Yes to Maybe by Jacob Power

Author:Jacob Power
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: crime fiction free, crime jobs, crime fiction short, short story, crime ebook, booze, crime, crimefiction, crime short story, crime short fiction

He opened the front door, stepped inside, and closed the door as quietly he could. Crouching down in the corner Tim waited for his eyes to adjust while listening for the slightest noise. He only heard his own breathing, which he was trying to control. Ten minutes past, before his legs cramped to the point where he needed to stand. As he stood both knees popped. He cringed at the sound and reprieve this brought remaining motionless a few moments more. He stepped slowly into the main room gazing through the shadows. He could make out certain objects, and areas, but nothing much more. He could see the bar, but not past it. He could see most of the tables and chairs, but not in the dark corners where most of them sat. Reaching over with his left hand he felt around for the light switch, found it, and clicked it on. The first places he looked were the dark corners in hopes of flushing out any would be hiders to his seeking. Again, he found nothing. He sighed in relief having felt that if someone were there, then he would have a fight on his hands. He walked to the bar, placed the bat on the surface, and took in what was before him. Without thinking he turned and walked to the cooler in the back. He opened the door, stood in the doorway as he flipped on the light and appraised the situation. He headed for the safe with a sinking feeling in his gut. Tim’s hands shook as he dialed in the combination. When he reached the final number and turned the handle with it’s familiar click he swung open the door. He reached in and pulled out a piece of folded paper and read the note scribbled on it.

“Son of a bitch,” he said. Tim returned to the bar and opened all the coolers inspecting the contents. He opened the cash register and found a similar note like he found in the safe. He grabbed the receiver of the phone. For a slight moment Tim wasn’t sure if he was going to make a phone call or beat the telephone into the bar until it splintered into a thousand pieces. His emotions raged with stuttering inconsistency as one moment brought on rage while the next he wanted to burst out laughing. He absently dialed in the number with the hand still holding the notes. On the fourth ring there was a sleepy hello said from the other end of the line.

“Well,” said Tim, “You did it. You got it all.”

“What?” said the man. “Who is this?”

“It’s ‘Your Guy,’” said Tim. “You know him?”

“Oh yeah,” said Mickey “How is My Guy? I take it not too good since I’m getting a phone call from you at this hour.”

“You’re God damn right,” said Tim. “I’ve spent the entire night at my bar waiting for Desmond to show up.”

“And how did that go for you?” said Mickey. “He ever show?”

“I don’t know how the hell he did it, but no.

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