The man who yanked the door open was clearly not happy. Walking across the room he pushed three chairs noisily out of his way. By the time he got to the bar Glory Dey had set down the vodka bottle he had been opening and braced himself for an assault. Whether it was to be verbal or physical remained to be seen.
“Do you remember me?” the man demanded, “I was in here last night.”
Glory took his time answering, wondering what prompted the question.
“We had a full house last night, sir. I can’t say that I remember you,” Glory said.
“I spent enough money in here, you should. But you’re right, it was busy. I was at the bar right there.” He pointed two seats over from where he stood. “Then a woman started talking to me. We moved to a table over there.”
Glory’s memory came back. The man was G and T with lime. She was white wine spritzers. He had come in after the dinner hour and sat at the bar by himself, drinking steadily. Then the blonde bombshell came in and caught his interest. Suddenly he had someone to talk to. And talk they did. They talked at the bar. They really talked when they moved to the table in the back corner in near darkness. They talked with their foreheads almost touching and then they were touching hands. After talking for perhaps half an hour they left the bar, arm in arm. Glory figured not long after that they found something to do besides talk.
“I do remember now,” admitted Glory. “Why, what happened?
“What happened is she robbed me. Took my wallet with all my cash and cards. By the time I woke up she was long gone. She must have spiked my drinks. I called to cancel the cards, but she’d already run up a bunch of charges. Damn tap. They ought to make tapping debit and credit cards illegal.”
“I’m sorry about that, sir. Can I get you something?” Glory asked.
“I’ll take a beer. Whatever you have on tap is fine.” The man snorted a derisive laugh. “I’ve got a lot of tap going on today.”
He picked up the pint glass Glory had set in front of him and drank half of it in one go. Whoever this guy was, Glory thought, he was a committed drinker.
“Do you have any idea who she was?” the man asked. “She seemed to fit right in.”
“Never saw her before. Or you, for that matter. This is a tourist bar so there’s new people in here all the time.”
“I guess,” mumbled the man before downing the rest of his beer.
“Can I get you another?” Glory motioned to the empty glass. He had decided to comp the guy two beers and leave it at that.
“Sure, I appreciate it.” The man had calmed down considerably since he barged through the door. “I can’t pay, though. I’m waiting for new cards to be couriered.”
“On the house, sir.” Glory said. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Damn straight it is.” Maybe the guy hadn’t calmed down that much.
Glory started organizing things behind the bar.
“This sort of thing happen a lot around here?” the man asked.
“Once in a while I hear about it. Can’t recall it ever happening here at the West Bay and I’ve been here almost ten years.”
“Well, I guess I learned my lesson. Never pick up women in bars.”
Glory questioned who had picked up who but kept it to himself.
The man continued, “The cops told me they’d had reports of a woman and a man both pulling scams like this.”
In truth, Glory’s pal Ben Turner from the local police service, had given him a heads-up just that morning of a co-ed team of con artists in the area. The cops had received several reports of solo travellers taking someone back to their hotel and waking up in the morning to find their money, cards and dignity gone. The police theory was the marks were being drugged with something.
“I’ve got to figure out something to tell my wife when she gets here tomorrow.” The man gulped down the second beer, thanked Glory, and disappeared out the door.
Two beers in less than eight minutes. Impressive, in all the wrong ways.
A few minutes later Pat Mulroney arrived. He typically appeared just before the onset of happy hour to have a quick visit with Glory before the festivities began.
Happy hour on the gulf coast was treated by the tourist class like a moveable feast. Each afternoon and into the evening an ever-changing cast of barflies, vacationers and wandering-eyed types who left their marriage vows in their hotel rooms drifted into the West Bay to listen to Pat’s tales of fancy and, rarely with success, try to drink themselves happy and content. The ritual included, without their knowledge, Glory padding their bar tabs. Glory was almost embarrassed, but not quite, about having added several drinks to the angry man’s tab the night before. At least he hadn’t realized it.
“You remember that guy who was sitting here last night and left with the blond?” Glory asked of Pat.
“The guy with the hollow leg and the young lady with the skirt up to here? What about them?” Pat responded.
