I didn’t do my nanowrimo typing on Saturday, so I must to do twice the number of words today. Here is a sample of the first session:

Eric and the Sheriff pulled up to The Lumber Mill, lights spinning. Sheriff Bowden let loose a couple toots with his siren, but nobody spilled out. They could see in the high windows that weren’t blocked by Budweiser posters that the lights were going and they could hear something akin to music pouring out the crack of the front door.

“Looks like they don’t need you to party”, the Sheriff said to Eric.

“Beer, cigarettes and music. It’s all they need. I feel like I’m going to spoil it, walking in there with you.”

“I’ll give you five minutes before I come in. I’ve got to run over to Jack in the Box to try to catch Denton.”

Eric got out of the car and greeted some of the regulars who were smoking out on the sidewalk. At least they were fairly welled trained. He waved and then went inside to see what kind of disaster he had to contend with.

“Hey, it’s Eric!”, someone yelled from the bar.

Sarah and Louise jumped up and down from their position behind the beer taps and waved. Ralph was in the middle of a four layer guitar solo with his looper pedal in full effect, so he was totally oblivious to anything else. Peter nodded as he rolled another keg of Rainier from the cooler. Eric was pretty impressed that everything seemed to be running smoothly, hopefully there was a little cash in the register to cover the cost of all the beer that had been flowing.

“Hey there”, Eric said to Sarah as he walked back behind the bar, “are you in charge?”

“Funny. It’s all yours to continue or curtail as you see fit”, she said, with a flourish.

“We only took over from Sheila when she left to get her husband!”, Louise shouted over the music.

“Has anyone been shot or otherwise injured this evening?”, Eric joked.

“No injuries, mortal or otherwise”, Sarah replied.

“And, the cash flow situation. Has there been a cash flow?”

“Oh, yes. Sheila was only charging a dollar a beer and that got some money in the till. We upped it to two bucks and they just keep paying”, Sarah said.

Eric opened the register draw which was uncharacteristically full of money. Ones and fives, but it was better than nothing. He opened the bar coolers to find that the stock was seriously depleted due to the sale initiated by Mrs. Cross. The bottles only cost sixty five cents a piece off the truck so a buck wasn’t bad if it moved them.

“Did you guys just sell beer? What about the cigarettes?”

“Well, Sheila said she didn’t sell any. She didn’t know what to charge and she hates smokers anyway. I’ve been selling them for ten dollars a pack, drunk people are pretty stupid!”, Sarah said, laughing.

“Ten bucks? How many packs did you sell?”, asked Eric.

Sheila pulled the wad of bills from her pocket. She counted out one hundred and eighty dollars as she laid the money on the bar. “Looks like eighteen. Almost two cartons!”

“Hey, that’s pretty good. Want a job?”, Eric said, kidding.

Peter had finished switching out the kegs and walked over where the conversation was happening. “Do you know why the cops grabbed all of us at the same time?”, he asked Eric.

“The Sheriff had a wild hair up his ass. He found an some junk up there with my prints on it and thought he try to connect me to the investigation of the body parts you all found”, Eric said.

“Yeah, he asked me about an ammo box. I told him it was probably some geocaching thing”, said Peter.

“That’s exactly what I told him, speak of the devil!”, Eric said as the Sheriff sauntered in the to bar, tipping his hat to all the women he passed.

“Looks like a pretty well run house of ill repute, Dotson.”

“These Hoquiamites took the ball and ran with it, sir.”, Eric said, pointing at the two women and Peter.

“Well, hello ladies”, the Sheriff said to Sarah and Louise, “Can I have a taste of something sparking?”

“Are you on duty?”, Sarah asked.

“No, this is just a friendly visit. Rick is showing me around his business and his house, and being very gracious about it, I might add”, the Sheriff said, winking at her.