A Whiskey Sour Wipeout Page 2

  Ida snarked, “Really, you don’t know who that is?”

  Dog raised his eyebrows. “Am I supposed to?”

  Ida chuckled. “No, I guess not.”

  Piper slapped her forehead. “I think this conversation is shrinking my brain.”

  Tom asked, “Who is Harry Connick? And why should we care?”

  I threw my head back. “Dad, forget it. I was just trying to have a little fun with Dog.”

  Dog hung his head and talked to the beer in front of him. “Why couldn’t Star see just a little more in that dream.”

  Bones yelled from the back. “What about Harry Houdini?”

  Tom spun and glared at the order window. He considered yelling at the young grill cook, but decided to play along. “And what about Harry Belafonte.”

  Ida added, “And Harry Chapin.”

  Digger tried. “Harry Manilow.” Oh Lordy!

  The chatter fell quiet and I was not sure where or who to look at.

  Piper corrected. “Digger, I believe you meant Barry Manilow. But thanks for playing.”

  The giggles made Digger turn red. “I should just keep my mouth shut. I make it too easy for y’all to make fun of me.”

  I consoled him. “We’re not making fun of you. Just having a little fun.”

  Digger grunted. “Yeah, at my expense.”

  “Hey Digger, I love the deep voice of that singer Harry White!” Ida barely got the sentence out with all the tittering.

  The chuckling became infectious and soon the pub was a roar of laughter. It was so loud Dog Breath almost didn’t hear the sound. His phone was ringing.

  Dog pulled the noisy thing from his pocket and answered. “Guard Dog Custom Motorcycles... Yeah, this is Jimmy Bell... What? Lugnut? How did it happen?... Heart attack, that’s awful... Thanks for calling.” Then he clicked off.

  After putting the phone back in his pocket. He glanced around and I could see he was white. Everyone else must have seen, too, because the pub became quiet. I asked, “Dog, what was that all about?”

  “My best friend from the motor pool in ‘Nam died. We called him Lugnut. He and I did everything together over there. He even gave me the name Dog Breath.” Dog’s voice was soft and choppy. He dropped his chin a little.

  “I’m so sorry, buddy.” Guardrail put his arm around his business partner.

  “We all are. Is there anything we can do?” Dixie moved over to him and gently caressed his hand on the bar.

  Dog raised his chin up. “That’s not the worst of it. I never even put two and two together. Lugnut’s real name was Harry Campbell.”

  Dixie took two steps back. “Star’s dream is coming true.”

  Chapter Three

  “What am I doing?!” Slick scolded himself as he hoisted himself up and over the living room window sill. He knew this window would be unlocked, but it was six feet up off the ground. The inverted five-gallon pail he found served as a step, but it still took some work to pull his old body up into the window opening. He should have brought a ladder or step stool.

  Breaking and entering was a new adventure for him. Slick pushed paper for a living in an office. He had always been a desk jockey, even when serving as a clerk in the motor pool in Vietnam.

  “What the...” Slick tripped on a pile of old Playboys and laughed out loud. Lugnut always liked the ladies, but this was an odd spot for a pile of magazines. Then Slick realized this was just one of three piles. Guess Lugnut had been collecting them for a while. “I can’t believe Bianca agreed to this.” Slick was not sure why he was talking to himself, but he guessed it might be his way of coping with the nerves.

  Slick took out the flashlight he brought and clicked it on. Nothing. He banged the base of the dark torch with his free hand. Nothing. “Only I can take a flashlight to a break in that has dead batteries.”

  Unscrewing the base of the stubborn flashlight, he took out the D batteries and one was leaking. Before he could cuss, he saw a flashlight on Lugnut’s coffee table. Sometimes luck is on your side. He grabbed the tactical flashlight off the coffee table and threw the switch. A beam of light burst forth. Slick was back in business.

