She visited another of the places on Jean-René’s list. It was a small smoke shop a block away. Cam bought two packs of cigarettes and chatted with the owner. She told him she’d recently moved up here from Baltimore because it was getting too hot there.
“And I’m not talking about the weather,” she’d said.
He’d laughed a knowing laugh.
“Is selling cigarettes as hard here as it is in some of the big cities in the States? In some places, the taxes on a pack are higher than price of the pack itself.”
“Nah,” he said. “People have been hearing how bad cigarettes are for you for years but only a few were able to stop. Now the young kids have started. It’s a cool thing like it was in the fifties. You know, to make you look tough.”
“Yup, exactly when they don’t need them.” Cam chuckled to herself. That was sort of why she smoked; it made her feel tough.
“Sure, eh? Folks my age have had them all our lives. Why change now? My wife never touched a cigarette in her life and she died from lung cancer five years ago. Me? I’ve been smoking since I was a teen: almost fifty years. Tell me the medical logic in that one. I guess when your time is up, the good lord will come and get you, unless that devil beats him to ya.”
“I think you’re right,” said Cam as she opened one pack of cigarettes. “But explain to me why people say they prefer cigars because you don’t inhale them? What the fuck is the sense of smoking something if you don’t inhale?”
Cam tapped a cigarette out of the package and lit it.
“Oh, I know them, eh. I don’t understand it, either. You’re right. Why smoke something if you don’t inhale and get the full effect? Like one of your presidents said he had smoked dope but he hadn’t inhaled.”
Cam laughed. “Yes. That was a waste of good weed. I’m glad he was rich enough that he could do that…if he really did. Oh, damn. What I wouldn’t give for a good toke right now.”
“You don’t have any?” He looked at her with a strange question in his eyes.
“I haven’t had pot since I left Baltimore. I’ve had some other stuff that my friend in Montreal brought me, but she doesn’t come out regularly.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Tell me about it.”
“You wouldn’t be looking for a job, would you, eh?”
“No. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay around here,” was Cam’s answer.
“Trying to stay ahead of someone?”
Cam looked up at him suddenly. “What makes you say that?”
“Just a hunch. You don’t look like you’re looking for a place to put down roots, eh.”
“No,” she said, taking a drag on the cigarette. “Not yet.” She picked up all her stuff and put her wallet back in her pocket. Her stance said she was getting ready to leave.
“Well, if you do stay around awhile, drop in again sometime. It’s been nice talking with you.”
“Yes, it has. I’ll be back,” she said as she nodded and walked out the door.
Not sure how much info I’ll get from him, she thought, but he seemed like a sweet old man.
* * * *
The third place, Rosie’s Pub, seemed to have more potential. Cam sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. She swung around to look at the patrons. Some seemed likely to be drug users, but most did not.
Profiling, Cam accused herself. She knew that some who seemed most likely probably had never tried the stuff, while those who didn’t look the part were the worst offenders. You could never tell who used, or who didn’t, except for those hard-core meth users who showed the signs of physical deterioration.
It seemed like your average bar: there were groups of friends intent on cheerful conversation and couples talking happily or seriously to each other. There were two other singles there besides Cam.
A young man of about twenty rushed in and leaned across the bar to get the bartender’s attention. He looked a little disheveled and his eyes were a bit red.
Definitely a stoner, was Cam’s first thought.
He had a questioning stance. The bartender looked over at him and quietly said, “Probably. You know where.”
“Is he there?” the young man asked.
“He was a few minutes ago.”
The kid seemed satisfied and rushed back out of the bar.
Cam watched him leave. When she turned back, the bartender was behind her.
“Can I freshen that up for you?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said. She pushed her glass forward.
He took her glass, tossed the watered-down scotch and ice into the sink, and proceeded to refill it.
Yes, she though, this place seems likely. I’ll have to come back again in a few days.
While she still sat there, a thin, older woman came out of the back room and talked to the bartender. She seemed a little upset.
“What was he doing in here?” she questioned him very softly.
“He was looking for Stuart.”
“Well, if he isn’t where he’s supposed to be, then he’s not around. Tell him that. Tell him to check there first.” She turned and strode back into the back room.
Cam turned her back when the conversation started to make it look like she wasn’t listening; but she was. If that was about what she thought it was, then she’d have to come back another day. She downed the rest of her drink, paid her tab and left a good tip, and walked out.
* * * *
The fourth place Cam visited later that week probably wouldn’t help her. It was a bright bar named Le Crash. The clientele was much too young for her to fit in. Most of the patrons were in their twenties. Few looked older. Someone forty years old probably wouldn’t be trusted. She did meet a young woman who was a bartender-waitress.
“What can I get you?” she asked.
“A beer,” Cam responded. “The darker the better.”
“Will Sam Adams Ale do?”
Cam nodded. “Perfect.” She didn’t usually drink beer but from looking behind the bar, she knew that this place didn’t serve hard liquor. When in Rome…
“Here you go,” the waitress said as she placed a bottle in front of Cam. “You want a glass?”
