Ale House of Bones

Chapter 1: A Stowaway

1928 was the year and the prohibition was in full swing. Speakeasies were all over the place. Booze was a booming business. Naturally, Raymond Click took full advantage of this. Raymond owns Club Elysium. The club was full of alcohol and the sweet sound of the trumpet. Frank Best was living up to his last name by being the best bartender in the state. To prevent trouble Clint Nickels stayed outside the club and let select people in. As for the swinging trumpet sound the customers can thank a new member of the crew, Opal Woods.

Monday morning. Time to start the week. Frank jumped out of bed and saw that the sun had come out. He got up late. Dawn was his prime time, two in the morning, to be more specific. Pulling on his suspenders and putting on a hat Frank ran down the hallway waking up the rest of the crew.

"Hey! What's the big idea?" Opal shouted from her room.

"The sun is up, we are late!" Frank yelled back.

"Shit!" Clint exclaimed as he fell to the floor.

"What do you mean we?" Raymond was up, dressed and making his bed.

"Sorry boss, overslept."

"It's ok Frank, you need the sleep."

"What do we need to do today?"

"Well I need a ride to talk business with the Morris'."

Clint and Opal joined Frank outside of Raymond's room.

"Clint you take the B-70 and pick up some more alcohol, don't worry about paying, the Adler family still owes us six cases." Raymond turned to Opal, "Opal honey, please start cleaning around the house and we will help when we get back."

"Yes sir!" Frank and Opal answered in sync.

"You got it boss," Clint mumbled as he walked away.

"Alright let's go Frank."

Frank and Raymond walked out to the yellow model T. Not far behind them Clint went to the grey B-70. The engines roared to life. Opal watched the yellow and grey cars out the window until they were small dots. Of course they got to do the fun stuff while she had to play a maid. Oh well at least she wasn't the one getting shot at, that is one positive of the boring job.

The yellow model T cruised down a curving country road. Frank reluctantly slowed down so they could find the Morris' driveway. Taking a sharp left, Frank smiled sheepishly at Raymond.

"I always forget where it is, sorry boss."

"Don't let it happen again."

"Got it," Frank whispered to himself.

Raymond brushed Frank's shoulder as he walked to the door. Knock, knock, knock. Mrs. Morris came to the door. Her eyes got large and her skin went pale.

"Honey!" Her voice was thin and almost shaking.

"Yes?" Mr. Morris asked innocently.

"Mr. Click is here."

That ended the conversation as Mr. Morris almost tripped down the stairs. Once at the bottom of the stairs with his wife Morris tried to calm himself.

"Come in Mr. Click, Mr. Best," Morris nodded to them as they walked in.

"Thank you," Frank murmured.

"Would you two like anything to drink?" Mrs. Morris asked.

"Water sounds lovely, thank you," Raymond responded.

"No thank you," Frank answered.

Raymond and Mr. Morris sat down. With a coffee table in between them. They started to talk but Frank tried to ignore them. This was Raymond's forte not his. Mrs. Morris then came back with the water. She silently sat it on the coffee table. Then she went back to the kitchen. Music caught Frank's attention. Who else lived here? Last time he talked to Mrs. Morris, her daughter was living with some friends. Maybe she came back to visit? Then he heard her voice, oh yeah that was definitely Mabel. He had only heard her sing once a few months ago when they first started business with the family. It was a sound he never forgot. Her singing was the best thing he ever heard, well that, and Opal's trumpet.