The Bar II
|While he waited, Michael watched Summer go about her business. She was fairly tall, around 5' 9", and had long, curly dark hair which she kept away from her face with a cotton headband tied around her head. Her face was pretty and he thought her name suited her. She wore a light blue cotton shirt thrown over a darker vest top and a long white cotton skirt that flowed around her legs as she moved. Her hippy comment also suited her, though in a good way.|
Michael had to admit he was attracted to her and under different circumstances - and in a better state of repair - would have asked her if she'd like to go for a drink. As it was, he contented himself with watching her.
Some 15 minutes later Ricky strolled in. A squat man carrying too much weight, his eyes too close together, a fat nose and a rapidly receding hairline. Michael took an instance dislike to him but he needed information and this was all he had.
Ricky had a few words with Summer, casting a glance over at Michael every few seconds. Eventually he joined him at the bar, pouring himself a coffee of his own. He perched his oversized behind on the stool opposite Michael and looked at him.
"I hear you're after some information."
"Yeah, it's an odd question, but I want to know if I was in here last night. And if so, who with," Michael asked.
"Summer told me you were having some...problems. You were in."
"Any idea what time, who with?"
The bar owner looked into the distance, remembering.
"Came in around 9. Two guys with you. Sharp dressers. Suits, you know? Looked silk. High rollers, I guess you'd say."
"What time did we leave?"
"Don't know. We were busy, can't say as I noticed."
"You must have some idea."
Ricky looked at him impatiently. "Look, I have a bar to open and a lot to get done. I have no idea what time you left. The guys you were with, they left before you. You had another drink afterwards. After that, I got no clue. I can't help you more than that."
"One last question. Was I drunk?"
"Nope. You have a good day."
Ricky finished his coffee in one swallow and walked round the bar and out back. Michael sat for a few moments, considering what he'd been told. Who were the men he was with? How could he find them? If he wasn't drunk, how the hell did he end up in an alley with a bruised skull? He'd obviously been attacked. But why?
He made for the exit. "Thanks for all your help, Summer," he called.
He stopped at the door, turning. She walked over to him.
"The guys you were with," she said. "I didn't like them. They seemed...dangerous."
"I'll bear that in mind. Thanks again." He turned to leave but she put a hand out to stop him.
"I'm working from 8 tonight. If you want to call in and let me know how you are, I'd like that," she smiled.
"I might just do that," he smiled back. "Oh, does the name Kelso's mean anything to you?"
"It's a restaurant on the other side of town. Corner of Jackson Street and Carrington."
"Thanks. I might see you later."
Michael walked out into the mid-morning sun