“No, I’m fine,” Cam responded as she laid down a ten and brought the bottle to her mouth and took a swig.
“You’ve never been in here before, have you?” the waitress said, taking the money to ring up the sale in the cash register. Cam waved away the change. The bartender smiled a sweet, sexy grin as she put the change in her pocket. Her shoulder-length reddish blond hair fell forward over one eye as she tipped her head forward in a thank-you.
“No. I recently moved up here.”
“From where?”
“Baltimore.”
“What brought you to Magog?”
“I needed to get out of the States.”
The waitress looked at Cam with a questioning expression but didn’t say anything else for a few moments. Then she turned away to another customer.
“I’m Laurie,” she announced, stepping back to Cam and holding out her hand.
“And I’m Cameron.” They shook hands. “My friends call me Cam. How do you spell your name? I have a sister with that name but I bet it’s spelled differently.”
“L-A-U-R-I-E.”
“Yes, she spells it L-O-R-I. It’s short for Loring.”
“That’s pretty,” Laurie commented as she pushed her hair back behind her ear.
“Thanks. We all got family names. I’m Cameron and we had a brother named Bennett, and she’s Loring.”
“Had?”
“Yes.” Cam sighed with a frown. “He OD’d when he was in college.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yes, it was hard. I’ve had to watch myself ever since so I don’t OD too.”
“Yes. It would be devastating to have two in a family.” Then Laurie excused herself and went to serve someone else.
Well, at least I’ve established myself so I’m known as a drug-user. Hopef
ully, it’ll lead to something.
Cam watched the clientele. Cam doubted that some of them were in here legally. They looked much too young; much younger than eighteen. They reminded her of the kids in Baltimore that she and Pauly had observed when they were looking for a designer drug that was killing people. The kids in both places didn’t consider that they might be being watched by law officers. They were very open with their booze and drugs.
As Cam took a last gulp of her bottle, Laurie was back.
“Want another?” she asked.
“No, thanks. I’ve got to get going,” Cam answered. “I just stopped in to see what this place was.”
“Come back again sometime. It usually isn’t this dead in here. The weekends really rock.”
Cam smiled. “I’ll remember that. Are you open every night?”
“Yes. We open at four P.M. and close at two A.M. seven nights a week. I’m here Mondays through Fridays and every other Saturday. I’m usually off on the weekends.” She smiled a flirty smile at Cam.
“See you later, then.” Cam nodded as she got up to leave.
As she walked outside, Cam noticed that there were people sitting in some of the cars and others visiting back and forth between them. The parking lot was full of activity. They were probably doing drugs out here so they wouldn’t get caught inside. If they had been adults, Cam might have called Jean-René right away and have the parking lot busted, but these were kids having fun. When she could dry up the source of those drugs, these kids would be out of luck.
Let them have a little fun while they can.
* * * *
“So how did your hunts go today?” Michael asked. She’d gotten home, came into the house, had a shower, and now she’d poured herself a whisky.
“Good,” Cam answered. “I went into this little teeny-bopper bar and established myself.”
“A teeny-bopper bar?”
“Well, not really, but it felt that way. I don’t think there was another person there over thirty. Most were barely legal. The bartender looked like she’d have to stretch to get to twenty. I think she wanted to make a pass at me.”
“Why didn’t you take her up on it? You might have learned something.” Michael laughed.
“About what? Drugs? Being twenty? I’ve already been twenty. It wasn’t a lot of fun.”
“You never know. You could get into a drug family.”
“As what? The Mother? I doubt the things I want to learn were in that bar.” She looked Michael directly in her eyes. “What I want to learn I’d have to find closer to home.” Cam flicked her eyebrow suggestively.
“Am I going to have to conduct another class tonight?”
“You might.”
“Then come out to the kitchen and I’ll teach you how to cook dinner.”
Cam’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling as she let out a disgusted sigh. “That’s not what I want to study,” she exclaimed. “The kitchen is of no use to me. If I need something to eat there are many, many people out there that cook much better than I ever will.”
“Can you pay for a meal without cash?”
“I bet I could.”
“Let’s see what the payment would be like. Then I’ll decide how much I’ll cook.”
She grabbed Cam’s hand and pulled her to her feet, up the stairs, and into the bedroom.
“Nice classroom,” muttered Cam as Michael pulled her shirt up over her head. In a flash, they were both naked and on the bed.
“Did I tell you today how much I love you?” Michael asked, looking down into Cam’s eyes.
“Yes, you told me this morning, but I’d like to hear it again.” The look on Cam’s face told Michael how much she loved her.
“Why don’t I show you?” Michael asked, as her hand started down Cam’s body and her mouth took Cam’s. There was no more talk for quite a while.
Chapter 9
“How are you doing today?” the bartender asked. His name badge read Ted. “Is this becoming your home?” He smiled at her.
