I looked at him.
Hondo said, “More like living ones.”
The redhead moved both hands to his head and massaged his temples while his eyes squinted shut. After ten seconds, he opened them and said, “Had Lassie in here once. She had a good time, too.”
I said, “How about Bruce Willis, Tom Cruise, Bob Landman, those guys.”
“Oh sure, Landman was in here last week. Been in three, four times this month. I didn’t know you meant actors, I thought you said stars.”
How do you argue with that? I said, “Did Landman come in alone?”
He rubbed his head again for several seconds, then said, “No sir.”
“Do you remember who was with him?”
“Don’t know their names.”
I said, “How about what they looked like, can you describe them?”
“Uh-huh.”
Silence.
“Would you describe them?”
“Sure.”
Silence.
I said, “Right now. Would you describe them right now?” Dentists didn’t have this much trouble pulling a wisdom tooth.
He appeared testy, “Why didn’t you say so, instead of beating around the bush?” He fiddled with a pen on the counter and sulked for a bit, then said, “There were two of them with him last week, a man and a woman.” He suddenly got a suspicious look on his face and said, “You aren’t with the newspaper are you?”
“No.”
“Okay then. Good, because the papers are full of trash, except for the Enquirer. They know Elvis is still alive and the saucers bring him back to earth regular so he can visit. Now that’s real news if you ask me. Sayy, if you’re with the Enquirer—”
I looked around like I was making sure we were alone. “We are, and you’re pretty darn sharp to catch on like that. In fact, I wrote that Elvis article, met the King himself.”
He grinned and said, “I knew it!”
“It’s between us, okay?” He nodded and I said, “Now, can you describe the man and woman?”
“Sure, the man was tall, kinda scary looking, had long hair. The woman now, she was a looker, I tell you. That one is somebody’s trophy wife or girlfriend.”
“Did the tall man have any tattoos?”
“He had on a coat, and I didn’t see any.”
“Was the woman dark, light, blond, brunette?”
“She was built like a brick shithouse,” he held his hands cupped in front of his chest, “I mean like big firm melons. I didn’t pay much attention to her hair, but I think it was kinda red, maybe.”
“How long did they stay?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could you look?”