Friday Night Frights 6

Chapter 6

   Billie Turner slapped his hand on the bar and demanded another beer. He wiped his sticky hand on the back of his jeans. When his beer arrived, he carried it over to the darkest spot in the pub. It was a seat that the pub owner of William the Fourth always reserved for him. He pulled out a folded paper from his back pocket.

  
    An unmarked envelope was dropped off at his front door about three days ago. He didn’t know what to make it of it at first. Then he called the phone number that was written with a shaky hand at the bottom of the letter. It was time to re-read it for the third time.


     Dear Detective Inspector Turner,

   
   My wife went to have her eyes checked almost six weeks ago and didn’t return. I went to the police, but they weren’t interested. They kept asking me if she ran away with a lover or if she went to visit her mother in Norfolk. I personally called her mother. She told me that she hasn’t seen her for two months. The thought of her having a lover really hurts me.

  
    Please help me figure this out.

   
   Jim Hardwick


   P.S. Please phone me as soon as you get this letter. I’ve added it below.


   Anxiously Waiting Your Call.


   Billie folded the letter and placed it back in his back pocket. He called him that night. Something in his voice kept him interested in this case. A fresh pint of beer landed on the table. Condensation rolled down the glass and created a tiny pool of water.

  
    “Hey, Billie! Happy retirement day.”

   
    His best friend Marc sat down opposite him with his own pint.

   
   “Retirement shtirement. Cheers!”

  
    They clinked pints and drained it in one go.

   
   “What’s the plan Billie? Are we going to pull tonight or what?”

   
   “I always pull, I don’t know about you.”

  
    Marc eyed a familiar pair of legs. They moved towards him and stopped. He looked up and hid his face from her.

   
   “You! Why did you leave so quickly last night?”

  
    A tall blonde with short wavy hair and bright pink lipstick stood with her hands at her hips.

  
    “Ugh, family emergency.”

   
   “Liar!”

   
   She grabbed Billie’s fourth pint and threw it at his crotch.

   
   “Oh My God! Crazy woman!”

   
   He stood up with more beer dripping down his legs. Billie grabbed his arm and pulled him down.

  
    “Calm down, this happens to you almost every other night.”

  
    “Yeah, well, I haven’t done my washing.”

  
    “Pizza at your place?”

   
   “Deal! You get the beers.”

   
   Billie pulled out the letter again.

   
   “What do you think of this Marc?”

  
    He held the letter by its corners as if it’s contaminated. Years on the force trained him to not leave traces behind.

   
   “It looks like you need to book an eye test.”

   
   “I think you’re right.”