“Well, Genghis,” Jennifer said, as she took a sip of coffee, “it is just a cartoon.” Then something came to her. “Hey guys? Let’s go to the movies.”
“That sounds swell, Twinkie,” Jeff beamed while finishing his coffee.
“Yeah! It’ll be fun, and Jeff, no one uses the word ‘swell’ anymore. You sound like a preppy 1950's Ivy League college student. Why don’t you just call me Babs and ask if I want to play badminton?”
“What?”
“Yeah, you two go ahead, have fun,” Genghis said, with a dejected tone to his voice. “I’ll stay here and find something to do.”
“No, Genghis. Come with us,” Jennifer said.
“Do they allow human canines in movie theaters?”
“Oh, that’s right!” Jennifer replied, then thought for a moment. “Well . . . they will if you’re a service dog.”
“A service dog, huh? I’m intrigued,” Genghis said, as he sat on the couch next to her. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”
“Well, Genghis, you’ll have to wear a leash but we can say . . .” Jennifer looked up to the ceiling as she thought. “We can say that Jeff is prone to grand mal seizures, and you’re his service dog that can alert him to an oncoming fit.”
“Human canines can do such things?” Genghis asked.
“Sure they can,” Jennifer confirmed. “They can sniff out drugs and explosives at the airport, and I heard a story a couple of years ago about a beagle that could detect certain cancers in people.” She nudged Genghis in the ribs with her elbow. “Don’t feel so bad about being a dog now, huh?”
“I wouldn’t go that far, Twink . . .”
“I’ll get the leash!” Jeff interrupted.
“Oh, right!” Genghis said, watching Jeff go into the kitchen pantry. “You’ve been trying to get that thing hooked to me ever since we got here!”
“Don’t worry, Genghis,” Jennifer said, rubbing his back. “We won’t put it on until we get to the theater.”
“You sure? I think we should get him used to it now.” Jeff had the leash in hand.
“Keep it up, Mister Trent, I can set this Immobilizer to full stun and knock you out for about an hour.”
“Pish-Posh, Mister Khan. You're just a big cuddly puppy dog!”
“Alright, that’s it!”Genghis said, while fumbling for the Immobilizer.
Jennifer laughed as she got up to get her coat.
Chapter Sixty-Four
Bollar just stood absentmindedly in the middle of his apartment, like he had forgotten to do something. It was right there in the back of his brain, but what? He checked the drawers of the dresser for the third time. Empty. He opened the small closet. Nothing but a couple of wire hangers. Screw it! If he forgot something to hell with it. He had spent over two hours looking around for something he couldn’t remember. He took a couple more pills in an attempt to curb the pain in his head. He put the A56 in his coat and grabbed the case and left the apartment.
It was cold and windy as Bollar drove through Old Town toward the interstate. The sidewalks were crowded with last minute holiday shoppers going in and out of antique and consignment shops. As he passed a large electronic store, he looked through the front window and saw that it was very busy. Look at all those people with cash in their pockets, the registers overflowing with currency, he thought to himself as he slowed and stopped the car at the curb.
Jennifer, Jeff, and Genghis were coming out of the theater with other people after the movie, the large screen and surround-sound experience of the event still very vivid in their minds. “That was outstanding, Twinkie!” Jeff said, wiping off the little popcorn bits stuck to his shirt. When they had arrived at the theater and approached the ticket box, Jennifer explained to the attendant that Genghis was Jeff’s service dog. He didn’t bother to ask what kind of service dog, he didn’t give a damn, he just wanted his shift to end; he had a party to get to. They bought tickets and snacks and sat in the large seats of the dark theater. Genghis had a seat to himself and shared Jennifer’s popcorn.
Bollar entered the electronic store, into a crowd of hustling and bustling patrons, the atmosphere electric with activity. This would be easy and would take no more than three minutes. He looked at the cashiers and determined that the tall lanky girl at the middle register would be the one he would approach. He walked up to her and pulled out the A56 when he felt a painful blow to his back. It came from the Louisville Slugger baseball bat that the manager always kept by his desk.
Ever since the shootout in Old Town, shop owners and customers alike had been very vigilant, knowing that the Old Town Gunman was still at large. The manager of the electronic store had been gleefully watching the customers with their laden carts. He thought to himself that this was going to be the best day of the year for his store. If only the crowds were like this during the rest of the year. It was then that he noticed a man enter his store and his heart stopped.
Eyewitnesses from the flower shop on that awful day said that the gunman was badly injured and lost his ear in the shootout with the police. And this man who just walked into his store was horribly scared.
The manager wasn’t going to take any chances. He hit the silent alarm and grabbed his baseball bat and quickly walked around to the back of the man who just stepped up to the register. He wasn’t going to do anything unless he was absolutely sure that this was the gunman. He wasn’t about to bludgeon a customer who just wanted to buy batteries
