The Maine Events Rodney Riesel (red white and royal blue hardcover .TXT) 📖

a ring gaugeof fifty. He closed the lid, and then pulled out a bottle of Kraken Rum and abottle of Don Julio tequila. He scanned the room.

“Where should we set up the bar, Frankie?”

Frankie didn't answer of course, but it was nice to pretend.

“No,” Allen argued, “I'll need the table to write. How aboutthe sink?”

Allen walked to the sink, put the coffee pot on top of themicrowave, and slid the microwave closer to the wall.

“There,” he said. “Perfect bar.”

Allen returned to his suitcase and unpacked the rest of hisstuff, including his Smith & Wesson 9mm, that was wrapped neatly in an oldBoston concert tee. He removed the stainless steel weapon from its clothwrapper and slid it under the edge of the mattress. Lastly, he took his laptop,notebooks, and a few pens out of his leather satchel. He set the laptop on thetable, and the notebooks and pens to the left of it. He pulled out one of thechairs, sat down, and hit the power button on the laptop. The screen lit upjust as two uniformed police officers walked past his window.

“Shit.”

Knock, knock!

Allen stood and answered the door.

“Yeah?”

“Are you Allen Crane?”

“Who wants to know?”

The two officers looked at each other, and then back at Allen.

“I'm Sergeant Paul Rose with the York Police Department.This is Officer Jim Tucker. We'd like to ask you a few questions about whattranspired at Stones Throw this afternoon.”

“Did the guy die?”

Rose shook his head. “No, he's in stable condition at YorkHospital.”

“Well, that's good, I guess.” Allen pulled the door open therest of the way. “Come on in.”

“The two men entered Allen's room.

“Sit down, if you'd like. I only have two chairs.” He threwa thumb over his shoulder. “And that little sofa.”

Tucker grabbed the back of the chair Allen had been sittingin, pulled it backwards a few feet, and sat down. He looked over at thesleeping dog.

“You're not in any trouble,” said Rose.

“I didn't think I was,” Allen responded.

Tucker snorted quietly.

Rose said, “The waiter—”

“Cal Watters,” said Tucker.

Rose shot him a look. “He said you were just defendingyourself.”

This caught Allen a little by surprise, since he knew Calhadn't seen what started the altercation. If anyone had seen everything, it wasprobably one of the college guys.

“Other witnesses—” Rose began.

“Mya Duffy, Trey Turner, Steve—” Tucker interrupted.

“He doesn't need to know everyone's name, Tuck.”

“Right, Sarge.”

“They all corroborated Cal's account.”

“That's good,” said Allen.

“We just wanted to get your side of the story,” Rose said.

“Well, I gave my drink order to the waiter.”

“Cal Watters,” said Tucker.

“That's right, Tuck,” Allen said, “Cal Watters. Then I gotup to use the restroom. I opened the door and there were already two guys inthere. The guy that stroked out, and another guy. The stroker had—”

“Bobby Jordan,” said Tucker.

“Bobby Jordan?”

“The stroker.”

“Oh. Anyway, Bobby had the little guy—”

Allen and Rose both looked at Tucker.

“Vinny Tubbs,” said Tucker.

“Bobby had Vinny by the front of his T-shirt. It looked likehe was threatening Vinny.”

“Did you hear any threats?” Rose asked.

“No,” Allen answered. “It was just the way he was looking athim. Bobby was really pissed about something.”

“Then what happened?” Rose asked.

“Bobby got after me for opening the door, so I made a smart-assremark about locking the door. He reached for me, and I shut the door on hisarm. I wouldn't let him out until he promised to calm down and apologize tome.”

“Did he?”

“Yeah.”

Rose chuckled. “You got a lotta balls, pal.”

“Why's that?”

“Bobby Jordan isn't someone ya want to mess with.”

“Based on the outcome,” said Allen, “I guess I'm not someonehe wants to mess with.”

Tucker snorted again.

“The guy's got a list of priors as long as my arm,” said Rose.

“Hey!” said Tucker.

Allen and Rose looked over. Tucker was scrolling throughAllen's laptop.

“I didn't mean to pry,” Tucker said, “but you've got thisfile on the desktop—Untitled Reed Templeton Mystery. You Allen Crane,the writer?”

“I sure am, Tuck. You've heard of me?”

“Heard of ya? Hell yeah, I've heard of ya. I've read allyour books.”

“All four of them?”

“What are you, famous, or something?” Rose asked.

“Kinda.”

“How famous?”

“Less than Stephen King, more than Charlie Hewitt.”

“Who's Charlie Hewitt?” Rose asked.

“Exactly.”

“It's been, like, three years since your last book,” Tuckerpointed out.

“Yeah, it's been a while.”

“You haven't put out a book since—” Tucker cut himself off.He knew right away he'd put his size ten foot in his mouth. He looked back atthe computer screen and scratched his head. “Sorry about looking through yourlaptop.”

“Don't worry about it.” Allen turned back to Rose. “They saywhen Bobby'll be getting out of the hospital?”

“A few days. How long you in town?”

“Two weeks.”

“If I were you,” said Rose, “I'd think about getting outsooner than later.”

“Are ya tellin' me to be outta town by sundown?” Allen askedwith a grin.

“No, sir,” Rose replied. “Not at all.”

“Was it a stroke?” Allen asked.

“No. The doc says it was a mild myocardial infarction.”

“A slight heart attack,” said Tucker.

“And a few stitches in his chin and over his eye where hedrove his mug into the deck,” Rose added.

Allen grinned. “Good thing he was already ugly. A few scarswon't matter.” He glanced back at Tucker; he was still scrolling through thelaptop.

Tucker quickly pulled his hand back when he noticed Allenlooking.

“Sorry,” he said again.

“Don't worry about it.”

“Is that why you're in Maine? Are you doing research forthis book?”

“That, and I thought it might help to try writing in adifferent location.”

“Writer's block?”

“No.”

Rose cleared his throat. “Well, Mr. Crane—”

“Allen.”

“Allen. We'll get out of your hair so you can get somewriting done. If I have any other questions, I'll give you a call.” He pulled abusiness card out of his vest pocket. “And if you think of anything, give me acall.”

Allen nodded. “I sure will,” he said, taking the card.

Tucker stood. “I can't wait to read the new book,” he said.He reached out and shook Allen's hand. “I really am a big fan.”

“Thanks, Tuck.”

Rose opened the door and stepped out onto the walkway.Tucker followed, and Allen shut the door behind them. He watched as the twoofficers passed the picture window. Tucker turned and said something to Rose.Rose had no reaction. Allen wondered what the younger officer said.

Frankie let out a big