The Greek Coins Affair by Rick Adelmann

Author:Rick Adelmann
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Columbine Publishing Group, LLC

Chapter Nineteen

Dancing for Clues

After a short drive over the empty roads of Medina, we reached Tucker Street. This led us through a lovely country neighborhood to the Medina Lounge, located outside of Kelly Park. They designed the lounge as a large woodland cabin, nestled into a crop of fir and pine trees.

The trees engulfed the tavern as the branches hovered over its shingled roof. The streets were better lit than those around Billy’s Place, which gave it a more cheerful atmosphere.

I pulled into the well-maintained parking lot that overflowed with expensive and sporty motor vehicles. “Now this is more like it,” I said to Garth as I pulled up the brake.

“Yes, in this location, you’re the one who seems out of place. It can’t be helped. We’ll go in together. They won’t throw you out with me by your side.”

“Indeed,” I said, a bit aggravated. “I don't believe I appear that unfashionable.”

Garth gave me a slap on the back, grinning cheerfully. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

We stepped through the double doors and entered a sparkling, bright room with crystal lights hanging from every rafter. It didn’t give the illusion of a mountain cabin as the outdoor façade had. Tall mirrors covered the north and west walls of the lounge from floor to ceiling. The windows gave it the appearance of a sunny summer day, not a cold February night.

I looked around and thought that it must be an exciting place for all young people in the area to visit. The crowded dance floor held almost all women, who danced unapologetically with both genders.

A maître d’ welcomed us at the entrance, offering us seats. Garth requested a corner table. After being seated, where we could observe the bustle of the crowd, we were served our drinks. Normally, I don’t consume much alcohol, but since becoming an investigator with Garth, I’d been indulging a little too much. I ordered a mug of imported Swiss beer. Garth had a shot of bourbon on ice. “The secret is to sip your drink leisurely. Give the impression that you’re a heavy drinker, but sip, keeping your wits about you.” Garth had an uncanny ability to read my mind.

“How did you know what I was thinking?” I asked, my glare boring into him.

He grinned, a twinkle in his blue eyes, “I’ve been there. In this business, you spend a lot of time in bars of every sort. If you don’t have a drink in front of you, you appear out of place. Now, look about you, learn what you can from the clientele,” Garth said. The hat-check girl had taken our overcoats and hats. We comfortably leaned back.

The jazz band stood on the large podium at the opposite side of the room. The band might have been a unit of Buffalo Soldiers that I came across in the west. They were enthusiastically playing an up-tempo piece that got my toe to tapping. The thirty or more young dancers were happily engaged in the camel walk, the foxtrot, or the Maxie, moving to the beat and rhythm energetically.

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