Absolute Devotion Ch. 09

"Do you remember that movie 'Beverly Hills Cop'?"

"I never saw it," I told him. "I've never been to the movies. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, in this movie Eddie Murphy's buddy gets killed and he goes to Beverly Hills to find the people responsible. And all this crazy shit happens with these half-wit detectives, but then he tracks down the guy that ordered the hit on his buddy, this guy who gets like scary serious and says shit like 'I think you should be more worried about what we are going to do with you,' but with this like, I don't know, weird pauses between the words, and he's really intense..."

"I don't understand why you are telling me about this."

"Do you think it could be the same guy?"

"That was an actor, right?"

"Yeah, I think so, but it could have been based on a true story."

"Well, look into that if you want, but I'm going to see if those cops are setting up surveillance on Erica."

When I got home, Erica wasn't there. She'd left a note saying she needed to go out and would be back later, "probably with a present," which made my erection ache, but also gave me renewed feelings of guilt and shame over what had happened with Detective Haggerty.

I had to find a way to be low key in checking the neighborhood for any sign of the cops that were doing surveillance on Erica. They knew my face, so I needed a disguise. I still had my dead aunt's trunks of clothes and accessories, so I decided to bring my classic old lady disguise back into service.

As I tried to walk casually through the apartment complex, using my best imitation of an old lady gait, I looked for any sign of men sitting in cars trying to blend in. Nothing stood out to me, so I widened my search area to include the surrounding streets. There wasn't a single suspicious looking person in a car, or any panel vans, which I was told by someone I asked, were often used for surveillance.

A text came to my cell phone, which I kept on the down low while checking it. The text was from Erica.

"I might be home late. Had to meet someone at Highlights. Don't wait up. XOXOXO."

She had gone to meet someone at Highlights on the Marsh, the same place she had gone to meet Jimmy when I followed her in much the same disguise I was wearing now. It was uncanny how she seemed to always go there every time I wore this particular disguise.

Since I already had the disguise on, and my search of the neighborhood for cops doing surveillance had not led anywhere, I decided to see what was going on at Highlights. I imagined the bartender missed my witty banter and would be happy to see me again.

"Hi," said the hostess when I walked in. She was the same hostess as the last time I'd come to Highlights in my old lady disguise and she remembered me. I imagined she missed my witty banter and was happy to see me again.

"How are you, darling?" I asked.

"I'm doing well, thank you," she said. Then she looked over at her hostess stand, moved some papers so she could see a photograph, which she proceeded to pick up. She looked at the picture, then at me, and then smiled again. "Are you going to be meeting anyone tonight?"

"No, just by my lonesome tonight," I told her. "Is that picture of someone?"

"Nothing to be worried about," she said and then leaned towards me and whispered, "I was told to be on the lookout for two older ladies who have been assaulting women in town."

"Oh my, is nothing sacred anymore?" I said with feigned shock and surprise.

"They came in here a couple nights ago and assaulted a woman in the ladies' room. We called the police, but they were gone before the cops arrived."

"Goodness, that is just plumb awful! Praise Jesus, I just don't know what kind of world we are living in, all kinds of filthy perverts and nasty people everywhere."

The hostess asked if I wanted a table or if I wanted to sit at the bar again. I looked around and saw Erica at a table away from the bar. She was with a man in a cheap suit, so cheap that the seam in the back of his jacket was splitting, probably without his knowledge, but he had his back to me so I was unable to ascertain his identity.

"Sweetheart, how about letting me sit at a table by the wall? I do enjoy people watching, much like some people like bird watching, except people have much more involved lives due to being people and not birds. How about over there?"

I pointed to a table in a back corner, which wasn't far from where Erica was sitting with the mystery man. It afforded me a view of their table that kept me behind Erica but able to look directly at the man in the cheap suit.

"No problem," she said. "As you can see, we are not very busy tonight, so you can sit anywhere you please."

"Should I seat myself, or how does this work?" I asked, genuinely concerned.

"You can go ahead and sit where you like," she smiled. "I'll send Whitney over to take your order."

"Who is Whitney?" I wondered.

"She's the server who has that table tonight."

"Is she a nice girl?"

"She's a very good server," the hostess said. "You'll be fine."

"Oh, okay sweetheart, I just wanted to make sure she was a nice girl."

I walked towards my chosen table, cutting through the bar area on my way. The same bartender was working. I couldn't remember his name, but I waved at him in a ladylike fashion. He looked at me, smiled tentatively, and offered a very slight wave in return.

I wasn't satisfied with his response to me, so I wandered over to the bar. I stood tall and waited for him to come over to me.

"Hello Evelyn, would you care for a Tom Collins?" he asked.

"I don't think that's my name," I told him.

"What do you think IS your name?"

"Well, why do you think my name is Evelyn? Did I tell you that the last time I was here?"

"The label on your dress was sticking out last time and it had your name written on it."

I didn't want to use the name Evelyn, as that was my dead aunt's name. Everything had just become a LOT more uncomfortable.

"That IS my name, sweetie, I was just testing," I said. "So, I'm becoming a regular here, aren't I?"

"This is your second time, Evelyn."

"I like to be called Grandma," I told him.

"Even by people who aren't your grandchildren?"

"ESPECIALLY people who aren't my grandchildren."

"Okay."

"So, do I get any benefits from being a regular here? Discounts or something?"

"Well, not really," the bartender said.

"You should do something like that," I told him, "then this place wouldn't be so dead."

I harrumphed and walked over to the table I had picked out, the one with the perfect view of the back of Erica's head and the face of her mystery man.

I sat down and waited for Whitney. Apparently they called waitresses 'servers' here, which made me glad for my disguise, as it allowed me to call her a waitress without looking like I was out of touch with modern terminology.

I was about to look over to see the face of the man sitting with Erica when Whitney appeared, completely blocking my view.

"Good evening and welcome to Highlights on the Marsh. I'll be your server tonight, my name is Whitney, and can I start you off with a cocktail?"

"Is that like a bunny tail?"

"Excuse me?"

"A cocktail. Is that like a bunny tail?"

"No ma'am, that is a beverage with alcohol in it."

"Oh my, good heavens, what will they think of next? These modern times with all these new words and ideas, it is so overwhelming sometimes!"

"What did they call a cocktail in your day?" Whitney asked.

"A drink, and yes, I'll have one. A Tom Collins, please. Ask the bartender, he knows how I like them. I'm a regular here."

"Okay, thank you, ma'am. Let me give you this menu, take your time looking it over, and if you need anything at all, my name is Whitney."

"That's a man's name, isn't it?" I asked as I looked her up and down. "I tell you what, I don't care for ladies in trousers, sexual revolution be damned."

"Yes, ma'am, I'll be back with your drink in just a few minutes," Whitney said and walked away, her fabric-encased legs no longer irritating me, at least for the time being.

Once Whitney walked away, I turned my attention back to Erica's table. I could now see the face of the man she was with and I knew exactly who it was.

It was the police detective who had interviewed Jimmy at work. Jimmy had been right. They were following Erica and trying to collect evidence tying her to Ray's murder.

Something needed to be done. I needed a plan and I needed it quickly.