Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“He wishes I’d be his partner,” Michaels interjected swiftly. He reached out his hand. “I’m Detective Austin Michaels with the Atlanta PD Narcotics Task Force. Judge was contracted by my boss.”
“He didn’t ask all that,” Judge grumbled, shooting back his shot and slamming it down hard on the worn wooden bar.
“I know, but I thought I’d volunteer it anyway,” Michaels retorted, and slung his own drink back, slamming his glass down just as hard, if not harder.
“Jesus. You are a pain in the ass.”
“I’m Judge Josephson, Sr.; you may have to excuse JJ sometimes. His manners have left him, seeing that he’s alone all the time.” A look was exchanged between Judge and Judge, Sr. that Michaels was sure had to be an inside thing.
“I’m actually growing quite fond of it, Sir.” Michaels chuckled. “It’s nice to meet you though.”
“Likewise.” The older man laughed with him, pouring two more shots, splashing some of the liquid on the bar. He wiped it up, shaking his head and pulled out a glass for himself, filling it along with theirs.
“You sure you should be doing that, Pop? Where’s Linda?”
“Oh, hush. You always were a tattletale.” Judge, Sr. winked at Michaels. “I’m gonna go anyway, I might as well go happy, right?”
“That’s stupid,” Judge growled at his father.
“Son. You gonna have to make your peace with this, and soon.”
Michaels suddenly felt like he was witnessing something very personal and private. They’d brought in their bags so there must be some rooms on the upper levels but he didn’t want to cut into the sad but intense stare-off Judge and his father were having. He watched Judge, Sr. tilt his glass back with a shaky left hand and slowly savor the smoothness of the aged whisky.
“I leave to the store for fifteen minutes and look ahere.” A woman giggled from the front door.
Judge stopped staring his father down long enough to plaster on a smile, turning towards the lady. She dropped her two grocery bags and lunged herself into Judge’s arms, letting him spin her around like a schoolgirl. When he finally set her petite frame down on the floor, she slapped at him playfully. “JJ, you know I’m too old to be swinging around like that.”
“You’re as old as you look. And you look beautiful Linda. This old geezer treating you right?” Judge picked up the bags and set them on the end of the bar while Linda ducked underneath it, walking up to Judge, Sr. and giving him a mock scowl.
“He treats me just fine, JJ. When he’s not sneaking.” Linda picked up Judge, Sr.’s empty glass and put it in the sink. “No more treats for you, if you want to try that new medication this week.”
Medication. Michaels wondered just how sick Judge’s father was. From the looks on Linda and young Judge’s faces, it was serious. The detective in him immediately wanted to probe and ask questions, but theirs was none of his business.
“I can’t drink, I can’t smoke. You barely let me tend bar anymore, woman. I’m not in the mood for you and JJ to scold me today. I only get to see my boy once every couple months. Is it too much to have one celebratory drink with him?” Judge, Sr. grumbled, walking away from both of them, heading up a set of stairs Michaels hadn’t noticed until then. He took them slowly, one at time.
“Pop,” Judge called out, but Judge, Sr. didn’t turn around.
“Oh, I’m sorry JJ. I shouldn’t have done that. He’s right.” Linda sighed sadly while unpacking the lemons and oranges from the bags. She laid them on a fresh cutting board and started cutting them up. “I have been hard on him lately. He’s getting restless, not being able to work shifts anymore. He wanted to hunt a couple weeks ago with the guys but the doctor forbade it. It’s getting real, JJ. His last test showed another clot in his—”
Judge went around the bar and pulled the sad woman to his chest when she couldn’t finish her sentence. It was heartbreaking and he’d only met Judge, Sr. a few minutes ago.
“I’m gonna go up and talk to him. He’ll be fine, Linda. I promise.” Judge kissed the top of her head and she sighed a breath of relief.
“You couldn’t have come at better time, sweetheart.” Linda’s eyes were watery but she held her tears in check. “Here. Take this.” She picked up two more glasses, winked, and handed him the whisky.
It appeared Judge got the message. He kissed the short woman on her cheek and left Michaels sitting there alone with her. He turned and looked at the few patrons, wondering how the place stayed in business. The bar’s mortgage was probably paid off, if Judge’s father’s age was any indication of how long the business had been going, but there was still some overhead.