A3Writer: F³ Getting Answers
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Friday, May 10, 2019

F³ Getting Answers

“Who the hell are you?” Schumacher asked.
“Call me Slim.”
“What kind of ____ name is Slim?” another apprenticed cursed.
“It your chances of getting out of this without more violence,” I said.

Another pulled his pipe out of the molten glass and began stalking towards me, the pointed at me like a glowing spear.
“Hot glass,” I nodded, appreciatively. “I prefer hot lead.” I pulled my .45 out and shot outside one of his feet.
“Jesus!” Schumacher said.
“No. I hear that guy forgives. That ain’t my area. I get answers. Put the sticker back where it belongs, sonny, and we’ll all talk like men.”
Schumacher nodded to his apprentices, who slowly got back to work, except the guy I had laid out, who was still snoring on the floor. Schumacher handed off his glass to an apprentice, then motioned me into an office.
“What are you—” he began.
“Ah!” I held up a finger “I question, you answer, I leave.”
He grimaced but said nothing.
“This is your work,” I said, showing him the pictures of the shoe. “Who’d you make ‘em for?”
“That? Custom job. Girl named Cindy.”
“Got an address?”
He shook his head.
“Describe her.”
“Blonde hair, blue eyes, a real looker, you know what I mean?” He used his hands to clue me into her shape, emphasizing the top of the hourglass.
“Anything else?”
He shrugged, but he didn’t look at me.
“What was she wearing?”
Another shrug. “Just a dress. Blue, I think. Nothing fancy.”
“Uh huh. So how’d she get the scratch for your custom job?”
Schumacher’s eyes darted to the sides, looking for someone. I thought he might cross himself to ward off the devil himself, but that never worked on me.”
“I can’t,” he said nervously.
“Sure you can. Because you wanted people to know you made those fancy shoes. I’m guessing its only a matter of time until whoever hired you to make them realizes you signed your name.”
“No, there’s no reason—”
“Your gal Cindy is missing. That’s why I’m here. Wouldn’t take much to clue the cops in on these pictures, too. When they come around, people take notice. They stir up more trouble than me, too.”
He sighed. “Okay. It was Ma.”
“Well, ____,” I cursed.