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"Max, you are a big hit on the biker circle. Seems Marty was posting more photos than we thought. Not porno, just you and the bike. He wants you to do more commercials for the Internet."
"You want my answer, quote me on this," "Fuck off, Marty." I said to the night air, through the patio door.
"He is willing to pay."
"No thanks," I said.
Thompson arrived to save the day. Well, to at least stop the fight that was brewing. His assistant introduced him to Jennifer, who he pretended to remember. With me he didn't even bother to pretend. I decided then, that it really was a good thing that I didn't have my pistol. I spent two of the longest hours of my life at the party. When I could stand it no more, I slipped out.
"Blevins, how the hell are you?" I asked, as I sat down at the table with three police officers and a woman I had never met.
"I'm fine, Max, how are you?"
"Better now that I am in a sleazy beer joint with my friends."
"What makes you think that we are your friends?" the woman asked.
"Good point, you obviously know my name, so what's yours?"
"Anya Brice, Detective Anya Brice," she informed me, curtly.
"Well, Detective Brice, where have they been hiding you?"
"That is need to know and you don't," she replied. The woman definitely knew how to make an impression, as long as you don't mind it being a negative one. She didn't seem to care what I thought, or maybe she wanted me to thing she was a bitch.
I was about ready to tell her not to let her mouth overload her ass, when Blevins jumped in. "Max, you were in the service for a lot of years, do you have any ink?"
"I got a couple of small ones," I said.
"Oh really, where are they?" Anya asked.
"It's need to know and you don't," I replied.
"Okay, then what are they?" Blevins asked.
"A flag with my enlistment date and the date my husband was killed in Iraq under it. For God and Country over it."
"I didn't know you were ever married," Blevins said.
"Sometimes, I have problems believing it myself." I admitted, "But actually more than once."
"Lucas called me," Blevins said, changing the subject once again, since he noticed that it bothered me.
"Oh yeah, what's he complaining about?"
"He is so high about that take down you two made last week, he won't be complaining for a while."
"Good, everybody hates a whiner," I said.
"You seem a little out of it?" Anya commented quietly to me.
"It's been a roller coaster week, I just need to get drunk, hit the reset button, and start over on Monday."
"So why don't you?"
"I don't drive drunk."
"Do you know the Hazelwood?" she asked.
"That bed and breakfast across the square. I haven't been in it, since it was a railroad hotel. I used to go in for ice cream at their soda shop on Sundays."
"It's quite nice. A good friend of mine runs it now. Drink all you want. I'll give her a call and make sure there is room for you. I can make sure you get there safe.
"In that case the drinks are on me."
"Sorry, I can't do that. It would look twisted to my cop buddies," she said, with a sick smile.
"I am way familiar with the old, 'how would it look to my friends' bit." I informed her...
