The bar was very dark for it being just six in the evening. Trish stood in the doorway letting her eyes adjust. The late August sun was especially brilliant outside, even for Phoenix. When the long bar stretching down the right side of the narrow space came into focus, she was looking at a six foot tall woman in a black wife-beater tee shirt who was leaning on the bar top, and looking back at her. The woman was lean and athletic with a deep tan and well defined shoulders and biceps. Her short curly black hair had a sort of intentional randomness about it. The woman smiled at her. "Anywhere you like." She offered.
Trish saw there were only a few other customers in the place. A twosome at a table near the front window to her left and three women further down chatting at another table. Trish was tall in her own right and just as fit. She was wearing snug jeans and a red pull over top with a dark blue herringbone blazer.
Trish went midway down the bar, looked around and slid onto a hard wooden stool. As she pulled a folded twenty from her front jeans pocket, the woman bartender made her way down and stopped in front of Trish.
"Help you?" She asked.
Trish studied her. "I'm looking for a Marcy Bender." Trish said.
"Would that be draft or bottle?" The woman asked.
Trish slid the twenty out in front of her and let it set. "Schofield, straight." She added.
The woman turned, checked the back bar and then retrieved a bottle from a seldom used back shelf. She returned, placed a shot glass in front of Trish and filled it from a bottle of Old Schofield scotch.
She looked at Trish, at the twenty, and then the scotch. "This stuff any good?"
Trish shifted a little, letting her jacket-front lay open. She was sure the woman could see the butt end of the pearl handled nine millimeter in her shoulder holster. "Join me." Trish offered.
"I'm not allowed to drink on duty." She said.
"Quit." Trish suggested. "You can hire back on in a few minutes."
The girl poured a second shot and placed the bottle back on the shelf. When she returned, she picked up the shot and held it out. Trish took hers and their glasses clinked. They downed the drinks in unison.
"Damn" The woman said, shaking her head. "I've always hated scotch but this crap is really bad."
"I know." Trish agreed.
"Then why the fuck drink it?" The woman asked.
"Keeps me from getting too drunk." Trish offered.
She looked at the woman. "Marcy?" She asked again.
"Not here." The woman said.
"Ever?" Tracy continued.
"The woman ran her finger over the twenty but let it lay. "Mr. Jackson here have many friends?" she asked.
"Pretty sure he's a loner." Trish offered.
"Well that's a shame." The woman replied.
Trish reached into her jeans and removed two more twenties. She watched the barmaid as she unfolded them and placed them on the bar on top of the first one.
The woman reached for the sixty bucks but Tracy's hand landed on top of the woman's. The two were silent for a long ten seconds. "
"I've seen her around." The woman said.
"I'm going to need a little more." She said. "If his friends are going to stay."
"She in trouble?" The woman asked.
"Not from me." Trish replied.
The woman stood quiet then finally said. "Come back after ten." She added. "She's usually here late."
Trish pushed the money to the edge of the bar and stood up. "If I were you, I wouldn't spend that until eleven." Trish offered.
"I don't get off till midnight." The woman said.
"Good to know." Trish left.
At ten-fifteen, Trish opened the door to the bar for a second time. A real transformation had occurred. The place was crowded to the point surely exceeding the local occupancy code. Two deep along the bar and now there were four women working behind it. All dressed the same, tight black jeans, black sleeveless tee shirts and all well deserving of their outfits. All the tables were filled. Not surprisingly, all the customers were women. This was a lesbian bar named 'The Cherry Stem'.
Trish eyed the woman she had talked to earlier, working the far end of the bar. She made her way between hot middle-aged executives, starlet want-a-bees, and local girls just looking for a good time. All of them hugging someone else. Some kissing. Hands everywhere, entwined in long hair or waistbands.
She had just reached the opposite end of the bar when the woman spotted her. Trish leaned against the bar and watched two girls at a nearby table, one was seated, the other straddling her, sitting in her lap. They looked like they could be twins, each with long flowing black hair, long legs and, at the moment, a fondness for having the other's tongue in their mouth.
When Trish looked back to the bar, the woman was placing a shot of Schofield scotch in front of her. The woman leaned forward. She whispered. "I hear scotch makes one want to pee."
Trish downed the drink and turned to see that the girl seated in the chair was now alone. She sat there, looking at Trish. "Hi." She finally said and then proceeded to lick, what Trish assumed was the other girl's saliva, off of her upper lip. The girlfriend reappeared from the bar with two mixed drinks that were a bright orange and overflowing with little umbrellas and an assortment of citrus slices. She quickly reclaimed her spot in the other's lap while giving Trish a scowling glance. Very agile in deed, Trish thought, to swing her leg across her friend and settle down with a drink in each hand.
The girl's tongues were once again dueling each other as Trish passed them.
She turned down a long hall and spotted two bathroom doors. Both marked 'Hers'. She pushed the first door open. Two girls were at the mirror holding lips sticks and jousting each other for viewing space. The stall door was ajar. Two more girls were in there, one pinning the other against the partition. Her right hand was under the trapped girl's skirt and from the sounds the victim was making, nimble fingers were having the desired effect. "Marcy!" Trish called in a firm voice. The two in the stall didn't flinch. The two at the mirror gave her a pair of dead stares for just a second and then went back to repairing smeared lips.
Trish went to the second bathroom and started to open the door when a very pretty girl wobbled out. Her hair was mussed and her makeup smeared, cheeks flushed. She twisted past Trish and headed toward the bar using both walls for balance. Her short dress showing a pair of amazing legs.
Trish entered the bathroom. It was empty except for a pair of combat boots showing below the toilet partition. She looked in. There was Marcy Bender if the picture in her pocket was at all accurate. The girl was pulling up her jeans, affixing her belt. When she looked at Trish she smiled. "I got time if you hurry." She said.