“That’s the ones. He was just in here. After he stiffed her, if he could after all he’d had to drink, she stiffed him. Took his cash and cards and skipped out.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve heard of that happening around here. Do you suppose she’ll be back?” Pat asked.
“I hope not.” Glory rapped the bar top with his knuckles.
***
The next day Pat and Glory met for a walk on the beach before Glory had to start his shift.
“I made some calls this morning to some of the other bartenders in town,” Glory was saying. “There’s a lot of these scams going on lately. Seems there’s both a man and woman operating. At least two. There’s either a group of them or they’re very good at changing their appearance. Especially her.”
“Why do I get the feeling that West Bay Investigations is going to get involved in this?” Pat asked.
“You’re the one who wanted us to be private investigators. So, here we are with a case literally coming to our door. Who better to check this out? Think how many people are getting robbed but not reporting it the way it happened. Ben told me they’ve had a real increase in lost wallets that they figure is people getting scammed but not telling that part of the story. Others won’t report it to the police at all.”
“I guess it is pretty embarrassing. I’m not sure I’d report it, and I don’t have a spouse to hide my stupidity from.”
“If there’s anything you don’t do,” Glory said, “it’s hide your stupidity.”
“What do you have in mind, then?” Pat asked, ignoring the insult he thought was a joke.
“Well, tell me what you think about this idea.”
***
On Friday evening, Glory’s friend Jan, the winking waitress, made an appearance at the West Bay Tavern. Glory had finally admitted to Pat that he and Jan were an item, as he put it.
“An item?” Pat had mocked his friend. “How old are you? That’s something my Aunt Mabel would say.”
“Says you,” Glory had snapped.
“Good comeback. You really got me with that one.”
Pat had only ever seen Jan at the diner in her waitress uniform of a blue gingham dress, an apron and the thick soled trainers usually worn by nurses.
This night, for her debut at the bar, she wore heeled sandals, a white denim skirt that ended just above her knees and a white tank top under a light blue shirt tied around her midriff. At the diner she wore her strawberry blond hair pulled back so tight that, as Pat joked, when she blinked, her shoulders hunched. This night, she wore her hair down.
“Well now,” Glory said to her, ” don’t you look fetching.”
“Why, thank you, Glory. That’s very kind of you.” She winked at Glory as Pat stifled a laugh.
Turning to him she said, “Have you something to add, Pat? Do you not find me fetching?”
It was Glory’s turn to chuckle as Pat moved to his usual seat at the end of the bar, feeling a bit sheepish.
With a flourish that only an experienced bartender could muster, Glory created a Tequila Sunrise, placing the colourful drink before Jan the way a child might present to their parent a test they had aced. She took a dainty sip of the drink while Glory turned his attention to the customers beginning to arrive for happy hour.
The bar became increasingly busy as afternoon waned into evening. People crowded around Pat as he told a series of the outlandish stories the tourists found so fascinating.
As Jan’s third drink was nearing the bottom of the highball glass, a handsome man with wavy dark hair and wearing an expensive camp shirt sidled up and offered to treat her to another.
“I’m not sure my boyfriend would approve,” she said.
“I’m not hearing no,” said the man as he signalled to Glory for another Sunrise for Jan and a beer for himself.
Within minutes Mr. Hunk had snuggled up against Jan, his arm across the back of her stool and one foot up on rail along the bottom of the bar, her hip nestled into his crotch. His muscular forearm visibly rippled as he drummed his fingers on the bar.
The multi-hour happy hour finally staggered to a finish. Some of the die-hards hung on after the cheap drinks ended, paying full price but by that time neither realizing nor caring. Pat finished entertaining for the night and did his usual fake stagger out the door. Glory settled tabs as the crowd slowly dwindled. Those still able stumbled off to have dinner at one of the overpriced bistros along restaurant row. The stragglers had another drink while they waited for their cabs and rideshares.
Jan remained in her seat; Mr. Hunk almost draped over her. Glory, tidying up behind the bar, seemed oblivious to Jan and her new friend.
“I’m usually not much of a drinker,” Jan giggled as she spoke to her new friend. “These are hitting me kind of hard.”
Jan was on her fifth Sunrise.
“What do you say we get out of here. Maybe have a bite to eat. Or, if you want, we could go back to your place.”
