Gabe couldn’t forget his night with Deuce.
The way he left, and the things he said, kept haunting him. In spite of it all he wanted to see him again, but he hadn’t been around in days. Since he’d left in such a hurry, and hadn’t told Gabe where he lived, or even where he worked, he looked for him in every man’s face, listened for the sound of his voice in every word spoken, and even found himself club hopping to find him, but no luck. He was so much in his thoughts, he even dreamed of him. Just about the time he had begun to believe he was a figment of his imagination he decided to go to Central Records at the station and have them run a check on him.
“I don’t have much. Just a name. Think you can do anything with that?”
“I’ll try. Are you in a hurry?”
“Well, sure, but it’s personal. J