  Then he moved into the bedroom cautiously. Slick knew the place should be empty. Bianca, Lugnut’s wife, had gone to stay with her sister after the heart attack. She took Lugnut’s death hard, and didn't want to be in a house full of reminders.

  He had no plausible reason to be in Lugnut’s house, so it was best to keep a low profile to keep a nosy neighbor or someone else from noticing his presence. He kept telling himself better safe than sorry.

  On entering the master bedroom, he saw the bed was made and the window was cracked to let in fresh air. “Ah, come on. I could have just come in this window instead. It’s so much closer to the ground.”

  After lodging the complaint with himself, he began his search. He wasn't sure, but Lugnut’s heart attack didn't sit right with him. Something else was going on, he was sure of it. And he was here to get the proof.

  He checked the dresser and was surprised how clean and neat it was. This was clearly one of Bianca’s claimed spots and he admired the pretty jewelry box perched on a doily in the center of the dresser top. He didn't know why, it must have been simple curiosity, but he opened it. It was mostly empty and he wasn't surprised. Neither he nor Lugnut ever made much money, but they got by. He closed the lid, leaving the contents undisturbed.

  Next, he checked the night stands but came up empty. Slick stood straight and rubbed his forehead with his eyes closed. “Think, you dummy. Where would Lugnut keep them?”

  Slick's eyes popped open and he headed straight for the small half bath off the bedroom. It was an example of organized chaos. Toiletries, toothbrushes, and vitamin bottles occupied every flat surface. He had some work to do, so he began looking. He started with bottles of vitamins and looked at each bottle, one by one, till he spotted a small bottle and picked it up. He shone the beam from his hand-held tactile light onto it and read the label. “That’s the one.” He then put the bottle in his pocket and headed for the kitchen.

  Once in the kitchen he stood in the center and collected his thoughts. “If he thinks like me, and I know he does, he would have it tacked to the fridge with a magnet.” Slick found the fridge and scanned the numerous pieces of paper held there by dozens of magnets. At one particular note, he stopped and read it slowly. “Bingo!”

  Slick took the note and put it in his pocket along with the small bottle. Then he ran his eyes over the place one more time. What was he forgetting? While he was here, might as well get all that he could.

  Then the kitchen lit up with headlights from a car. He crouched down to hide and peeked out the window, covertly. He saw a car pulling into Lugnut’s driveway. This was not good.

  Slick made a beeline for the broom closet. He quietly climbed in and turned off the flashlight. Then he closed the door, leaving it cracked a half inch so he could see whoever came into the house.

  As he leaned to peek out from his hiding spot, the ironing board fell over smacking him in the back. Slick almost fainted. This was not in the plan and he hated being trapped, but what other choice was there.

  LINZI HOWARD PUT THE key in the lock and opened the door. She should not be doing this, but she had to retrieve the bottle. Besides, she had previously offered to help the family make the funeral arrangements and they had given her the key to the place to keep an eye on it. So, if anyone did see her, she had an excuse to be here.

  She tried to keep quiet and avoided turning on the lights. It served no purpose to call more attention to her presence than necessary. But the stealthy plan proved to be a mistake when she banged her knee on the coffee table. Linzi cussed under her breath and hopped on one leg around the living room, while grabbing her aching knee.

  “Son of a... I told him a hundred times to move that stinking thing. And who needs a coffee table that big!” Linzi squinted in the dark to see that she had knocked a number of empty beer bottles over onto the floor. “I
don’t know what I saw in him. What a slob. He never picked up after himself.” She scanned the scene one more time. “Come to think of it, what was he doing drinking this much beer. He never listened to anyone. I can’t believe his sorry excuse for a wife would let him do that!” She shook her head at all the beer bottles.

  Linzi then sat on the couch and turned on one of the table lamps in the living room to examine her knee. She was bleeding but she would live. However, she now walked more slowly, and with a slight limp. Despite the injury, she went back to it and kept on moving. She had a job to do and the sooner it was completed, the better.

