Twenty-Six Years Ago
A cop in blue uniform enters the bar. “Would you be Angelo?”
The barman pauses in swiping a towel through a glass, brow wrinkling. “That’s me, yes. Something I can do for you?”
“I’m looking for a woman who frequents here. Goes by the name of Mitch.”
The brow uncreases, his expression flattening. “Mitch? Barely seen her the last few weeks.”
“When did you last see her?”
Angelo pays strict attention to his polishing. “Couldn’t say.” His cloth works tight circles over the glass.
Taking off his sunglasses, the cop props elbows on the bar. “We know that she hangs out here, soliciting.”
The circles slow. “She never did any soliciting that I saw. I mean, she knew how to pull a guy, but that’s different altogether isn’t it? Nothing illegal there.” The barman bends to hi
