Chez Stinky (17 page)

Kat looked over at Maria. “Really? The Weather Girls? Way to have an ’80s flashback.”

“It’s all about your attitude.”

The CD skipped and got stuck on the chorus. Hearing that it was raining men on droning repeat seemed a little ghoulish so Kat popped out the CD. “Let’s wait until we get on the pavement.”

“Yeah, there’s a fine line between rain and a flood. Maybe I’ll bring another CD next time.”

As they approached the main street in Alpine Grove, Kat considered their options. Nightlife and Alpine Grove were words that were not often used in tandem. She’d noticed a bar called the 311. That seemed like a decent place to start.

Maria got out of the car and yanked on the hem of her dress to pull it back down where it was supposed to be. “We need to go someplace where I can stand or lean on something. I need to pose gracefully. Sitting causes issues with my dress.”

“There’s a bar down here. I’ve never been to it, so I don’t know what the seating situation is there.”

“Lead on.”

The two women entered the 311 through a heavy wooden door. Kat peered into the dark smoky room. The 311 had all the hallmarks of the quintessential dive bar, complete with dirty wooden floors and paneling. Country music wailed from the jukebox and a few people were sitting at the dark smoke-infused wooden tables, nursing bottles of beer. Kat and Maria walked up to the bar, and Maria hoisted herself up to partially sit and partially lean on one of the Naugahyde bar stools. Her dress mostly stayed down, although the rest of the bar did get a good look at one of Maria’s ample thighs.

The smell of smoke permeated the place and Kat coughed, which helped to get the bartender’s attention. He walked over to them.

“What can I get you ladies?”

Maria said, “I’ll have a sex on the beach.”

“Excuse me?”

Maria yelled a bit louder, “Sex on the beach!”

“Are you saying you want sex? Or a drink?”

The music from the jukebox stopped and Maria said forcefully, “I want a sex on the beach!”

Most of the patrons of the 311 looked over at the bar. Someone in the crowd whistled and shouted out, “Me too!” Maria looked over her shoulder. “It’s a drink, people! What is wrong with you? Get your mind out of the gutter.”

The bartender looked slightly flustered and said, “I usually just pour beer. I’m not sure how to make that. What’s in it?”

Maria gave him a stern look. “What kind of bartender are you? It’s got cranberry juice, pineapple juice, peach schnapps and vodka.”

“Um, I think we have orange juice. What’s a schnapps?”

“Fine. I’ll have a screwdriver then.” The bartender looked blankly at her. “It’s orange juice and vodka.”

“Okay. Coming right up.” He looked at Kat. “Anything for you?”

“No thanks. I’m the designated driver.” She pointed her thumb at Maria. “She’s the designated drinker.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Maria readjusted her skirt, which was again trying to crawl up her leg. She gave up on the idea of leaning and pulled herself up so she was sitting completely on the barstool with her legs crossed at the ankles. “Why do they make these things for people who are seven feet tall?”

Kat looked over toward Maria. Behind her, Larry Lowell was heading toward them through the smoky haze. His eyes were locked on Maria, and he was obviously quite impressed with the red dress and Maria’s shapely form. Kat waved slightly at him. The poor guy was almost drooling.

Larry stood next to Kat’s bar stool, and Kat waved toward Maria. “Larry, this is my friend Maria. She works with me and is visiting for the weekend. Maria, this is Larry Lowell. He’s the lawyer that’s handling my aunt’s estate.”

Larry stood in silence for a moment, staring at Maria. He suddenly jerked out his hand and blurted out, “Hi, I’m Larry.”

Maria smiled demurely, took his hand and shook it gently. “So I heard. Why don’t you sit down?” Larry nodded and pulled up a barstool next to Maria.

The bartender stopped by with Maria’s drink. She picked it up and looked over the glass at Larry. “Do you know if there are any places around here where you can get a drink that has something other than orange juice in it?”

Larry looked dumbfounded by the question for a moment, then said, “There’s another bar down the street. I can show you. We can walk.”