“It seems so,” she acknowledged. “I’ve been looking for something around town but I haven’t found it yet.”
“What’cha looking for?” he asked as he wiped down the long bar.
“Something to keep me awake and something to help me sleep,” she equivocated.
“Tall order,” he said. “There’s a pharmacy two blocks down.”
“No, they don’t have what I want,” Cam muttered, shaking her head. “I haven’t had any good sleep since I moved up here.”
He gave the bar one last swipe and then turned back to Cam.
“Do you live in Magog?” he asked.
“I’m staying at a place near the lake in Vermont,” she answered. “Magog is more interesting than Newport.”
“I like Magog better,” he said. “Of course, I may be prejudiced.”
“Did you grow up around here?”
“Born and raised about twenty miles from here,” was his answer.
Can nodded her understanding. “I’d love to check out some of the property around there. I need to get something more permanent. I don’t like landlords checking everything I do.”
“I know that feeling,” Ted growled.
“I’m beginning to like this area, too, but there hasn’t been time enough to walk around and look for places. I’ve been checking newspaper ads, but there hasn’t been anything interesting.”
“You’ll get something,” Ted said as encouragement. “There are a lot of places around here. You just have to find them.”
“I hope so.”
“It’s beginning to get to the hot season.” He studied her. “I’m sure there are lots of things out there that might interest you.”
“Hot season? I’m from Baltimore. Now that’s a hot season, and it lasts much too long there. I came north to get away from it.”
“Well, it’s hot for here.” Ted sighed as explanation. “The only water we got is the lake. The hot air gets caught here and won’t move.” He smiled at her. “It’s actually the perfect place to live.”
“That’s what my friend said.”
The bartender looked surprised. “Do you have family?”
Cam shook her head. “No, not here. I have a friend that comes out from Montreal every now and then. I was looking for some solitude. I got tired of big cities.”
He chuckled. “Yes, I guess you can’t get much solitude in a city like Baltimore.”
Cam shook her head and took another sip of her drink.
Ted nodded to her and went to serve another customer.
Hmmm, she thought. If he knows what’s happening around here, he’ll probably be very useful. Maybe it’s time to ask the right questions.
Cam spun around on the stool to observe the clientele. This early in the afternoon; barely after 3:30, and the clientele was very mixed. There were a couple of serious drinkers, a few blue-collar workers who had been up since before sunrise and needed the break at the end of their day, and a table of business people in a deep discussion.
When Ted returned she asked softly, “You wouldn’t happen to know where I could get some ice, would you?”
He looked at her strangely. “For your drink?”
Cam chuckled. “Yes. For my drink.” She shook her head and grinned at him.
He looked back at her questioningly.
“My friend, Molly, gets me some stuff in Montreal but she hasn’t been out here lately.”
Ted looked at her thoughtfully. “Write your name and number down and I’ll get in touch with you if I hear of anything.” He reached under the bar and handed her a notebook and a pen.
“Do you really think you can find me something?” she asked.
“I’ll try.”
Cam carefully wrote her name and phone number in the book.
* * * *
Four days later, on a Monday afternoon, Cam sat at the same bar nursing a drink. Ted had greeted her like an old friend, even remembering her name.
“How’ve you been doi
ng, Cameron?” he asked.
“As good as can be expected, I guess,” she replied. “My friend hasn’t been able to get here this week so, I guess I’m stuck with scotch.” That seems like a good excuse, she thought. At least it gives me a reason to be here.
He stepped back and studied her. Cam got a little unsettled under the scrutiny. What is he looking for?
“Hang on right here,” he said. “There may be something to help you.”
He tossed the bar towel under the sink and walked through the door at the back of the bar. A minute later he was back. Behind him came an older man. He sat on the stool beside Cam.
“How do you do, Ms. Andrews?” he asked, extending his hand. “I’m Darren Morris.”
“A pleasure, Mr. Morris.” Cam reached to accept the handshake.
“Ted tells me you used to be a Baltimore cop.”
Cam looked at Ted who was drying glasses.
“How did you know that?” she asked Ted.
“I do my homework,” he said. “You were, weren’t you?”
“Was,” Cam stated. “Past tense.”
“Did you like it?” he asked.
“It was a job. It didn’t pay that much, though.”
“So you had to find alternate income?” He waited while Cam sat there, not responding to his question. “Ted showed me the information that was on the web,” Darren explained.
Cam sighed. “Oh, yes.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Yes, me, too.”
Darren patted her on the shoulder. “That’s all right. We’ve all had things happen to us that we didn’t want.”
“It was stupid.”
“Everyone makes mistakes.”
“Stupid I got caught,” she mumbled.
Darren waited a moment. “I understand you’ve been looking for things around town.”
Cam nodded. “I don’t want to have to go all the way back to Baltimore for a refill.”
“Yes. Baltimore is a long ways away.”
“I hope so. I need to rid myself of the whole thought of Baltimore, and of Maryland. That whole area, in fact.”
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