not a wolverine, it’s a badger.”
The staffer stopped walking, looked down at the bag he was carrying, then walked away.
“So, where were we?” Rex turned back to Grant & Isobelle. “Something about telepathy? How am I doing? I’m Rex, by the way.” He held out his hand.
“You are the friend. I have heard about you.” Isobelle shook his hand. “Your friend has had a difficult day, and says he needs some quiet. As for you, the troubles you have are not yet over. You still have a ways to go yet. As for right now, you are taking a test … a test to see how quiet you can be today,” Isobelle said, laughing at him.
“A test? This yokel here put you up to that? How do you know about my troubles? Are you working for the government?”
“Remember, you are taking a test. It’s nice to meet you, Rex,” she said in a whisper, then let go of his hand. “And no, I am not working for the government.”
CHAPTER 2
“How about a margarita?” Rex asked.
“No one by that name works here,” Isobelle replied, looking at Grant.
“The drink, you know, with tequila and lime. Margarita.”
“Does your friend want one of those as well?”
“He wants what I tell him to want,” Rex pushed Grant on the shoulder.
“Is that so?” Isobelle asked Grant.
“I never want what he tells me, except for now,” Grant replied. “Maybe you could tell him what he wants.”
“I do not think so. I have just met him, but I could believe that it might be difficult for anyone to tell him anything. I will bring the margaritas.” Isobelle turned away to prepare the drinks, quickly glancing at Grant.
The woman certainly had a confidence about her. Her movements were fluid, never deliberate. Grant had been in countless bars before, but he had never seen a woman move with the same grace or sense of purpose before, though the more he thought about it, her composure did remind him somewhat of Annie. Her comment about his trauma, along with the feeling that he had seen her face somewhere before perplexed him. He wondered how she had known about his accident.
“See, I told you it was a good idea to come here. Man, am I beat, and hungry too. You suppose they got some good food around here? ‘Cause I’m fucking hungry!” Rex said, intervening in Grant’s thoughts.
“Always thinking of the others, aren’t you? You are always fucking hungry.”
“Sorry, forgot you got in a wreck today. What the hell, man? How long before your—and you can’t drive for a while, either?”
“That’s what they said,” his eyes still fixed on Isobelle.
“Well, that sucks.”
“I may have to hang here for an extra couple of days. They probably still won’t get my truck fixed by then,” Grant said.
“Lucky to be alive, I guess,” Rex said, sincerely.
“Just like always. What about you?”
“Well, like I told you, I have been under the gun, and am not sure when that’s going to clear. I didn’t do anything, but those fuckers sometimes just pop you because they can. I didn’t want to talk about it on the phone.”
“Because you are three of the most paranoid bastards I’ve ever met.”
“Funny, but really. These shit heels do that kind of thing just to fuck with you.” Rex lowered his voice, looked around the room, then back to Grant.
“What shit heels are you referring to?”
“The fed boys, I don’t know which fucking branch. The branch that fucks with you.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down much.”
“Justice department, US Marshalls. I didn’t make this shit up. Even I’m not that fucked up. Anyway, this law firm I was working for did some work for some guys that were into some illegal shit. The government found out about it, about the, let’s say bad guys, came after the bad guys that were doing the illegal shit, and then came after the firm for not being, fuck, I don’t know, not being more something.”
“Not being more something, that is a high crime.”
“Look, cowboy Sam, this has been tortuous shit. In case you forgot, I have been out of touch for a while.”
“I didn’t forget.”
“Now, I don’t know if I’m in the clear or not. One of the guys in the firm said not to be surprised if the bad guys tried to fuck with us also.”
“Where does a person have to go to join a club that can attain the level of paranoia that you seem to prescribe to?” Grant shook his head slowly back and forth.
“That bartender, what was her name?” Rex asked.
“Isobelle.”
“Right, I don’t know why I thought it was Margarita. She’s something, huh?”
“That’s the drink, margarita, and she is really something,” Grant said. He finally took his eyes off of her figure and looked at Rex.
“What do you think about Annie coming? Have you figured out how to thank me yet?”
“Maybe if you pass Isobelle’s test.”
“I knew you put her up to that. Who says that to someone you just met?”
“I just told her … never mind. Let’s get more on the preliminaries about you first, and try not to take me clear back to when laws were first codified. Then we’ll talk about Annie.”
“Worst years of my life … not sure about what they are going to do, which could suck big time. She’s really attractive,” Rex said, watching Isobelle make the drinks “and I think she likes you. She was watching you the whole time.” Isobelle looked back at them. Rex waved. “She didn’t even look at me.”
“Can’t blame her there, not sure I want to look at you either. So that’s it? You don’t know what’s going to happen?” Grant asked.
“No, but she seems to think I’m not done,” he said, nodding his head at Isobelle. “What the hell is up with that? Telling me I still have a ways to go. Maybe she’s a gypsy or some sort of … she does kind of have that look about her. Anyway, what can I tell you, Grant? It’s been shitty every hour of every day. I didn’t want to reach out to anyone, for fear they would get on anybody I reached out to. I’m surprised they didn’t call you anyway. Hell, it wouldn’t surprise me if they showed up here at this hotel to watch me. They know we’re friends, they know everything. First they stick a microscope up your ass and then down your tonsils, they got everything on you.”
“In that order? Do they clean it first?” Grant smiled.
They both started laughing. Isobelle returned with the drinks, and a small bowl of olives.
“There you are, gentlemen: two of my best margaritas, and some locally-grown olives. Judging from your smiles, you are happier already.”
“You didn’t ask us how we liked them made. The drinks, I mean,” Rex chimed in.
“You are men, no?”
“I am, at least. Can’t speak for this one here,” Rex said, elbowing Grant.
“Men would not want these blended. They would want them gently shaken, with the finest tequila, lime, and curacao. We come to the finale with just a kiss of Grand Marnier, to remind them of a sunset they once viewed with a beautiful woman somewhere, and of course, salt, because these men work hard,” Isobelle said, placing the drinks in-front of them.
There