Unhinged by E. J. Findorff Page B

Bienvenue in on this. He’s gonna love it.”
    We both rose from our chairs and silently walked to the other side of the room where Bienvenue was sitting. Landeaux was probably off getting drunk somewhere as usual. We moved to either side of him, putting him in an uncomfortable sandwich.
    â€œOh, shit. You’re not going to beat me up?” He looked at each of us with fearful but comical concern.
    â€œYou’ve been recruited to help us on the double homicide.” Ron placed his hand on Jake’s thick trapezoid.
    â€œWe need you to go undercover,” I added.
    â€œYou have to play a fag.” Ron rubbed his shoulder gently. “You gotta get in with a bouncer at Breaux’s.” He smiled and blew kisses at him.
    â€œYou have hot pants, don’t you?” I asked.
    â€œWait, wait, wait. Just how far do I have to go with this?”
    â€œTo the bitter end,” Ron said.

I t was close to midnight when me, Ron, Agent Wayne, and a surveillance technician named Agent Brian Tucker sat in a Budget Truck Rental right around the corner from Breaux’s. Agent Tucker was a pale redhead with broad shoulders and a farm bred Midwestern accent. He had quite a setup inside the small space. There was a monitor, radio, receivers, and speakers plus some other equipment that I had no idea about. The smell of electrical gadgets energized me while I watched Tucker adjust the surveillance controls.
    â€œThis is the bottom-of-the-barrel surveillance. Old school,” Wayne said to me. “It’s the best I could do on short notice.”
    â€œNo, this stuff is great.” I tried to hide my nervousness.
    Tucker huffed. “This is nothing. Do you know there’s a little robot fly that’s built with a tiny spy camera in it? It could buzz by you, and you’d never know it.”
    â€œOf course we don’t have that,” Wayne said.
    â€œNo, I’ve never even seen one. It’s not for everyday use,” Tucker added.
    â€œIncredible,” was all I could say.
    Bienvenue had just meandered past the truck a moment before, wearing a white tank top and tight blue shorts. For added effect, he had spiked his hair and put on a hint of eyeliner. To finish off the ensemble, he was set up with a small video device in his belt.
    The four of us sat close in the truck. Looking up, I noticed a huge vent on the roof. The heat the equipment let off was intense enough to feel it brush past my face.
    We watched the tourists on the monitor as Bienvenue made his way up the street. The drunken clamor of those around him was crystal clear. As soon as he arrived at Ponyland (our code word), Toliver was there to let him in.
    â€œNeed my ID? Because I forgot it,” Bienvenue said with a hint of flare.
    â€œYou look old enough to me.” We could see Toliver smile as he eyed Bienvenue up and down.
    â€œSee you later.” Bienvenue raised his hand to Toliver’s shoulder and touched it softly. He then eased his way over to the bar, and the monitor went dark, with the camera pointed at nothing but cheap wood. All we could do was listen.
    â€œWhat do you want, stud?” we heard faintly over the music.
    â€œAmaretto Sour. So, tell me. What’s the story with the doorman?”
    â€œOh, Kenny. He’s single.” I recognized the bartender’s voice. It was pretty Roger, and he sounded smooth as cream.
    â€œWhat’s his type?”
    â€œYou, if you’re not looking for a relationship.”
    â€œHey, I’m from Chicago. What if I just want to go home with him?” Bienvenue had affected a Chicago accent, sounding as if he did this sort of thing all the time.
    â€œThat depends on what you’re into.”
    â€œI’m into a lot of things and can be persuaded to do other things. You say he’s available?”
    â€œDepends on how fat your wallet is. Oh, you wouldn’t know about Kenny, would you? Kenny’s into specialties. I