“How does The Mongolian sound for eats?”

“That’s the one. I’m so hungry I’m going to order the Genghis Khan Platter. It has half a horse for the appetizer.” The restaurant was just ahead and I eased into the exit lane then turned into the parking lot. As we got out, delicious smells from the kitchen rolled over us. “Your olfactories pick that up?” I said, “Horse feet are a delicacy over there. The secret is they cook the hooves for two years to make them tender. Smells pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“Do they remove the horseshoes?”

“They pry it off and leave it in the bottom of the bowl. Iron’s good for you.”

“I think I’ll stick to my Flintstones chewables.”

We went inside and picked out our items, then took them to the cook who worked with amazing skill on the enormous circular iron cooking top as he seared the ingredients and added our sauces and spices, then returned the now cooked items to new plates. The server led us to a corner and sat us behind a couple of guys who were talking and using their hands for lots of emphasis.

I made Hondo move so I could sit closest to them and eavesdrop. He shook his head, but he’s used to it. I ate and listened.

“I tell you, Bob-O, this is our big chance. It’s not like the cattle calls at open auditions. Just select ones were notified. This is big, and we’re in.”

Bob-O said, “I’m stoked about this, Davester. This is hu-mongo, Mega hu-mongo. A Michael Bay movie with supporting roles that are perfect for us, just perfect!”

Davester said, “It’s a cold read, though. I wish we had the sides; I do better if I can study my sides.”

Bob-O said, “Let’s get there early tomorrow, say eight o’clock. That’s an hour before our schedule time. Maybe they’ll give the sides out and we can go over them. You sure we have the address?”

I heard paper being unfolded and then Davester, God bless him, said, “Got it right here: the Le Montrose, 900 Hammond St., just a couple of blocks south of Sunset. We go to the meeting room.” I heard the paper fold and then Davester leaned forward to whisper, which made me have to lean my head back so far I could see the ceiling.

But it was enough. Davester said, “And our password is…” He paused for dramatic effect, “TBA. It’s secret code for The Bay Auditions. You don’t say that, you don’t get in.”

They high-fived each other and Davester said, “And man, that’s cool.”

Bob-O said, “Yeah, Mike-O always does the cool stuff.”

Mike-O.

I waited for more but there was a sudden silence. I leaned my head further back but neither of the actors was talking. I took a quick look at Hondo. He smiled like he was enjoying something.

Bob-O deepened his voice to make it more threatening, “Mister, this is a private conversation.”

I twisted around to face them. I smiled and stuck out my hand. I said, “Hi fellows, I’m Rafe McCawley, Professor Rafe McCawley, and this,” I pointed to

Hondo, “is Professor Evelyn Johnson.” I pronounced Evelyn as Ev-lin, but Hondo’s eyebrows rose up a little anyhow. “We’re geologists, work for the LA Basin Geologist and Earthquake Prevention Organization,” I pointed up at the ceiling, “See that nano-quake frequency indication up there, Professor?”

Hondo wasn’t playing along. He just looked at me. I turned back to my audience, “That, men, is from the aftershock that went through this area last week.”

Dave-O said, “We had an aftershock? When was the quake?”

“Smart fellow. Are you a geologist too?”

“No, I’m an actor.”

“Well, I’ll continue then. These nano-quake indicators are throughout the area, as you can imagine, but to read them, well, our new research has shown us that ceilings, yes ceilings, may be the breakthrough we’ve been searching for in earthquake prediction.” I patted Bob-O’s arm and said, “You fellows will be happy to know that you-we are sitting on the right side of the restaurant in case of a major quake, which could occur any second by the way.”

“What do you mean we’re sitting on the right side?”

I pointed at the ceiling and said, “This is my crystal ball and it tells me,” I nodded at the other side, “That half of the restaurant is toast. In the next major quake, it will drop into the ocean. But our side, the good side, will suddenly have the best ocean view in Southern California and you can watch all those other patrons surf to Tahiti.”

I leaned closer and said in my most serious tone, “Whatever you do, when you come to The Mongolian, never, ever sit on that side. I’m saving your lives here.”

Bob-O said, “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow back at ya,” I said.

Tags: Billy Kring Mystery
Source: readsnovelonline.net