Read In the Drink for Free Online Page A

fingers over the letters, but I didn’t. I’d already messed things up just by holding it while I read it, and in case Duncan might be able to do something more with it, I didn’t want to contaminate it any further.
    After staring at the page for a while, I closed my eyes, leaned forward, and sniffed. The ink was definitely not your standard variety stuff.
    I realized then that I was going to have to transport the letter from my office to my apartment somehow, and that meant touching it again . . . or maybe not. I left the office and went into the kitchen where my new cook, Jon, was busy at work. I offer a number of food items in addition to drinks, mostly typical bar fare such as deep-fried cheese curds, fries, burgers, sandwiches, and pizzas. While the variety might not be anything unique, I do try to add my own spin to many of the food items to make them stand out.
    Still keenly aware that someone might be in the bar watching my every move, after greeting Jon and telling him for the umpteenth time what a great job he was doing, I spent the next ten minutes or so pretending to inventory supplies, something I’d already done this morning before the bar opened. But I needed to hang in the kitchen for the amount of time it would take to fix a pizza. Once my requisite time had passed, I grabbed one of the empty pizza boxes that I use when customers want to take their leftovers home with them, found a clean pair of tongs and dropped them into the box when Jon wasn’t looking. Then I added two large plastic baggies with zip closures. After closing the box, I also grabbed a plain brown bag, tossed a box of gloves into the bottom of it, and added a few empty containers on top of that to give it some bulk before rolling the top of it closed. I carried both items back to my office, hoping that any onlookers would assume there was food inside them.
    As soon as I was inside my office with the door closed and locked, I emptied the pizza box, picked up the letter using the tongs, and slipped it inside one of the baggies. I then did the same thing with the envelope it came in. When I was done I sealed the baggie, placed it back inside the pizza box, and closed the lid. Next, I took the containers out of the paper bag and gathered up the rest of the “fan mail” I had received over the past few weeks and put all of it in there instead. Finally, after glancing at the clock, I walked over to the alarm control board and disabled the one on the back door to the alley in the original part of the building.
    At two minutes to six, I again stepped out of my office, carrying the closed paper bag in one hand and the pizza box in the other. I made my way down the back hall to where the doors to both my apartment and the basement were located, right next to the alarmed exit to the alley. This next part of my little subterfuge was the riskiest. The back hallway wasn’t visible to the main area of the bar, though anyone going in or out of the kitchen could see down it. It was also where the restrooms were located and if anyone went in or out of those, they would see me. I had to hope for the best and try to time Duncan’s entrance and the opening of the two doors so that anyone entering into the hallway wouldn’t see him or what I was doing. I glanced at my watch, saw it was seconds away from six o’clock, and set down the bag so I could unlock my apartment door and have it ready. Just as I inserted the key in the lock, two female figures entered the hallway headed for the women’s bathroom.
    â€œHey, Mack!” one of the girls hollered down the hall, and as I looked, both of them waved at me. I recognized them as locals who had been in the bar before a few times, though I couldn’t remember either one’s name. I waved back with the hand that had been holding the key, which now dangled from the lock, and balanced the pizza box in my other hand.
    â€œDo you need a hand?” one of the girls