Scooby
Isat inthe Howlers’ booth at the back of the Spotted Frog, quietly drinking myself into a bad mood. Not that it took much to get me there these days. Personally, I preferred drinking at Smiley’s, but the loyal road veterans taking up space on Smiley’s barstools wouldn’t get me closer to the scumbag who murdered Scrappy. So, here I was on neutral territory, drinking, watching, and waiting. Waiting for Li’L Frisco, or anyone that may know him, to walk through the doors. Waiting for an opportunity to avenge my little brother.
As the afternoon dragged on, the cloud over my head grew darker. I stared at a group of tough guys playing pool across the room, psychically willing them to start shit with me. I was looking for any reason to spill blood, but so far, they hadn’t so much as glanced in my direction.
I sighed and accepted the scotch the bubbly new waitress handed me. She looked like she’d been sent here by central casting to play the part of the fresh-off-the-bus, starry-eyed girl who’d left Kansas to pursue her dream here in the big city. Except this wasn’t a movie set, and Monument was as far from the bright lights of the big city as you could get.
“Is there anything else I can get you…” she leaned in, reading my patch, “…Scooby?”
Jesus, she wasn’t gonna last a week in this shithole.
“No, I’m good.”
“Well, my name’s Phillipa, if you change your mind.” She grinned. “Everyone calls me Pippa.”
That was when I heard her thick accent. I cocked my head. “Where you from, Pippa?”
She grabbed a towel and wiped down the table quickly. “New Zealand.”
I chuckled to myself. New Zealand,the Kansas of countries.
“You’re a long way from home, huh?” I observed.
“Yeah.”
“Runnin’ from or to somethin’?”
She bit her lip. “Don’t know yet.”
“Pippa!” Sid, the day manager, bellowed. “Order up, table four.”
“Gotta go,” she said, turning on her heel and rushing to the bar.
I noticed my current ‘babysitter,’ Squeaker, say something to her, but she shook her head and continued to the bar. Squeaker slid in across from me and grinned over at Pippa. “She’s smokin’ hot.”
“She also doesn’t seem to be interested in your dumb ass,” I pointed out.
He shrugged. “Yet.”
“Squeak,” I warned.
“Don’t worry, I’m not creepin’ on her.”
“Good. Now, why the fuck are you creeping onme? I told you to sit over there and make me forget you’re even here.”
I shot my drink, setting the glass down just as Squeaker glanced at his phone. “I know. It’s just…”
“What?”
“Wrath needs me over at Nocturn,” he said.
“Then, go.”
“Sundance gave strict instructions…”
I glared at the young patch. “I don’t need a fuckin’ babysitter.”
He didn’t respond.