Story begins Here. Thursday, March 18th, 1993 “Who turned her out?” Kane asked. Clyde put his cigarette in his mouth and sucked on it. Kane watched what he thought were the wheels turning, or at least grinding. Clyde exhaled, turned to Kane, and looked him in the eyes as though staring down danger. “That was …
Story begins Here. Thursday, March 18th, 1993 Art, the bartender at The Red Door, appeared and jolted Kane from his memories. “You okay, boss?” “I’m fine, thanks. Do you know what happened to Stephanie?” “Stephanie?” Art looked around as though the answer to Kane’s question, and perhaps all answers, could be found in the bar, …
Story begins Here. Thursday, March 18th, 1993 Art stood in front of Kane and said, “Another the same?” “Sure.” Kane slid his glass toward the bartender. “That woman at the far end of the bar, the one trying to turn a trick, what’s her name?” Art didn’t look in the woman’s direction. A man who’d …
Thursday, March 18th, 1993 Kane slid onto a stool at the bar, and the bartender, a man named Art, who told his patrons that each drink he mixed was a work of Art, took a ring of keys out of his pocket, knelt behind the bar, turned the key in a lock, and reached inside …
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