Dead and Gone

by Tina Glasneck

  The door swung open, rescuing me from having to continue. Kay ran over to welcome Terrance. “Excuse me, someone I’m scheduled to meet has arrived. It was great catching up with you, Nicky…Georgie.” I gave Georgie a smile. “If you have your ball, I’ll be glad to play catch later.”

  “Cool,” he said, scrambling up after planting a kiss on Twinkles’ head, then headed out the door. His father shifted off the stool and followed him out, leaving a wake of disgust as he went. I’d need to fumigate. I moved to the back of the bar to grab a can of Lysol.

  Just as the door was about to swing shut, Nicky stuck his head back around the crack. “With that whole ship analogy that you aren’t happy with, you should know the storm is rising. There’s nothing you can do to stop it.” The door slammed and Kay rolled her eyes so far up into her head she could see gray matter.

  “What the hell was that? Sounded like he was threatening you,” Terrance said.

  “Meh,” I said, and headed over to give Terrance a hug. “This is a wonderful and perfectly timed surprise. You must have been in the neighborhood to show up so quickly.”

  He took the seat recently vacated by Nicky while I sprayed the disinfectant.

  “I was up the block at Kay’s office. I’d dropped in to say hi to her, see if she didn’t want to grab a bite to eat, but she wasn’t there. And boom, I get your text.” Terrance turned to study the mannequin. “That’s just freaky.”

  “Her name is Daphne,” Kay said.

  I moved over to set the Lysol on the bar, then sat down next to Terrance. “I was hoping to use her as a draw somehow. What I was really hoping was that you might have an idea or two how I could do that.”

  “She should make social media go nuts!” Terrance leaned forward to look closer at Daphne. “She’s so lifelike, it’s crazy.” He reached out and flicked Daphne on the cheek, just like I had. Reassured this wasn’t some kind of complex joke, he sat back and contemplated her. “I think we can spin it,” he said after a long minute. “The Mannequin Challenge is all the rage now. Maybe you can do a short video and post it on social media, something like, ‘Can you spot the mannequin?’ Throw Hooch’s name in and the street…”

  “Do you think that something so simple would draw a crowd?” Kay asked.

  “It drew me here,” he said. He stared at Kay and their eyes held. Kay’s cheeks flushed, and I saw how much that affected Terrance. They belonged together. They loved each other. But somehow, they could never get the puzzle pieces to fit properly.

  “Well, I’m sure you were beckoned by the warm-blooded woman here, not this thing,” I said. “But while you’re here, it would be great if you could help me figure a way to get Daphne to solve my financial woes.”

  “Yeah, Hooch’s is now Bobbi Jax’s,” Kay said. “She needs the best, and most affordable way to get bodies in these seats.”

  “Congrats BJ. I think we should toast to your new role and to your future success,” he said drumming his hands on the bar. “Do you still have that Badge Bunny Booze?”

  “Coming right up,” I scooted around and poured him a tumbler.

  He took a thoughtful sip, then said, “This scotch is so smooth.” He smacked his lips. “And there’s a subtle undertone. What is that?”

  Kay and I looked at each other and grinned. “Cherries and thyme,” Kay said.

  “I can tell there’s a story behind that recipe.” He wiggled his brow. “I bet it’s a good one too.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, but I swore an oath never to reveal the origins.”

  Terrance lifted his glass to Daphne. “Sláinte,” he said, wishing her good health in Irish. “Okay, having Daphne here is a good start, but you need to play it up more. Make it a contest and have a winner get a date with the mannequin...”

  I tipped my head. I wasn’t sure I trusted Daphne going on a date with a stranger.

  “I’m just throwing out ideas,” he said.

  I nodded and sat quietly, letting his creative mind churn.

  “Nope,” he said. “Maybe?” He put his hands over his eyes then opened them like a peek-a-boo reveal. “Don’t be lonely tonight. Or, here.” He handed Kay his phone. “Snap a picture with me and what did you call her?”

  “Daphne,” Kay said, taking the phone and framing the picture.

  “Yeah, Daphne. I’ll put it online with the tag, ‘Come on down and meet the bunny behind those Badge Bunny blues?’”

