Dockside Cafe Part 13 (Blogophilia 47.13)

 I stared at the phone for a good minute soaking in the words. Could this get any weirder? A dog barking at a squirrel next to my bench brought me back to reality.

"I assume you have some questions?"

Williams' voice was sharp. "Only one. Where were you yesterday?"

"My place, mostly." A swan took flight across my field of vision, settling in the cold water next to a clump of trees. "Cleaning up the Bartlett file for the lawyers."

"No side trips?"

"Not up that way." I looked at my shoes. For some reason the cold making my feet numb. "Met one of the lawyers for lunch at Mary Mac's to discuss the final report for Bartlett. That was at 1. I was back about 2:30 and worked until about midnight."

"Ok." Williams sighed. It wasn't what he wanted to hear, but it was the truth. "I might need to you to come in again. I'll let you know."

And he was gone.

Somehow, I made it back to the apartment without throwing myself into traffic. I didn't want to see anybody I knew, so I went in through the parking garage and not the front door. At least the visitor's space was empty. I wouldn't have to hear any shenanigans from across the hall.

But there was a surprise waiting for me when I got to my floor. There were police officers in the hall and yellow tape across Delores' apartment door. How did I miss the cruisers ? Oh, yeah. I came in through the back.

What now?

One of them stops me as I approach and asks where I live. I tell him and he asked for my ID. It wasn't an ask, really, So I hand it over. He looked at it and then disappeared with it into the apartment. He came back with a lady detective whose name I didn't catch. We stepped down the hall a bit to talk. She asked if I had been in the building in the last hour or so. I said no, I was down at the park walking. She then asked if I knew Delores. I answered not well other than to say hello now and then, was something wrong? She confirmed there was. Delores had been found dead an hour ago.

The next hour was a wall of confusion. She asked when I saw her last. Frankly I couldn't recall. Three days ago? Did I know any of her acquaintances? I'd never saw any, only heard. She kind of smiled at that one. Finally, the lady was satisfied I couldn't help her and I retreated into my cave and turned on the radio.

It was bad enough Herrington had been found, but now Delores? I mean, I hardly knew the lady, but this was getting too close to home.

"…and now this geritol gem from 1981, Jenny. Whatever happened to Tommy TuTone, anyway…?"

My head started nodding.

"…867-5309…"

Who was it that used it as a ring tone. Sarah? Molly? Yeah, that's right, Molly. And she'd answer the phone "This is Jenny!" I'm glad we never made it to bed. I would have broke the thing over her head if it had rung in the middle of it. Come to think of it, she did kind of looked like Donna Bartlett.

"…and since we are on the subject of bad 80s one hit wonders, here's 'One in a Million You…"

NO! I don't want that memory rolling in my head. Last time I had heard, the dude was doing drag shows in some dive on the Southside.

Thank God there's beer in the fridge.

I had to wonder, was any connection between Herrington and Delores? It's too much of a coincidence they died on the same day. I look on Herrington's data sheet to for known associates. I see an interesting one and decide to take a gamble. I pick up the phone.

"Holidayland Marina."

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Topic-Jay Sole

Pic-Michele Marko King

Pic Guesses- Tommy Tutone (in blog), Jenny (in blog), 867-5309 (in blog), cold (in blog), seven day, forecast, weather