Oct. 20th, 2014

It’s Monday, so I had writing class tonight, I’m sure that counts as my writing for the day, but I’m trying out my new Writing Exercises App. :) As per normal, I only used the prompt as a start point and ignored the parts I don’t like…

A simple drink after work with friends was all I had in mind, but I got more than I ordered.

The regular group of girls from the office agreed to meet after work at the bar on the corner. I was lucky and had no last minute projects arrive at quitting time, so I left the office on promptly.  The others mustn’t have been so lucky.

I was the first to arrive.

Behind the bar, as always, was Joe. He greeted me with a wave, bar towel in hand. I took a seat at the end of the bar near the door to wait for the rest of the girls to arrive.

A few tables away sat a young couple. She was drinking a fruity drink as he sweet talked in her eat.

At a booth across the bar, a rough looking guy in a leather jacket sat, half propped up, almost falling over. One beer bottle in his hand, and another in the table.

In the farthest booth a well dressed man in a business suit.

Joe brings me a glass of water and asks “Your usual today, Grace?”

With a broad smile, I nod and wrinkle my nose. He knows me too well, I’m too predictable.

Joe winks and returns the smile.

He sets to fix me my drink. “Where are the others today?”

“Oh,” I glance at the door, “They’ll be here eventually.”

When I return my attention, my drink is sitting in front of me, but something’s wrong.

I clear my throat in a mockingly critical manner.

With a smirk, Joe produced a lemon wedge and affixes if to rim of my rum and coke.

“Perfect” I remark.

As Joe turns to clean up, he adds “Isn’t it always?”

From behind me, I hear the door open.

“Finally”, I think, as I turn to greet my friends, but who I saw instead were two very tall very ominous looking cops. They were in full riot gear, or at least, that’s what it looked like to me.

They stood beside me and I tried my best to look innocent, which shouldn’t have been hard, but for some reason was.

Joe, having also noticed the large uniformed guests, had made is way to this end of the bar.

“Can I help you officers?”

They proceeded to ask several questions about the regulars; once again, I tried my best to look innocent. Joe did his best to be helpful, but when the questions became more direct, he began to get curious. “What’s this all about, may I ask.”

The cops shot me a glance, and I felt every bad thing I’ve ever done bubble up from inside me. The time I took that pen from the bank; the countless office supplies sitting at home that were liberated from the office, the bag of dog poop I threw in my neighbour’s trash… It was me there were here for! I was sure of it.

My ears were ringing and I could barely breathe, but I almost passed out when I heard them say…

“Murder”

The already quiet bar became even more silent and still.

The cops continued to question Joe. I tried to listen as best I could with out being obvious. I leaned closer, strained my neck.

“Body… …Missing person’s report… … Eye witness…”

If I could only hear more.

I suppose my attempts at being inconspicuous weren’t working out as well as I had hoped.

The larger of the two cops shot me another glance. “Perhaps if we could see the store room, Joe?”

“Absolutely, officer. Not a problem.”

They vanished into the back rooms.

I was left on my own to speculate.  What did I know for sure? There had been a murder, a missing person and a witness.

I wondered who it was, who did it and …Oh No!! Might they still be here?!

I glanced at the young couple.

They were still wrapped up in each other.

I could rule them out.

The rough looking guy in the booth. Maybe. He looks tough and scary.

He stirs and straitens up from his slumped position. I realize I’m staring and begin to worry. Did anyone notice? Did he notice? Does he know I suspect him?

I begin to fidget in with my drink.

I tell myself “don’t look at him, don’t look at anyone.”

Sitting, facing the bar, with my back to a potentially crazed murderer, I tried to relax and keep an open mind. Maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe it was… the man in the business suit.

Yes, it has to be him.

It’s always the clean cut guy, the one you least expect.

I casually reach behind the bar for some sort of defensive devise, in case I’m attacked. I didn’t was to make it to obvious, didn’t want to get anyone’s guard up. 

With my hand, I felt around behind the bar. My fingers find something hard, metallic. I grab it and hold it in a closed fist, ready to use it at a moment’s notice.

The uniformed officers emerge from the back room with Joe close behind. 

They shake Joe’s hand and thank him for his cooperation, and leave.

Joe returns to behind the bar.

I look at him with a strong gaze. He walks towards me. “Need another?” I shake my head and look at him stronger, with questioning eyes. He shakes his head, not understanding. I open my eyes wide and raise my eyebrows. Again, he looks back with confusion.

“What is it, Grace.”

I try to whisper and not move my mouth, gesturing with my face to get my point across. “What was that bout?”

“Oh that, they come in every few years.  There was an alleged  murder some place on this block, must be over thirty years ago. Pretty high profile case at the time. Some big Mob guy if I remember correctly.”

The suspense I had worked up in my head had dissipated, unsatisfyingly so. “Oh…”

“I guess they still get tips and have to follow them up, but by now, it’s mostly just conjecture and theories.”

The door opens behind me again and I turn to see my friends enter.

Patty is first in. “Hey Grace, sorry we’re late. Did we miss anything.”

I take a sip of my drink, loosening my grip on the weapon. “Not really.”

Joe, from behind the bar, searching. "Where's my bottle opener?"

Hope you enjoyed. I had fund writing.

Please feel free to leave comments.

Cheers.