“Some air would be a good idea.” Jan wobbled getting off the stool. “Then we can think about what to do and where to do it. I’m staying not too far away. Just down the beach, but don’t you get any ideas. Not yet anyway.” She giggled again.
She bumped shoulders with Mr. Hunk and placed a hand on his chest for support.
“Can I call you a cab?” Glory asked the newly formed couple.
“I’m a cab,” Jan sputtered and laughed too loudly.
“We’re okay, thanks,” said Mr. Hunk. “She just needs some fresh air. So do I, for that matter.”
The two of them made their way to the door, Jan clutching his arm. As they pushed through the door Jan turned, looked directly at Glory, and winked.
What the handsome guy didn’t realize was that, after the first round, Glory had been making Jan’s drinks without liquor. If she played her part correctly, the final act of the production would take place in the room she had rented earlier at one of the last beachfront motels remaining among the condo towers.
***
Pat waited in the shadows in the park across the street. He watched as Jan and her new beau emerged from the bar and made a wide, off kilter turn towards the beach. He fell in behind the slow-moving couple as they made their way under lamp posts whose dappled light filtered through the palm trees lining the street.
At the top of the boardwalk leading to the beach they paused while Jan feigned a few dry heaves into the dune grass. Mr. Hunk chivalrously held her hair while she was doubled over.
As they faded into the darkness of the beach Pat saw that Mr. Hunk was grabbing at Jan’s backside while she slapped his hand away. Pat began to have concerns that Jan might be in over her head.
Pat followed along the top of the beach in the shadows near the sedge. The couple walked along the hard sand at the waterline. At one point Jan sat down in the sand and fumbled to remove her sandals.
The earpiece linked to a two-way radio that Pat wore crackled to life.
“What’s happening?” Glory asked.
“They’re heading along the beach towards the motel. Are you sure those weren’t real drinks you were serving her? Either that, or she’s a very good actor. I’d swear she’s actually drunk. She’s currently running through the waves and kicking at the water.”
Glory laughed. “She is an actor. She works with the local little theatre sometimes. I’ve seen her in a couple of things and she’s really good.”
Pat filed that away as his new thing for the day. He wondered just how long Glory and Jan had been seeing each other.
“Where are you?” Pat asked.
“I’m running parallel to you on the street. Literally running. I got hung up with the last few people at the bar whose ride hadn’t showed up and wanted to come back in for another drink.”
“Roger that,” Pat said. “We’re not too far from the motel.”
“Everything’s okay?”
“Jan is handling herself like a pro. This guy is a bit handsy, but she keeps putting him off. He’s not pushing the issue.”
“I’m going straight to the motel and get ready. Let me know when you’re close.”
Pat clicked the mic in reply.
***
Jan fumbled with her clutch purse trying to find the key, dropping her sandals in the process. She bumped repeatedly against the door while she struggled to find the keyhole.
“Let me do that,” offered Mr. Hunk.
“I got it, I got it,” Jan slurred. “I’m okay.”
“I know you are, babe. You really are okay.”
Despite all the nonsense he usually spread when working, Mr. Hunk felt bad for Jan. He didn’t realize how drunk she was until she was staggering along the beach. He was going to feel guilty stealing from her but that didn’t stop him. His guilt never lasted more than a few minutes.
Jan finally got the door open and fell into the room landing on her hands and knees, laughing. She rolled over onto her back and raised her arms.
“Could you give me a hand? I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up,” she giggled.
Mr. Hunk sat her on the edge of the bed. He had decided that there was no need to drug this one. She would soon pass out on her own.
And so, she did.
Jan sat slumped forward for a few moments before she fell over sideways onto the bed. Mr. Hunk tucked her legs up and pulled the bedspread over her. He sat down in a tub chair in the corner and waited until Jan began to breathe so deeply some would call it snoring.
He stood and looked at Jan. She certainly was attractive, and he was tempted. He reminded himself he was a con artist and thief, not someone who molested unconscious women. Such are the twisted morals of the criminal mind.
When he was sure Jan was fast asleep, he went through the clutch purse, removing some cash. The only other items were two condoms and roll of breath mints.
He went through the rest of her belongings and took her debit and credit cards as well as over $200 in cash. He found some earrings but decided they weren’t worth much. He did pocket a gold necklace and bracelet. Pawing through her suitcase he found nothing worth pilfering.
