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"Sam," he said. "Leave it well enough alone." I stared at Dan's pen. I couldn't look him in the eye just then, and not just for the usual reasons. It was a good pen. Fountain, gold on black dragon design. Me and the old gang got it for him back when he left the guild. Before it all got to be too much. Before it all fell apart and we all went our separate, tragic ways. "I like your pen," I said. He winced. Definitely got him with that one. I'm not so great at reading emotion, but I'm sure he felt shame. Score one for Sam. "Sam, I know we were friends. Are. Are friends. That's why I'm telling you to leave it. For your own good." I kept staring at his pen. The curve of the dragon's spine. The delicate scales. I'm a big fan of dragons. I wondered if Dan really appreciated that pen as much as I would've. "For gently caress's sake, Sam!" He raised his voice. It made me edgy. Bad memories dating way, way back. "There's just you and me now. We're all that's left. They got Tommy two years ago! He's gone. Won't answer his email. Hasn't been online. I finally called up his mother. Know what she told me? He won't touch the computer anymore. Too many bad memories. Wouldn't even tell him I called because it'd send him in a fit. Is that how you want to end up!?" I didn't like him yelling at me. I knew I was winning - he'd lost his temper, but it was still real hard to take. The pen was something to focus on while it all washed over me. "Fine." He jerked the pen away. That startled me, but he didn't notice. He was too busy with his ink-well ritual. "If that's how you want to play it, Sam, fine. There's a comic shop on the corner of Brice and Main. Not one of the big names. Little mom and son place, though she doesn't come downstairs too much. Here's the address." He slid a paper over. I nearly took it when I saw his hand twitch. Don't worry, Danny. I remember. I leaned forward and blew on the ink. No splatters. No mess. "It really is a nice pen, Dan," I said. "I know, Sam." He sunk back into his chair. Tears stained his cheeks. "I know." Paper in hand, I turned and walked out, leaving poor old Danny alone with his demons. I'd never see him alive again.
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May 21, 2014 19:51
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| # ¿ May 15, 2024 19:32 |
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I think a lot of these are Max R. Able, MRA investigator. It's an easy mistake to make, they share the same office building. swampland posted:I found him half asleep at the bar in the Ace Tavern, a washed up grifter getting grifted by the bottle. Thousand drunks just like him at a thousand joints in this city but Larry was special. Larry was the last man to see Margaret Johnson before she disappeared. But this owns.
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May 22, 2014 07:44
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EngineerSean posted:holy poo poo Its less impressive once you know how posting weird and pretty autistic detective stories on SA used to be my biggest gimmick. I've done it a whole lot.
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May 22, 2014 09:47
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