  SLICK WATCHED HER FROM his hiding spot in the nearby broom closet. Linzi wore her scrubs and still had her name tag pinned on her chest. She clearly was coming home from work. Was she looking for the same thing he was?

  Linzi headed for the master bedroom and Slick lost sight of her. But he did hear her cussing and sounds that indicated she was throwing things on the floor in the master bathroom. Apparently, she could not find what she came for.

  Then she stormed back into the living room. She tossed everything on the coffee and end tables, frantically looking for something. But, she didn't appear to find it.

  She stood up straight and shouted at the ceiling. “Where did you put it, you good for nothing liar.”

  Slick put his hand over his mouth to stop from laughing. He was now certain he beat her to the goods by just a few minutes. Maybe he was not a professional break-in artist, but he sure beat her to the punch on this one.

  Linzi went into the bedroom again, and from the sounds Slick heard, he guessed she was ransacking the half bath. After five minutes, she emerged once again in the living room. And it was not good. She was smiling and fussed with her hair. She always pushed the loose locks from her face using the back of her hand when she was being smug, just like she was doing now. She must have found what she was looking for.

  Slick could feel his heart rate speed up and he tried to stop the heavy breathing. He was sure she might hear him wheezing with anxiety in the closet. But, Linzi didn't take long to turn off the table light she turned on earlier, and left in a hurry. She hadn't even bothered to pick up the bottles or any of the items she'd knocked over or tossed on the floor during her search.

  Now Slick was alone again. And he needed to think. What did she find? What did he miss? Slick still had some work to do and went back to search Lugnut’s place one more time. This was going to be harder than he thought and maybe he should get someone to help. He was coming to realize that he was well out of his element.

  Chapter Four

  Star flipped the sign on the front door to display “closed,” then locked the main entrance. She was glad this day was coming to an end. Nothing went right and she could not escape the feeling that something was off.

  While performing a reading for a customer, she stumbled to see things clearly. For the first time, Star’s abilities alluded her and the confidence she normally had was lacking in her session with a good client.

  Then the coffeemaker broke. Star saved for a while to get one of the fancy pod devices. She always wanted to have a fresh, quality cup of coffee at anytime with just the push of a button. But the pump on her new unit gave out before it was even a month old. She hoped it was still under warranty.

  On top of the broken appliance, the pen she forgot about in her purse leaked, and ink on her fingers somehow managed to get on her favorite dress. Now it had two big, blue spots she knew would not come out.

  And if that wasn't enough, the toilet started to run uncontrollably. Star called a plumber since it took her a few minutes to figure out how to simply turn off the water to the toilet. And now she was forced to turn the water supply on, and then off, every time she used the bathroom. She already missed the convenience of just flushing.

  But the work day was over and Star needed to tidy things up a bit. She started by putting away the Tarot cards. Then she moved on to cleaning the plastic cups and napkins off the big table that occupied the center of her new age shop. After everything was in its place, she grabbed her ink filled purse and headed for the back door.

  She exited as usual, locked the back door and headed for her car. Everyone has a bad day every now and then, and this was one of hers. It was a doozy, but now, it was over.

  On entering her small apartment, the black cat named Morgan le Fay meowed profusely while circling a dish on the floor. Star immediately noticed the empty food bowl, so she opened a fresh can of food and fed it to Morgan.

  She grimaced while removing the ink blot dress and put it on top of the hamper to bring to the dry cleaners. It was worth asking the pros if they thought it was salvageable, but she already knew the answer.

  Then she threw on her robe. She was ready for a long, hot shower. But her hunger overruled, so a quick snack was in order before washing.

  The only thing she had that was quick was some toaster tarts. So, she threw in a couple of hot fudge sundae. Chocolate, the day was looking up.

  She plunked down on the couch to wait for her toaster pastries to cook. While she waited, she opened the mail. Turned out she must've forgotten to pay the water bill last month and now she was overdue. She scowled at the piece of paper like it was lying, then flung it on the coffee table. Seems the bad day was not over yet.

