”She led them out the back door and through a washed-out alley, most of the pavement riddled with holes, the dark dirt below visible most of the way. Petra walked at a brisk pace with Tamara right behind her, Hannigan bringing up the rear. She led them to a small sedan and climbed into the driver’s seat. Hannigan motioned Tamara to the back and climbed into the front passenger side.Petra pulled off slowly and turned down a dirt road not far away. Hannigan said, “Any more news of Bridgewater?”“Some. He is in Italy. Genoa, we think.”Tamara asked, “Who is we?”Petra laughed but didn’t answer the question. “He won’t be there long. No idea where he is going next, but I can get you closer to Genoa.”The windows were down and the breeze was a loud whoosh in Tamara’s ears. Hannigan practically shouted, “Has anyone followed us?”The woman shrugged, “Don’t know. Probably. Nothing definitive seen yet.” She caught Tamara’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “There’s water in the bag at your feet.”Tamara’s. I finished off with my pale blonde hair.I left at a little after 6, and drove over to the restaurant and valet parked. I sat at the bar, had a drink and chatted with the bartender (a very cute - and very straight - Hispanic guy), and was just ready to order dinner when the owner came out to join me.We had a nice dinner together (tilapia with mango salsa), and afterwards I said my goodbyes and left the restaurant. Leaving my car parked there, I walked over to the Studio a few doors down, and walked into the bar. I had a seat, and the cute, straight, 19 year old bartender walked over, and told me I looked great. I kidded him a little about really appreciating the compliment from someone who could be my son, and we both laughed. He went to make a few drinks down the bar and I said Hi to a few drag queens I knew, and a hooker who was a regular there when not working.While I was sitting at the bar, though, the bartender kept coming back to me at every opportunity. Curious, I asked him.
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