THE DINING ROOM of the Grace Hotel was bursting with guests eating a hearty breakfast after the previous night's fun at Abe's. Almost a full, three-quarters of the guests were the Japanese tourists still happily chatting and wildly gesticulating about the Bigfoot sighting.
Merlot entered the pine-clad restaurant with its quota of animal heads stuck here and there, along with local American Indian paraphernalia-arrows, spears and leather shields. She casually walked over to her designated table.
As Merlot perused the breakfast menu, a good looking young waiter arrived at her table to take her order. He was just her type on her woodometer-good fresh mahogany sapling full of sap. Merlot eyed him up and down with an amorous glint in her eye.
The tall, muscular waiter with shiny black hair appreciated the look the FBI agent gave him and smiled.
"Hello there, gorgeous, my name's Agent Merlot, Candice Merlot, but my friends call me Merlot, because I go down in a velvety, smooth way."
The waiter smiled and tried to look coy. He obviously understood the sexual metaphor by the expression on his face.
"You're something I could drink any day, Merlot."
Merlot gave a confident smile. She knew it wasn't FBI policy to chat up the locals, but in a town like Big Beaver such rules seemed trivial and nonsensical. And yet surprisingly there was no major crime, she thought.
"And what's your name, sweet thing?"
"Mario," he replied with a blush, pointing to his name label on his chest.
"Well, Mario, if you would be so kind to fetch me one egg over easy, a couple of rashers of bacon, not too crispy, four waffles, orange juice and plenty of black coffee." She noticed Mario's eyebrows raised, "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day . . . oh, and a big glass of prune juice for my partner, Agent Tightass. He sure needs it."
Mario chuckled at Merlot's reference to her bunged-up partner as he scribbled down the order in his notebook.
"Will there be anything else, Merlot?" Mario looked at the sexy FBI agent and moistened his lips with his tongue.
Yes, there was, Merlot thought, but there wasn't any time to nibble on Mario's board-au-fare. She sighed with regret at his firm butt as he walked away.
Merlot looked up to see Willis enter the room. She quickly surmised that her partner was not in the best of moods, as was the case every damned morning these days. Her thoughts of Mario dissipated at the sight of her partner.
Willis looked disgruntled at the boisterous Japanese who had started to re-enact the previous night's barroom brawl and Hiroshi's encounter with Bigfoot. He shook his head with dismay as he approached Merlot.
Mario soon returned with Merlot's orange juice, coffee and a glass of prune juice.
"Breakfast will be another few more minutes."
Merlot didn't mind the wait as she watched him saunter to another table. She picked up the glass of orange juice and sipped. Hmm, freshly squeezed! Perfect! Over the rim of her glass she watched Willis approaching their table.
Willis sat down opposite Merlot without saying a word. He glanced up as Mario arrived with notebook and pencil at the ready.
The waiter stood at the table in an impatient manner waiting to take his order.
"Coffee, black, a large bowl of oatmeal and two bran muffins," Willis ordered in his matter-of-fact tone of voice.
Mario scribbled the order down, glanced at Merlot and gave her a smile before saying, "Oh yeah, he sure needs it." With that he hurried off to the kitchens.
Willis glanced at the waiter and frowned, "What do you suppose he meant by that?"
Merlot watched her partner take a sip of his prune juice. "You really need to lighten up." She took a sip of her freshly ground coffee. Even more perfect! She looked at Willis' prune juice. "You ever tried mixing some rum with that stuff?" She chuckled. "Guaranteed to reach the parts that others cannot, real fast."
Willis didn't reply at his partner's crude remark.
"That was quite a night, wouldn't you say? And that Duane . . . he sure is one of a kind," Merlot commented.
Willis didn't reply, he just quietly sipped his prune juice and nodded his head in agreement.
Merlot eyed her partner with a mixture of mischief and curiosity. "You know, I could have sworn I heard you talking to someone last night."
Willis narrowed his eyes and looked coolly at his partner.
"Someone of the female persuasion . . . about an hour or so before Bigfoot paid a visit." Merlot studied her partner's unsmiling face wondering if there'd be a reaction.
Willis stiffened in his chair and gave his partner a withering look. He didn't speak. He sighed heavily.
Merlot continued, "What a night . . . first a barroom brawl, then the sheriff pays you a visit begging you to do her brains out . . . and last, but not least, Bigfoot shows up at our hotel. Oh, let's not forget Duane caught with his pants down." Merlot sniggered, "I'll never forget that sight as long as I live."
Willis' annoyance was beginning to boil over and yet he didn't reply. He scowled at Merlot's grinning face over the rim of his glass of prune juice.
Merlot thought about dropping the subject, but she had a devilish streak in her that forced her to push Willis until something gave. When it came to teasing her partner, Merlot knew no bounds. Up until the last couple of months, Willis didn't seem to mind the teasing, but that was then, in the good old days. Merlot knew from her partner's nasty look that she was pissing him off. It was so much fun!
"Sheriff Lou could do with a hunk of real wood," she said with a devious smirk. "Something maybe you can't offer."
Willis' eyes narrowed as he slowly put down his glass of prune juice. "Don't push it, Candice."
Merlot hesitated for a moment. She knew she was treading a thin line when Willis called her by that name.
"Take this anyway you like, Willis, but if you don't do her then I'm sure Duane will." She gave her partner a cheeky grin and showed her cell phone.
Willis didn't reply straight away. His cheeks turned a bright pink, a clear indication that he was getting riled. "If you were a man, I'd deck you."
Merlot feigned fear, putting her hands up in defense. "Please don't whip me, massah . . . I'll be a good slave, massah," she said in her " Roots" voice.
The entire room went ominously quiet. All the guests stopped what they were doing to look at the feuding FBI agents. Startled murmurings emanated from the wide-eyed audience. Hushed words were spoken in Japanese, because most of the guests were Japanese.
Willis glared at Merlot, whispering harshly, "Keep it down, Candice." He picked up his glass of prune juice and took another sip. He licked his lips savoring his drink as if nothing had just happened.
"Looks like it's gonna be another shi . . . uh, fine day," Willis commented.
Despite the verbal fracas, Merlot couldn't stop herself from saying, "It's gotta be love, Willis."
Willis didn't reply. He just quietly sipped his prune juice and looked coolly at Merlot over the rim of his glass.