Party Crashers

Gary's box of belongings?
    No! It was the note he'd scribbled illegibly on the back of a brochure: hardy manuals . At the time she had thought it was nonsensical, but maybe there was a connection.
    On impulse, she withdrew her cell phone from her bag. "Is there a number on the matchbox?"
    Carlotta recited it as Jolie dialed.
    The phone was picked up on the second ring. "Manuel's Tavern."
    "Yes, is Hardy, working tonight?"
    "Yeah, he takes over for me at the bar in about an hour."
    Jolie's pulse picked up. "Thanks." She disconnected the call. "Want to take a field trip?"
    Carlotta shrugged. "Sure. I got my new wheels from the impound lot this morning—that was a degrading experience. Are we going to Manuel's?"
    Jolie nodded, more excited than she'd been since...last night, with Beck. She pushed the thought from her mind. "Why don't you call Hannah and have her meet us there?"

    * * *

    Manuel's was a neighborhood tavern, full of customers who moved around the bar and the crowded tables with familiarity. The furnishings were old and eclectic: scarred tables, mismatched chairs, a beer can collection, faded photographs. The patrons themselves ran the gamut from suited businessmen shooting pool to dusty laborers ordering from menus. Even so, Hannah stood out, dressed in what could only be described as gothic guerilla. She was sitting at the bar glaring at her cigarette as if she might simply eat it and dispense with the formality of smoking.
    "You're going to have to work on looking more approachable," Carlotta commented wryly as she and Jolie slid onto stools on either side of her.
    Hannah blew smoke into the air. "I managed to save you seats, didn't I?"
    Carlotta winked at Jolie. "Bad day in cooking school, Hannah?"
    She ground her cigarette in an ashtray, twisting it until it broke, exposing the fibrous filter. "Russell filed assault charges, the wimp."
    Jolie winced.
    "I thought that's why you liked him," Carlotta said lightly. "Because he's a wimp."
    Hannah gave her a wry smile. "Ha ha."
    "You're going to get the last laugh," Carlotta said. "Can't you visualize the courtroom? He'll be in his Brooks Brothers special, and you'll soar in like Elvira and he'll be a big fat laughingstock. The courtroom regulars will crucify him from the gallery."
    Hannah managed a little smile. "You're right. That will be a rush."
    "Hannah," Jolie asked, "does Russell have a tattoo on his wrist?"
    She nodded. "Yeah, a tiny thing, four hands or four arms or something. I remember teasing him that it looked like some kind of sissy Boy Scout badge." She looked at Jolie. "Did you bring the picture Carlotta told me about?"
    Jolie nodded and withdrew the photo from her purse.
    Hannah studied the picture, shaking her head. "Can you believe that your boyfriend and my boyfriend knew each other? Small world, isn't it?" She frowned, then flicked her finger against Russell's wife's face.
    Carlotta gave Jolie a sideways glance, lifting her eyebrow.
    A plump woman bartender came down to the end of the bar and gave it a swipe with a hand cloth. "What can I get for you ladies?"
    "Gin and tonic," Carlotta said.
    "Same for me," Jolie said. "I was told that Hardy was working the bar tonight."
    The woman looked across the room. "Har-dee!"
    A slender middle-aged man serving a tray of drinks looked up.
    The bartender pointed to the women. "Fans of yours."
    The man tucked the empty tray under his arm and ambled over, sporting a communal grin. "What can I do you for, ladies?"
    Jolie leaned forward. "Actually, I was hoping to ask you a few questions."
    His eyes narrowed. "You a cop?"
    "No. I'm looking for some information about a friend of mine, Gary Hagan."
    He nodded, his expression more congenial. "Yeah, Hagan. Likes fancy beer. I haven't seen him around here for a while. How is he?"
    "Um, not well," Jolie said ruefully while trying to control her excitement at finding someone who actually knew Gary. She took the photo from Hannah and extended it to him. "I understand that this photo was taken here. I thought you might help me identify some of the people in it."
    He squinted at the picture. "Yeah, it was taken here all right. Let's see—that's Hagan, right?"
    She nodded.
    "This guy's name is Coffee, I think, and that's Russell Island." He looked up. "He's kind of a pansy-ass, always orders a frozen drink."
    Carlotta snickered and Hannah gave her a deadly look.
    Hardy shook his head. "I've seen these other guys in here, usually with Hagan, but I don't know who