  “For that you get another one on the house.” I poured another finger of scotch into his empty glass. “But Kay has to drive you home and tuck you into bed to make sure you get there safely.”

  “I’m down with that.” Terrance grinned as he lifted the tumbler to his lips.

  Kay was giving me a stink face. What can I say? I was a friend looking out for her best interests.

  The door opened, and I expected it to be Nicky again. In walked a deputy sheriff in a brown uniform, wearing his campaign hat. The large brim hid part of his handsome face, but the uniform was a put-off. I liked my guys in blue. His badge still gleamed, but it didn’t do anything for me. Brown was a downer color. As he walked toward us, I thought that calling Peter was getting higher and higher on my list of things to do.

  “Is James Bradly in?” the deputy asked.

  “Sorry, but he’s on vacation. I’m the manager left in charge, though.”

  “And your name?”

  “Roberta Reid.”

  His eye caught on Daphne. He moved over and stared at her. I could see the cogs whirling.

  I watched him closely.

  He reached out and flicked her cheek.

  I could tell that something about this mannequin was pulling at him, and he was rumbling around in his brain trying to figure out what.

  He lifted his finger and wagged it at her, then turned his head a bit and looked out of the corner of his eye, then shook his head.

  “Does she look familiar?” I asked, half-hoping he had an explanation. The other half was hoping he didn’t and wouldn’t take her away. Good angel. Bad angel.

  “She does. If she were human, I’d swear I’ve seen her before, I just can’t remember where. That’s a little freaky.”

  He held out an envelope and I reflexively took it.

  He tipped his hat. “You’ve been served. Thank you, ma’am.” He moved back out the door with a deputized swagger, and I pouted reading the words in large print: CITATION.

  “What the hell is this about?” I asked, as the door swung shut behind him.

  Kay came over and took it from my hands and read it over.

  “Well, this didn’t take long. Seems as if Hooch’s is now under investigation. The ABC— Alcohol Beverage Control—is going to want to see your accounting books, Bobbi Jax. Sounds like you’ll be getting some unscheduled law enforcement visits as well.”

  I pushed my hair out of my face and frowned. “That might be nice. I did want to make this place a refuge for the boys in blue.” My remark fell flat. There was nothing positive about this turn of events.

  “Yeah, but if they find something, you’re looking at fines, misdemeanor charges, and possibly losing the bar completely.”

  “What are they accusing me of?” I moved over and positioned myself cheek to cheek with Kay so I could read over her shoulder.

  “Here. They say that you’ve been serving underage drinkers.” She ran her finger under the words she was deciphering out of legal-ese for me. “And serving alcohol that isn’t labeled.”

  “That’s preposterous.” I scrunched my brows together. “Do you think Nicky’s behind this?” I asked. “Everyone who’s been hanging out at the bar lately has been as old as my grandpa. I actually need to attract a younger crowd, the newbies just out of the academy so I can start them on a lifelong loyalty kick with Hooch’s.”

  “We need to get this bar pumping this weekend,” Terrance said.

  “Agreed. Because if they come after me in earnest, I’m going to need money to either pay a fine or potentially to bail me out of a c
ell.” I could feel the stress tightening my muscles. I needed some relief that would come in a Peter package. Or to phrase it more precisely, Peter’s package. “I’m going to let you two catch up. I have to make a call.”

  I pulled Peter’s contact up: Are you on duty? I’m wondering if you wanted to pick up where we left off, I texted.

  Peter: YOU left off. You dropped me like I was hot.

  BJ: You ARE hot ;) and I’ve been thinking about you. HARD.

  Peter: I’m on duty in an hour. Where are you?

  BJ: In the back room at the bar, feeling lonely and deprived.

  Peter: I can be there in five minutes.

  BJ: Are you dressed for work? Is your tool belt in place?

  Peter: I was just sitting here wishing I had a good place to put my tool.

  BJ: Maybe I could help you out :D

  Peter: Give me ten and I’ll be ready for you, my badge all shined up.

  BJ: Make it seven and I’ll shine your badge for you ;)

  8

  I yawned and stretched and checked the clock. Noon. No wonder Twinkles was whining by the door with his legs crossed. I swung my covers off and planted my feet on the floor. Going to bed at four a.m. didn’t work great with my biorhythms. Just sayin’.