Kat rolled her eyes and listened as Larry made small talk about the weather with Maria. This was going to be one long evening. So much for sexy farmers. One boring lawyer seemed to be the best they could do.

After Maria finished her drink, true to his word, Larry led them down the street to another bar, which had a sign above it with old wooden letters that read “Mystic Moon Soloan.” Although both bars were on the main street, few people were out and the one traffic light in town had been turned off for the evening. The flashing red light gave the street a sort of eerie glow. All the little storefronts were dark and the only people out were a small group of high-school students clustered around a No Parking sign, enjoying a clandestine cigarette break.

Maria, Larry, and Kat stood outside the bar, each silently evaluating whether or not to enter the establishment. Kat looked over at Larry. “Mystic Moon Soloan? Okay, I give. What’s a soloan?”

Larry shrugged. “It’s supposed to be saloon. The story goes that the guys who made the sign had a few too many beers and mixed up the letters. No one ever got around to fixing it. If you walk around to the other side, it’s spelled correctly there.”

Kat and Maria walked down the street past the door to look at the other side of the sign. Sure enough, Larry was right. Spelling obviously wasn’t a big priority in Alpine Grove.

The trio walked into the bar. Like the 311, it was dark, but the Mystic Moon seemed smaller, older, and shabbier, which was quite an accomplishment given the ambiance of the 311. The dark walls had an impressive collection of mirrored beer signs. An antique neon Schlitz sign flickered over the mirrored bar.

Several grizzled-looking older men sat at the bar, hunched over their beer glasses. In the back of the room, a burly man in a leather vest leaned over a pool table, preparing to take a shot. There was no music; just a general mumbling hum of conversation interspersed with the occasional clacking sound of pool balls crashing into each other.

Larry looked over at Kat. “This place has a group of regulars who spend a lot of time here. I don’t come here often.”

Kat glanced at Maria, who had a frown on her face. “I’m not sure about this place. I’m happy to leave if you are.”

Maria nodded. “There is not one sexy farmer here. Those guys might have farms, but there’s no way I’d get on one of their tractors.”

The trio turned around and went back outside. Standing below the Soloan sign, they looked up the street.

“Okay Larry, you’re the local. Do you have any other ideas?” Kat asked.

Larry shook his head. “I should go home. I have an early appointment tomorrow. Maria, it was a pleasure meeting you. I hope I see you again before you return to the city.” He reached out to shake her hand, but brought it up to his lips instead.

When he released her, Maria flipped her dark curls back with her hand. “It was nice meeting you, too.”

Larry walked around the building and disappeared into the night, leaving the two women alone again on the empty street. Kat looked at Maria. “I think he liked you.”

“What’s not to like? I’m totally hot in this dress. And I didn’t see many women in either of those bars. What’s the deal? Don’t they have females here?”

“I haven’t been out much at night. Maybe there’s some place that’s not so filthy. Larry took me to an Italian restaurant that is nice. I don’t think you’d be able to pick up a sexy farmer there, but we could get something to eat.”

“Italian? I love Italian! It’s my heritage. Let’s hit it, girlfriend. I’ll work on the sexy farmer program tomorrow.”

While she was lying in bed the next morning, something poked Kat in the back. She rolled over and found herself face-to-face with Linus’s large black nose. Perhaps it was time for breakfast. Sleeping upstairs in the dog-free area had advantages beyond the reduced dust level. Kat sneezed, which startled the big dog, who sat down with a thump next to one of the boxes.

Kat pushed the blue bedspread down and sat up. “Good morning to you too, Linus.” The dog wagged his tail slowly and then sank to the floor with a sigh. He gave Kat a forlorn look and put his head between his paws. Clearly, the human was not making motions toward getting out of bed and providing food.

Kat reached down and picked up the photo album she and Maria had been looking at the day before. After they got home from dinner, Kat had gone through the other photos, which were a chronology of the little girl’s childhood through adolescence. Kat leafed through the photographs again, wondering if the girl was Louise’s daughter. Clearly, they were good friends with Abigail and had spent a lot of time together over the years.