It wasn’t his biggest haul, but it wasn’t bad. He wondered how his partner was making out with her efforts.
He looked again at the sleeping Jan. After placing a trash can next to the bed, he headed for the door. He hadn’t noticed the small camera on the ceiling that looked like a smoke detector.
In the room next door Glory watched on a tablet as Jan was put to bed. The two rooms had an adjoining door they had left unlocked when they set things up earlier in the day. If Jan was in danger at any point, Glory would be able to get into her room to help. As it was, he only had to watch as the man rifled through the personal affects she had carefully curated to make it appear she was a vacationer.
Mr. Hunk peeked out between the curtains into the dark parking lot. Seeing no one he soundlessly opened the door and slowly pushed open the creaking storm door with his hip. Turning his back to the parking lot he pulled the inner door closed.
“Good evening,” said a voice behind him. “It was nice of you to put the garbage can beside the bed in case she hurls.”
He turned to see Glory and Pat standing on either side of him. He recognized them immediately and knew he was in trouble. He leaned his forehead against the door while formulating a plan to talk his way out his predicament. When Jan opened the door, he stumbled forward a half step.
“Grab my ass, will you!” said Jan. “You’re a scumbag.”
With that, she slammed the door as hard as she could.
***
“What happened to him?” Ben Turner asked.
“I think he fell,” said Glory.
“Might have tripped on the curb,” Pat added helpfully.
Turner looked to Jan.
“I was powdering my nose,” she said sweetly.
“Uh huh,” said Ben Turner as he loaded Mr. Hunk in his cruiser. “Pull the other one, why don’t you.”
The handcuffed Mr. Hunk was clutching a threadbare motel towel to his bloodied nose. The goose egg on his forehead was not much smaller than a golf ball.
Once the prisoner was in the back seat of the cruiser Turner filled them in on what else had gone on that night.
“Some guy at one of those big hotels picked up a brunette in the bar and took her back to his room. Just for a drink, he says. He claims he fell asleep and woke up to find her going through his pants pockets. Oddly, he couldn’t explain why he wasn’t wearing his pants when he fell asleep. Anyway, the guy chased her, in his birthday suit, down the hall and cornered her. Hotel security was called by someone who heard all the yelling. The brunette turned out to be a blond but a bottle blond so who knows what colour her hair really is. Anyway, they found naked guy’s credit cards and watch in her pockets along with a bunch of cash. All in all, a pretty good night of crime fighting.”
“Thanks for your help, Ben,” said Glory.
“Thank you. I’ll add it to the list,” Turner replied. “I’d better take buddy-boy here to the hospital to get checked. A guy can really hurt himself falling down.”
As the cruiser pulled away Mr. Hunk looked out the back window at the three people who had caught him so completely off his game.
***
“What’ll it be, boys? Breakfast is on the house today.” Jan was still jazzed after the events of the previous night.
“Jan, you were so great with that guy,” Pat said. “You set the hook and reeled him in like a sunfish.”
“It was fun conning him the way he cons other women, although I didn’t mean to hit him with the door. That must have hurt,” Jan said with a wince. “If he was using his best lines last night, I can’t understand why women are falling for him. The guy is disgusting.”
“You know as well as I do that there’s a lot of lonely people around here,” Glory said. “Vacation is when some people figure they can be someone they’re not and do things they would never do at home. Having made that decision, they then want to make it happen. Lonely and desperate is a bad combination.”
The three of them, immersed in the business of serving the tourist crowd, knew how true that was.
When she brought their meals, Jan winked at Pat and leaned down to kiss Glory on the lips. She smiled at them both and headed for a table where a man was making a check mark signal in the air.
“Are you blushing,” Pat asked Glory.
“What’s it to you if I am?” Glory muttered while getting very interested in spreading jam on his toast.
“You two are so cute as a couple.”
“I’ll cute you if you don’t knock it off,” said Glory.
From across the room Jan winked and blew a kiss at Glory.
Glory blushed again. Then he blew a kiss back to Jan.
[Image Credit : Photo by Zanyar Ibrahim on Unsplash]
by 
M.F. McDonnell
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