  Last night a rowdy bunch of college boys came in around one. They made a mess and left at closing. I wasn’t complaining. They had a mighty big bar tab that was a pleasure to ring up. But Joe was hacking up a lung, and I didn’t have enough alcohol in the bar to kill whatever virus was taking over his sinus cavities. I sent him home as soon as I locked the doors at two a.m.

  Usually after the bar closed at two, Hooch told me to go right home. I was going to have to get used to later hours now that Hooch was gone. He and Joe had been the ones who finished up after closing, since Hooch didn’t like me out until the wee hours of the morning. I didn’t like to be out until the wee hours of the morning either—even if I had Twinkles with me.

  Two-thirty to ten-thirty worked out great for me and my beauty sleep. Four a.m. to noon, though, and I looked like a horror show. Bags under my eyes, frighteningly pale skin, and hair from hell. I didn’t deserve this, I thought as I examined myself in the mirror. I looked like I’d just woken up from a bender, and I hadn’t had a single sip of booze. Funny how alcohol becomes a turn-off after you’ve cleaned up someone’s emptied stomach enough times after they missed the john.

  John…I haven’t called him in a while. I wonder what he’s up to. What I really wondered was if he was still dating Amy-what’s-her-name or if he might be single again…

  I puffed out some air and forced myself to stand. My muscles ached. My bones groaned. This was ridiculous. I’d just turned twenty-two. You’d have thought I was ready for a nursing home the way my body was complaining.

  Yeah, four o’clock was going to take some getting used to. At least I had Twinkles to keep me safe. I looked over at where he laid by the door with his tongue lolling out, dripping dog slobber on the floor.

  Twinkles as a guard dog was a little bit of Russian roulette with my safety. I thought that he was probably more into the atmospherics of a threat than being an actual threat. Twinkles worked that angle to the max. He’d lift his lips to show just a peek of his ferocious, white, doggy canines. Menace rumbled around his gonads where it picked up a shot of testosterone. It slid up his throat, over his vocal chords, and thundered out in a growl. That usually caused the person he focused on a good dose of fear paralysis and maybe a couple drops of pee.

  Speaking of pee… I shuffled toward the bathroom. “Me first. I’ll take you in a second,” I told Twinkles when he bounced his nose on the strand of bells tied to my front door handle, his alert that he needed to go.

  I slogged through the bathroom door, not bothering to close it behind me. I’ve never actually seen Twinkles leap into action. I’m not sure he would. But he can threaten like a big dog. Hmm, that’s kind of redundant, since he is a big dog, I thought, dragging the shower curtain to the side and starting the water. How about—he could growl like a war dog who’d like nothing better than chomping down on the enemy. Better? Good enough.

  My thoughts would probably get more coherent after some coffee. Twinkles rang the bells a little more insistently. “Five minutes,” I called to him, then pulled my nightshirt over my head and checked to see if the hot water had kicked in.

  When I opened the lid on my clothes hamper to deposit my shirt, something was dinging inside. I fumbled through my dirty clothes until I pulled out the jeans I’d been wearing last night. I fished out my phone, still stuck in the pocket. I’d missed several messages from Terrance, Kay, and a number I didn’t recognize. Kay had freaking left me a voicemail. Huh, that was weird. Concern brushed over me as I called my voice mailbox but abated as soon as I heard the excitement in her recording.

  “I know you’re still sleeping,” Kay began, “but it looks like Terrence pulled off a miracle! That post is lighting up social media. Call me.”

  Connor had left a voice message, too. But he was on duty and that’s his modus operandi when he was driving his cop car. “Kay told me you might need my help tonight since your gimmick is gaining traction from Terrance’s video. Anyway, I’ll be there around five when you open.” I imagined Connor for a moment in his crisp blue uniform, sauntering…I shook my head to clear the image. Connor fantasies were a sure ticket to discomfort, and I’d never let anything happen between us. Neither would he. Our relationship was much too special.

  I turned my attention, instead, to a text from Terrance: Told you it would light up the web like fire. Already 200,000 views on the video, and a 138,000 likes and tons of shares. I know you’re wondering about the video. Kay and I filmed a little bit while you were visiting with Peter. I sent a file to your cloud. This is so hot. See you tonight so we can start the badge bunny fun!