  Then the toaster caught on fire. The flames shot out like a fire cracker. Star grabbed the spray nozzle from the sink and put the flames out. Now, she had a smoke-filled apartment with a water-soaked kitchen floor. That is when the smoke alarm went off. Seems her chocolate treat was not meant to be.

  The incident was the last straw and Star felt the tears well up in her eyes. But she gritted her teeth, opened a window, and fanned the white, round puck shaped smoke alarm till the fresh air caused it to fall silent.

  She knew that she needed something to settle her rattled set of nerves and decided, just like her water bill, the shower was overdue. So, she headed for the bathroom.

  Star started her routine and went to grab a clean towel. Turns out, she had none and she actually chuckled a little at the predicament. It was not that big a deal and it just meant it was time to do laundry. Besides, she could just find the least dirty towel, fluff it up, and roll it up to make it seem like a clean towel from a high-class spa.

  Part of her knew she was making excuses, trying to justify cutting corners to get through her horrible day. But what else was there to do, sometimes you just have to do what you must and move on.

  Morgan found her while she was folding the dirty towel and rubbed on her legs. It was funny how the feeling of a cat grazing her calves could be so soothing to her, and annoying, all at the same time.

  Star put the neatly rolled towel on the corner of the vanity and reached down to pet the kitty. But she didn't raise her head and purr, instead the cat sprinted off to the kitchen. It was odd, so she gave chase to see what was so urgent for her feline friend.

  Once in the kitchen, she saw Morgan check her water bowl. It was empty and she must have missed it when she filled the food bowl. Star felt guilty and poured a saucer of milk and put it down for her pet. She asked herself out loud, “How could I miss her empty water bowl?”

  Star was now certain. Something was trying to get her attention, but she had no idea what it was. But she could no longer deny it, she was distracted. This was something she never experienced before and she struggled to put the pieces together.

  After taking a deep breath, she forced herself to gain control of the situation and it was finally time to shower. Just the thought of the warm water washing over her made her feel a little better. She headed once again for the bathroom.

  She nudged the shower curtain aside just enough to reach in and feel for the water knobs. She turned on the water, then waited for the hot water to arrive. She loved her apartment, but the hot water took too long to get to the shower. In the meantime, she may as well get things ready and she laid out the toiletries she would need after washing.

  Morgan show
ed up while she made sure there was toothpaste. After all the things that went wrong today, double checking everything seemed like a good idea. And the cat must have wanted to help, because it jumped up on the vanity to see what she was doing.

  Star was too frazzled from the day’s events that it was no use shooing Morgan away. She just left her there next to the sink, then lost the robe and zipped open the shower curtain.

  It was impossible to tell which was louder, her screams or the cat's snarling and hissing. Both were reacting to the apparition in front of them. The ghost was a man floating in the middle of her shower. He was holding his chest from what Star could tell. But it was hard because a strange, bright light blared from her shower and almost obscured the floating apparition.

  With one last burst of light, Star thought she heard a few words followed by nothing. It all disappeared. The words rattled in her brain for a minute, then it felt like she recognized them. The spirit may have said, “Help Dog Breath.”

  Through shear will, Star closed her eyes and forced herself to settle down. When she reopened her eyelids, the first thing she realized was Morgan had exited the tiny bathroom and she was alone. Star guessed the cat was hiding under the bed. And that is when she grasped she was standing there naked, shivering.

  Star grabbed her robe and threw it back on. Then she headed into the bedroom. Star needed to get dressed and find Dog Breath, now. Things were happening in the spirit world and Dog was at the center of it all. And he was in danger. It was the only way to explain this spirit becoming so bold.

  Chapter Five

  Digger and Guardrail tried their best to console Dog Breath. But it was futile. The sight of his friends offering support warmed my heart, and my concern for him dominated my thoughts.

  I instinctively used my soft, understanding voice, “Dog, we are all sorry that you lost your friend. Is there anything we can do?