Swallow the Moon by K A Jordan

Author:K A Jordan [K A Jordan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-07-10T14:00:00+00:00

October 8th, Ashtabula Harbor

The old lift-bridge that spanned the Ashtabula River gave Bridge Street its name. In summer the bridge rose every hour to let pleasure craft out of the marinas onto Lake Erie. The quaint shops lining Bridge Street catered to the wealthy boat owners. During the day, the brick buildings oozed charm to delight passing motorists; after sunset the mood on Bridge Street changed.

The Harbor had a dark reputation that went back to the 1880's when it was the Barbary Coast of the Great Lakes. The street had gone from derelict to trendy and back a couple of times in June's lifetime. Tonight the street was decorated for the fall, with hardy flowers in big tubs dotting the sidewalk.

At the center of Bridge Street was a three story, red brick building that had once been a hotel. The Iroquois Club building dated back to the 1890's. It had been a bar for more than a hundred years. Tonight a scattering of people came and went through the doors.

As she got out of her car, June wondered how many people had passed through the heavy wooden doors over the years. Eric was waiting just inside the door. The guy checking ids and collecting cover charges from everyone else stamped her hand without asking for either. He smiled at Eric beside her, then turned to the next person in line.

"Thanks, Tyler." Eric stood aside to let her in.

She stepped into the dark wood-paneled hallway, with a room like a parlor to the left, and a mahogany staircase on the right that led up to the second floor. The carpeting was dark red, the trim black, the walls to the left a smoke-stained white, the rest paneled with wood dark with age. None of the stories she'd heard about the Harbor had mentioned its smoky grandeur. Straight back, the long bar was full of people; they all seemed to be staring at her. June froze at the end of the hallway realizing she was overdressed. She was the only woman in a skirt and heels. Most of the rest wore jeans or very short skirts.

"You want to sit at a table?" Eric asked her when she stopped moving.

"Sure." June let him lead her to a table. "Is there a quiet corner somewhere?"

"Not tonight," Eric quipped. "But we can get a table off to the side."

"What's up, Eric?" The waitress was dressed in jeans and burgundy tee shirt that proclaimed "Iroquois Security" in white. "What can I get for you?"

"I'll take a draft beer." Eric grinned at the waitress as he leaned back and crossed his legs.

"The same." June looked down at her hands.

"Be right back with two drafts." The waitress threaded her way through the crowd, taking orders as she went.

"How do you know her?" June asked. The guy at the door had let her in for free and now the waitress called Eric by name.

"I live upstairs," Eric raised an eyebrow. "She works here."

"Oh." It was a strange feeling – she was out of her element, while he was right at home.

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