  I had never known Terrance to write such a long text. Usually his texts were: Wazup? Or Gotcha. Or even Tonight at eight. But more than three or four words? Shocking.

  Film? Cloud? Too early. Okay, it was after noon, but still…too early. I put the phone on the sink and climbed into the shower to try to become a human again. I hurried myself along when Twinkles scratched at the door and made a pitiful whimpering noise.

  I jumped out of the shower, toweled off, pulled on some yoga pants and a sports shirt with a built-in bra, then slipped my feet into a pair of flip-flops, grabbed my keys along with Twinkles’ lead, and opened the door.

  Twinkles barreled out the door, down the stairs where Mrs. Crabgrass was coming in with her groceries. He nosed past her and ran over to the three blades of grass that valiantly tried to survive urban life under the stop sign. I found him there, eyes rolled back in his head, obviously enjoying the pleasure of his relief. When he was done, he trotted over to me so I could clip his leash on and take him to the dog park.

  I stopped by the corner café for a cup of coffee. Black. High-test. Tall. Hopefully, reviving. I sat on the bench and let Twinkles go and sniff his friends’ butts, cause that’s what dog friends do. Like I always say, to each his own. Just as long as it was consensual.

  I took as big a gulp of the scalding hot coffee as my pain sensors would allow, then opened my cloud. There was a video of Terrance with his arm draped around Daphne.

  “You think you can beat Daphne here at the mannequin challenge? Look at her.” Terrance started making faces at Daphne. Daphne didn’t move. “Look at her!” He started snapping his fingers right in front of her eyes. “No blinking. Can you believe it? Can you do that?” He turned his charismatic smile toward the camera and pointed. “I challenge you! Come out to Hooch’s and test your skills. The best mannequin wins a running bar tab for a whole night!”

  Kay could be heard clearing her throat off camera.

  “No?” Terrance shook his head looking like a kid who just had his lollipop taken away. “Yeah you’re right. That would be illegal. Well, we’ll hook you up with something equally cool.” Grin. Wink. God, he’s a total s
chmoozer. I could see why he got Kay’s panties in a bunch. Luckily, he wasn’t a boy in blue, so there was no problem with me being able to overlook his sex appeal.

  He made some weird hand sign and ended on “Let’s get this party on fleek.”

  I rolled my eyes at that bit. Fleek. What the heck was fleek? I typed the address for the Urban Dictionary into my phone to look up a definition. God, I felt old. I sniffed and took another hit of caffeine. Twenty-two and I couldn’t keep up.

  “You know I can’t take you tonight,” I told Twinkles. I was putting on my earrings and giving my hair one last fluff. I could see him through my open bedroom door, sitting in the foyer with his lead in his mouth, ready for action. He looked at me and cocked his head to the right. A short whine, then he put his lead down and gave a bark of disagreement.

  “Well, where are you going to stay?” I asked, checking my phone.

  Kay: Heading to the bar

  I walked down the hall toward Twinkles and shoved my cell phone into my back pocket. “In the back office? All night?” I raised my brows. “You know you hate sitting back there all by yourself.”

  Again, he barked, then picked up his lead and moved to block the front door.

  “I don’t know,” I said as I bent down to pet him and pat his sides. He leaned into me, waggling his little stub tail. Just like he knew he would, the little conniver, he made my will melt into a puddle of “who’s-a-good-boy?” feelings. I reached for his lead and clipped it in place. “All right, but no chewing on the furniture—” Before I could finish, Twinkles raced down the stairs and right past Mrs. Crabgrass, out to my car, where he waited patiently to be chauffeured.

  At Hooch’s, I walked in practically shaking with excitement. Joe was coughing in the back. That wasn’t okay. He needed to go to bed and get better. I reached for the Lysol to give myself a cloud of disinfectant to walk through as I went to send him home. You know, some people just embrace their true spirit, and Joe was one of those people. He loved to wash dishes. Loved it. Personally, I couldn’t understand. And my non-comprehension had nothing to do with Joe’s very loose grasp of the English language. His serene smile didn’t need translation—but Lord have mercy, he needed another way to meditate until whatever alien creature was living in his nose got euthanized.