Chapter 110

word count 1298

The three men sat at the bar, Hank and Gil with dejected faces and Mark stealing glances at the other two with an uneasy expression. The former two had already explained that the body found was undeniably dead. And Mark, known to them as Mick, faked sorrow at the news of his brother's death. Truth be told, he always hated the guy. It was his pleasure to off him. He was thrilled when Mother told him to do so. He just didn't think anyone would find the body. Leave it to some kids to go snooping around. If Mick didn't want to make the most of their alliances,  he and mother had to get rid of him. And that was that. Now he could step into Mick's shoes and continue the quest.

"I'll never understand women!" Gil blurted out.

"What?" Hank asked. He had his own problems, missing his daughter and being shoved to the sidelines now that she had a man and bigger family in her life.

"Women! I mean, God made women for men, am I right? To take care of us and give us children. He pulled a rib out of Adam and presto, he made Eve."

"I have a feeling you shouldn't say that so loud," Mark countered. Three women at an adjacent table were staring their way with disturbed expressions. One, a blond, tapped her finger on the table with impatience like she was ready to spring out at them any minute.

"I mean, I just saw the damnedest thing! Girl on girl action you wouldn't believe!"

"What?" Hank caught his mug before it spilled.

"Yeah, and both girls were chicks the Gil Machine had already done...many times. Why would they want each other after being romanced by the Gil Machine?"

"Oh, no! Not again with The Gil Machine!" Hank moaned.

What's the Gil Machine? Mark wondered. He wasn't certain what to think but sat tight so as not to blow his cover. Just in case, if Mick were here he would have known.

"Yeah, they were getting it on, like hot, really HOT. I saw them. Neither one of them ever acted that way with me. It makes a man wonder, what the fuck, ya know?"

"I'll tell you this," Hank said. "In my day, men went with women, and that was that. None of this men with men or women with women stuff. And we wanted it that way."

"Guys..." Mark murmured. He could see the ladies at the adjacent table looking increasingly unhappy.

"Yeah, that's what I think. But if a girl wants to get it on with a girl, I don't mind watching." Gil felt his erection bumping in his pants again. Just the thought of girl on girl and the memory of what he saw earlier...

"Well, my generation would have none of it." Hank took a long sip as though to end the conversation.

The three drank in silence until Gil perked up. "Hey, did anyone hear from Buzz? He'd said he'd get back to us. He was going to talk to Mick's family. Oh my gosh, he would have had the wrong info because Mick, you're okay. It was your twin brother, Mark, who died."

"Oh, don't worry! Buzz didn't get to be the boss without knowing how to handle things. I'm sure he'll get it straightened out on his own. And he doesn't owe us any explanation either." Hank took another drink. The less he had to hear from Buzz, the better. 

"Yeah, I guess you are right," Gil said. "It's just as well. I'm too preoccupied with this girly girly business anyway. How the heck can ya get them back in the stable again once they wander off to be with each other?"

At this point, two of the girls from the adjacent table stormed the bar. The blond arrived first. Her blue eyes shooting a dazzling light, lit by anger. She had a simple flair, blond hair with tight curls, a cute mouth, the kind of girl who lived next door, not a supermodel. At the moment, however, her look was haggard.

"Hey, look, buster! You'd better get out of the Dark Ages with your ideas about women!"

"Yeah, what do ya think? We should be barefoot and pregnant all the time!" This time it was the red head. More sophisticated, but in her ire, looking mussed.

"Look, ladies! I meant no offense! Hey, I'm just a stupid man, ya know!" Gil turned on his charm, smiling his piano keyboard grin, hoping to use its magic.

The angry blond, now softened, responded. "Hi fella, I'm Chrissy. I'd like to get to know you and change your ideas. What do ya say?"

"Well, I think we should talk about this at another table."

"I don't think like those other two," Mark said, nodding at Hank and Gil. "Can I buy you a drink and prove it." He held out his hand to the red head who stood next to Chrissy.

She smiled, and the two walked off together.

Hank sat alone, not that he wasn't used to it. Gil was always chasing women and deserting him. He took a long drink from his mug and laid it down.

"Do you mind if I sit here? My friends have left me high and dry."

Hank glanced over to see a middle-aged woman. Dressed in business clothes, she had a grace about her that the younger girls didn't have and never would, such quiet dignity being lost on them. To a generation earlier, modesty and taste were valued and this lady exuded it.

"Sure! I'm in the same boat as you." He nodded toward his chums at the opposite tables.

"Chrissy, Jane, and I always have a drink after work. This happens all too much, I'm afraid."

"Don't you have a hubby at home waiting for you?"

"No, I'm not married. Not now anyway..." Her voice trailed off in a sad tone. "He died three years ago...heart attack."

"We have more in common than you realize. My name is Hank."

"Hi, I'm Stephanie."

***

Dusk was falling and there were no lights turned on in the room. Soon he would be sitting in the dark. And there'd been no food or water in several hours either.

Buzz wiggled his wrists, but the sticky duct tape wouldn't give an inch. If he'd been tied with rope, he would have worked his way free by now, stretching and loosening the fibers with repetitive motion.

But for now, he was stuck. He wondered what part of the city he was in. Arriving here unconscious, he had not idea. Now that it was dark and quiet in the house, he could tune his ears and listen closely. At first he couldn't seem to detect anything because the windows were closed and locked up tight as far as he could see. But with repeated effort and dire concentration, he soon found he could pick up on little sounds.

A distant dog barking, occasional wisps of childish laughter, he felt certain he was in a residential neighborhood. And a little while ago, he'd heard the unmistakable clang of church bells. Now he was searching his memory for area of town that might fill that description.

East, west, north, south, any one of them! And then he heard an ambulance...add a hospital to the mix. That left only one possibility, the area near the university where hospitals abounded, and people lived on adjacent streets and churches lined the avenue.  The ambulance clinched it. Now that he was attuned to their alarming wail, he heard the sirens all the time, cementing his location.

If someone didn't bring some food and water here soon, they'd need one of those ambulances for him.