Chapter Twenty-Seven

They pushed open the door of the Bellona Grill and were struck by the warm aroma of garlic, tomato sauce and fresh pesto. A nondescript girl in black reached inside her podium for a couple of menus. "Table for two?"

"No, thank you," Brent said. "We're just going to the bar."

Joe was already making his way toward the long mahogany bar, and Brent paused a moment to admire its baroque scrollwork. "I wonder where they got this antique," he murmured to Joe as they pulled up bar stools. "It's gorgeous."

Joe glanced around but was unimpressed. "Nice craftsmanship," he acknowledged, "But it would look a damn sight better if there was a bartender back there."

Before Brent could answer, a gnome-like man, hair and mustache defiantly red, pushed through the kitchen door, ducked under the service counter and hurried over. "Hello, gentlemen." He briskly slapped a cocktail napkin in front of each of them. "What can I get you?"

"Well, actually--" Joe started, but clamped his mouth shut when Brent kicked his stool.

"How about a Bombay on the rocks," Brent said.

"You got it." The bartender turned to Joe. "You, sir?"

Joe begrudgingly ordered a Budweiser. When the bartender went to get their drinks, Joe turned on Brent. "I thought we were going to ask about Perry and get the hell out of here."

"We've got to be social," Brent said patiently. "He might get suspicious."

Joe picked up his cocktail napkin and began shredding it. "We don't have all day."

"And what else are we going to do without knowing how to find this guy?"

Before Joe could answer, the bartender returned and set their drinks in front of them. "How about some menus?"

Brent started to accept, but Joe cut him off. "We already had lunch, thanks."

"So would you like to keep the tab open, or will this be all?"

While Joe reached for his wallet, Brent took a sip of his drink and pretended to look around the room. "I guess this will be all," he said, seeing that Joe had taken out a twenty and set it on the bar. "But actually we were hoping to see Perry. I guess he's not working today?"

"Nope," the bartender said. "He's on vacation for a few days. He should be back next week. Tuesday, I think."

Joe grabbed his beer and took a long desperate pull at it.

"That's too bad," Brent said. "I needed to talk to him."

"Friend of his?"

"Just an acquaintance. I'm actually a friend of John and Julie who were in town visiting not too long ago. But I wanted to see him because I have some good news for him."

"Why don't you just call him?"

"I hate to bother the guy, if you say he's on vacation."

"He's not going anywhere. Not out of town, at any rate. He's taking some time off so he can move."

Brent sat a little straighter. "How nice for him. Where to?"

"Oh, nearby." Just then a waitress called to him from the end of the bar. "Gotta go do some work, I guess. I'll be right back."

After a few minutes the bartender returned. By now the men's drinks were low. "Another round?"

Joe and Brent exchanged glances. "We really ought to go find Perry," Brent said cautiously. "Where did you say he was moving to?"

"Around here." The bartender picked up Joe's twenty. "But you can probably still catch him at his old place."

"And where is that?" Brent jiggled the ice in his glass tried to appear detached. "I mean, I went there once for a party, but that was awhile back and I don't remember exactly."

"Bona Dea." The man handed Joe his change.

"I'm sorry?"

"Bona Dea," he said again. "You know, that small complex on Jupiter Street near the freeway." His bushy eyebrows came together in a frown. "You ought to remember it if you've been there before," he said. "Hard to forget that miserable rat-trap."

"Oh, right. I do remember now. I remember thinking that place was kind of... small for someone making such good money."

The bartender laughed. "I know that's right, but the place he's moving to is real nice. It's one of those townhouses over near the museum. You know, the new brick ones they just built. The three-story ones."

"Hey, those are nice," Brent said appreciatively. "Staying at Bona Dea and saving his money sure paid off."

"I'll say it did." Two more waitresses waved to him from the end of the bar. "What do they want now?"

Joe and Brent jumped to their feet. "Don't let us keep you from your work," Joe told him.

"Thanks a lot for your time, though." Brent added.

"Hey, no prob." The bartender started to head toward the service well, then stopped. "When I see Perry again, should I tell him you came by?"

"No need," Brent called over his shoulder as he and Joe headed toward the door. "I'm sure we'll see him before you do."

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