"Hit me, Ray."

"You sure?" The bartender frowned down at him. "Aren't you supposed to lay off the heavy stuff?"

Bryce cocked an eyebrow, annoyed. "Do I look drunk to you?"

"C'mon, you know I'm only looking out for you."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm in a reckless mood tonight. Think of it as financial support for your fine establishment."

Ray snorted, mollified, but lines of worry remained on his brow as he scanned the near-empty room. "I wonder how long this is going to last? Another couple of weeks of this kind of business and you'll have to find another watering hole."

"Business been bad?"

He asked the question but, of course, he knew. Business was scraping the bottom of the barrel and still coming up empty.

"I know week nights are slow," Ray replied, "but ever since that killer came to town, every night's a week night here."

Bryce restrained a smile. "It's been months, hasn't it, and the police still haven't caught the guy."

"Ah, what do the fuzz know? All they seem to be good at are fining people for jaywalking." He grimaced. "So, what can I get you?"

Bryce reached for the wallet that sat on the counter, opened it and pulled out a twenty. He laid it down next to his empty glass.

"Scotch on the rocks," he said. "Make it the good stuff."

Ray turned away, choosing a bottle from the second shelf.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" the bartender asked. "Usually you're only good for one drink then you're gone."

He swung around again and set the glass down, whisking away the empty with his free hand. Bryce watched the condensation forming on the side of the clear container and the ice cubes as they clinked merrily in a small pool of pale amber liquid.

"You waiting for someone?" Ray prodded.

"Just wanted to get out for a bit." Bryce grimaced. "You know how it is. The four walls start closing in and all you can think of doing is escaping."

"I know all about that. In fact, the way things are going, this place is starting to resemble a coffin to me. Same amount of life too."

Bryce chuckled.

"Say, would you like something to eat? Pete's in the back going stir-crazy. Comes in every day like clockwork, but nobody wants to eat anything anymore. Maybe they think it might make them a target or something."

"Not tonight, Ray. I'm not feeling very hungry."

A movement at the corner of his eye caught Bryce's attention. It was another drinker, male and morose, signalling by waving his hand in the air.

"I'll just sit on this for a while," Bryce added.

"Sure thing, but if you want anything, just holler. And"--Ray looked away for a moment, a bit abashed--"it's nice to see you back here again."

Bryce raised his glass in a bit of a salute. "Nice to be here again."

He watched as Ray walked away to tend to the other customer.