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.

In the final chapter of RIDGEWAY, Cate escapes from the cops by running up the mountain on a gravel road that leads to her house, goes inside, sits on the living room couch, exhausted ... then starts counting the cash she made from doing the hit and gets a nasty surprise when a bag of white powder falls out ...


EXT. PARKS AND RECREATION BUILDING - PARKING LOT - NIGHT
A small affair with a gravel road
heading up the mountain behind it.

Cate runs over.
Looks at the sign.

CATE
I don’t fucking believe it.

EXT. FULLER STREET - NIGHT
Spooky in the dim light
coming from houses at the
top of a ridge on either side.

A siren WHOOPS.

Cate JUMPS off the road,
tumbles down into a gulley,
just as another POLICE SUV
comes ROARING by in a
CRUNCH of gravel.

She climbs back up.
Sees it’s gone.

Then starts RUNNING.

EXT. FULLER STREET - MOUNTAIN TOP - NIGHT
Cate makes it to the top, exhausted.
Sees her house on the corner.
Starts trudging toward it.

INT. KAYLA’S APARTMENT - KITCHEN - NIGHT
Cate lurches to the sink.
Splashes cold water on her face.

Leans against the counter.
Every muscle in her body on fire.

Gingerly walks over
to the bedroom doorway.

Sees the lights are out.
And Kayla, sound asleep.

Goes back to the kitchen counter.
Grabs a bottle of whiskey.

Pours a shot. Downs it.
Pours another.

Does a third
for good measure.
Wipes her mouth.

Grabs the bong.
FIRES it up.

Sucks down a big hit.
Holds it in a long beat.

Then BLOWS out the smoke. Sighs.
Grabs the bong. The bottle.
Shot glass. Pads into --

INT. KAYLA’S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Plops down on the couch.
Pulls out the wad of bills.
Starts counting it.

A small glassine envelope
filled with white
powder falls out.

Hits the table
with soft thwap.

CATE
Holy shit.

She dumps it onto
the coffee table.

Cuts a big, fat line.
Leans over. SNORTS it.

Her eyes grow wide.
Then glassy.

CATE
That’s not coke --

FADE TO BLACK