One photo that had obviously been taken after an Alpine Grove Frontier Days parade particularly amused Kat. It was another posed photo with Abigail, Louise, and the little girl, but for some reason they were wearing grotesquely ugly matching turquoise pantsuits that had been adorned with glittery silver studs. The image was emblematic of the worst of 1960s fashion and the little girl was obviously unhappy to be seen looking like a rhinestone cowgirl.

The dejected expression on the girl’s face reminded Kat of herself in family photos of her with her sisters. It was like the Sesame Street song that proclaimed “one of these things is not like the other.” She was always the weird one. But that feeling was probably because she didn’t get along with her mother particularly well. Maybe she could call her mother and find out if she knew who the little girl in the photo was. Or not. It might be better to just feed the dogs and forget about it. Listening to her mother’s disapproving voice this early in the morning didn’t have much appeal. Besides, her mother was probably working on her morning vacuuming project and wouldn’t hear the phone anyway.

Kat got out of bed and Linus leaped up with glee, shaking his head, flapping his ears, and cavorting around the room. “Yes, Big Guy, I’m really going to feed you now. Thanks for being patient.” Linus scampered out of the room, presumably to share the good news with the other canines in the pack.

After a joy-filled breakfast, the dogs settled down for their post-feeding nap. Kat sat at the kitchen table holding her coffee mug in her hands. She knew that Maria liked to sleep late, so she had some time to call her mother now. Her curiosity about the little girl in the photographs trumped her dread of talking to her mother. Kat picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number. She recognized her sister Kim’s voice greeting her.

“Hi Kim. It’s Kat. How are you? I didn’t know you were at the house.”

“Yes, I have an audition early in the morning, so I decided to spend the weekend here. And Rick and I had a fight, so I left.” Kat could imagine Kim sticking out her lower lip in a pout. Kim’s on-again, off-again relationship with Rick generally moved to the off-again setting after she rediscovered his unauthorized activities with other women.

“Another fight?”

“Yes. I’m leaving him for good this time. I just need to get this commercial and then I’ll have enough money to move out.”

Kat doubted that would happen, but her sister’s optimism (or delusion) would probably help for her audition. As far as Kat knew, Kim had never gotten a paid acting job in her life. “How is the job at the cafe going?”

“Well, you know it’s temporary. And yesterday I saw a director there. You know all the studio guys hang out at the cafe. Well, maybe the guy I saw was actually an assistant director. Or maybe he said he was the guy who loads the film in the camera. I’m not sure. I’m sure he’s important.”

Kat rolled her eyes. Kim thought everyone was important with a capital I. “Is mother around? I need to ask her something.”

“She’s vacuuming. Hold on.”

The sound of the phone thunking on the counter came through the receiver. Kat heard her sister yelling at her mother over the noise of a vacuum cleaner. A few moments later, her mother’s voice came on the line.

“Katherine? Is something wrong?”

“No. Everything is fine. Can’t I just call when everything is fine?”

“I’m just checking, dear. What is it? I’m vacuuming.”

Interrupting vacuuming was invariably a major issue for her mother, but Kat pressed on. “I am in Alpine Grove, and I have a question.”

“Alpine Grove? Why on earth would you be there, dear?

“You know I inherited Great-Aunt Abigail’s house, right?”

“Good heavens. No one told me. Abigail is dead? That’s too bad.”

Given the tone in her voice, her mother didn’t seem terribly broken up about Abigail’s demise. “Yes, I’ve been here for the last week or so, cleaning up the house.”

“You cleaned? Will wonders never cease!”

“Yes, it has been known to happen, although I’m sure it’s not up to your antiseptic standards. I need to do a few repairs to the house, as well. But that’s not why I’m calling. I found some photographs. Do you know Louise Johnson? She was a friend of Aunt Abigail’s.”