Wayne savored the sip of bourbon on his tongue, as the vapors drifted about. He looked over his glass at the Snitch and kept listening.
The Snitch (he preferred to have the article accompany his title) was an expert at nothing more than secondary research over the internet. But with a twist. He could find subscription information free. That was one reason Wayne enjoyed using him as a resource. The fact that he owned this bar was the other. It was on the house.
Wayne watched the Snitch talk with his hands. Very expressive, and he marveled how the Snitch could gesture, point, pontificate, and otherwise signal with his hands while holding a full shotglass and cigarette in one hand. Consequently, this was the hand that did most of the talking.
The Snitch paused, checked his cell phone, grunted, turned it off, and skidded it across the bar, still mainly empty at 2 o'clock on a sunny afternoon.
While this obviously a signal that Something Happened, Wayne did not know if it was related to this case, if the Snitch snitched for someone else, or if it was one of his waitstaff calling in sick.
At any rate, it didn't seem to distract the Snitch from his story anymore. Wayne took a deep breath and resumed his multi-sensory conversation.
Wayne had met the Snitch years before. In fact, Wayne had rescued him from kidnappers who had mistaken him for the son of a wealthy businessman. The kidnappers had threatened to get ugly, and Wayne did get ugly, brutally taking their mistaken prize from them, unharmed and no worse for wear. In doing so, the kidnappers became sort of local celebrities as a band of misfit idiots who were more of a danger to themselves than anything else. Eventually they got gunned down while robbing what they thought was a bank, but turned out to be a clothier.
For that, the Snitch, as it should be, perpetually owes Wayne, or so the Snitch maintains. Wayne did acknowledge that he does pay for the information, so it's not really that exploitative.
And he caters a mean party.
Wayne got up. They shook hands, and Wayne headed for the door. He blinked for a moment in the bright sun. He turned right and headed on his way.
