The Silver Lake Murder by Gregg Matthews (different ereaders txt) 📕

I grew up in one of the cottages down by the Lake. I’ve been gone a long time, though. I moved to New Orleans. I lost my tattoo shop and my girlfriend, Rose, in Hurricane Katrina.”

“Blake, I am so sorry.”

“I came back here to see if Rose came back. I have been asking people who know her but no one has seen her,” Blake says, pointing to Rose’s picture on the wall.

“Oh, Blake, she is beautiful. I haven’t seen her here. Sorry.”

“Thanks, Tracy.”

In his mind, he imagines Rose standing behind the counter taking care of the business end of Rivers Tattoo shop. He can picture her greeting the customers making sure everyone is taken care of. His eyes well up, and he closes them tight a couple of times. He pulls himself together, stands, taking the stencil walking over to Tracy. He notices Tracy has the same crude outline drawing of a Jackal tattooed between her thumb and index finger, like the one he saw on Cindy. He points to the tattoo.

“What’s this symbol, Tracy?”

“A mistake.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a Jackal. It has to do with the bar I work at.”

“The Lakeview Lounge?”

“Yes, the Lakeview Lounge. I want you to tattoo over it next time I come in.”

“OK, Tracy. You must have known Cindy Flynn, right?”

“Cindy was my friend.”

“Tracy, what can you tell me about the Lakeview Lounge?”

“I don’t know much, but there is a guy Lester he is the maintenance man at the Lakeview Lounge he fixes everything. He knows a lot about the Lakeview Lounge and Luke’s businesses. Ask him about The Devil’s Den on the top floor,” Tracy says.

“The Devils Den, I will. Thanks!”

Watching as Tracy stands up and takes off her T-shirt. She is showing a toned body, green bra, with light white skin. The green bra holds in her round, shapely flesh. She has long curly brown hair with light blue eyes. She has a long face. She is tall, five feet ten inches tall. He breathes in her perfume which seems to enhance her looks to him. She lies down on her stomach on top of the black leather reupholstered massage table. He remembers what he was doing and prepares to put the tattoo on her shoulder blade.

The snapping sound of rubber gloves and new needles being opened lets the customer know he runs a clean, sanitary tattoo shop. He lays the stencil on her shoulder blade. She stands up and looks at the tattoo outline in the mirror on the wall. She is happy with the

placement and overall look. She lies down on her stomach again and is ready for her new tattoo. The buzzing noise of the tattoo needle begins. He dips the needle into the black ink and starts the outline of the memorial tattoo on her shoulder blade.

Some time passes, about one hour, and he can see Tracy is having trouble sitting still. Her feet are moving, and she is shrugging her shoulders. She is trying to look behind her. He can tell she has had enough for one day. The tattoo is complete.

“Finished, Tracy,” Blake says.

“Thank God,” Tracy says, giggling a little.

Starting the process of shutting the workstation down, he shows Tracy her new tattoo in a hand mirror and begins covering it up with a bandage before helping her get her T-shirt back on.  He looks her in the eyes and can tell she is going to tell him something. He waits patiently for what she is about to say.

“The last time I saw Cindy alive was Saturday night, July 4th. Luke had a business meeting. Cindy, Shannon, Megan, and I were the four waitresses who worked the meeting. The meeting was upstairs inside The Devil’s Den. There were four bikers who rode in for the meeting, from out of town,” Tracy says.

Holding his emotions in check while looking her in the eyes, he can see she is scared. She stands up crying slightly, she hugs him tightly. He takes a minute to gather himself. Tracy pays her tab and walks back to the Lakeview Lounge.

“Wow,” Blake shouts.

“Unbelievable,” Billy shouts back.

The bell over the front door gets his attention. Another waitress dressed the same as Tracy from the Lakeview Lounge comes into the tattoo shop.

“Blake,” Blake says, extending his right hand.

“Shannon,” Shannon says, shaking his hand.

Shannon lets him know she wants the same memorial tattoo as Tracy. Blake and Shannon stand, at his workstation while he prepares to do the tattoo work. He tells Shannon what she needs to do as well.

“Cindy was my friend.”

“Mine too,” Blake says quietly.

Shannon stands up and takes off her T-shirt, showing a toned body with tanned skin, and a large, round, black full bra. She has long, straight dark hair with dark eyes, high cheekbones and a straight white smile. She is small in height, about five feet tall.

The buzzing sound of the tattoo needle begins. There is some small talk between Blake and Shannon during the tattoo work but nothing too deep. After one hour or so, the buzzing sound of the tattoo needle stops.

“Finished, Shannon,” Blake says.

“Great,” Shannon says painfully.

“Shannon, what can you tell me about the Lakeview Lounge?”

“I don’t know much, but there is a guy his name is Lester. Ask him about The Punchbowl in the basement of the barn,” Tracy says.

“The Punchbowl, I will. Thanks!”

The tattoo work on Shannon is complete, and she makes her way out the door, and back to the Lakeview Lounge.

“Hey?” Blake shouts.

“I heard,” Billy shouts back.

Some time goes by, Blake straightens up his workstation. He orders some more supplies from the website. The bell over the front door gets his attention. Another waitress dressed the same as Tracy and Shannon from the Lakeview Lounge comes into the shop.

“Blake,” Blake says, extending his right hand.

“Megan,” Megan says, shaking his hand.

She is asking for the same tattoo as Tracy and Shannon.

“Cindy was my friend.”

“I understand,” Blake says quietly.

Blake has Megan stand at his workstation while he prepares to do the tattoo work. He tells Megan