Part 16 (2/2)
The waitress brought the drinks and showed Ryan as many teeth as my sister at her friendliest. He paid and winked at her. Spare me.
”You're not exactly poetry to be with,” he said after placing one of the beers on the ledge above Harry's jacket.
”I'll work on it. How do you know about Anna Goyette?”
”I ran into Claudel on this biker thing, and we talked about it.”
”Why in the world would you do that?”
”He asked me.”
I could never figure out Claudel. He blows me off, then discusses my phone call with Ryan.
”So who is she?”
”Anna is a McGill student. Her aunt asked me to locate her. It's not the Hoffa case.”
”Claudel says she's a very interesting young lady.”
”What the h.e.l.l does that mean?”
Harry chose that moment to rejoin us.
”Whoa, little buckaroos. If you have to pee you'd better plan ahead.”
She took in the altered seating arrangement and slid onto the stool to Ryan's left. As if on cue the band began singing about whiskey in a jug. Harry swayed and clapped along until a geezer in a checkered cap and green suspenders jigged over and took her by the hand. She jumped up and followed him to the back room, where two young men were once again doing egret imitations. Harry's partner had a substantial belly and a soft, round face. I hoped she wouldn't kill the guy.
I looked at my watch. Eleven-forty. My eyes burned from smoke and my throat was scratchy from shouting.
And I was enjoying myself.
And I wanted a drink.
Seriously.
”Look, I've got a headache. As soon as Ginger Rogers gets off the dance floor I'm going to cut out.”
”Suit yourself, bucko. You've done very well for your first session.”
”Jesus, Ryan. I've been here before.”
”For the storyteller?”
”No!” I had thought about that. I love Irish folklore.
I watched Harry hop and twist, her long blond hair flying. Everyone watched her. After a while I shouted in Ryan's ear.
”Does Claudel know where Anna is?”
He shook his head.
I gave up. The potential for conversation was zero.
Harry and the geezer danced on. His face was red and covered with sweat, and his clip-on tie hung at an odd angle. When Harry's jig brought her round to face me I pantomimed a finger across the throat. Cut. Wrap.
She waved gaily.
I jabbed my thumb toward the exit, but she'd already rotated out of eye contact.
Oh, G.o.d.
Ryan watched me, an amused smile on his face.
I gave him a look that could freeze El Nino, and he slouched back and held both hands in a palms-out gesture.
The next time Harry circled toward me I gestured again, but she was staring at something over my shoulder, an odd look on her face.
At twelve-fifteen my prayers were answered as the band took a break. Harry returned, flushed but beaming. Her partner looked like he needed a resuscitator.
”Whew! I feel rode hard and put away wet.”
She ran a finger around her collar, hopped onto her stool, and chugged the beer Ryan had ordered. When the geezer made a move to settle next to her, she patted him on his cap.
”Thanks, big guy. I'll see y'all later.”
He tipped his head and gave her a puppy look.
”Bye-bye.”
Harry wriggled her fingers, and the geezer shrugged and blended back into the crowd.
Harry leaned across Ryan. ”Tempe, who's that over there?” She tipped her head toward the bar behind us.
I started to turn.
”Don't look now!”
”What?”
”The tall skinny dude with the gla.s.ses.”
I rolled my eyes, which didn't help my headache. Harry would use this routine in junior high when I wanted to leave and she wanted to stay.
”I know. He's cute and he's really interested in me. Only he's shy. Been there, done that, Harry.”
The band started another reel. I stood and put on my jacket.
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