Bedtime Story: Silver and Scotch – Night 11
Silver and Scotch
Copyright 2015 by Barbara Hinske
Scotch Blake shoved the small wad of bills into the pocket of his prison-issue pants and stalked off. Working as a day laborer and sleeping at a homeless shelter was getting old. He needed to tap into the bank account that the feds never uncovered. To do that, he had to re-establish his identity as Thomas Johnson. He’d need a driver’s license and the appropriate appearance. At a minimum, that would entail a sport coat and slacks; expensive shoes, wallet and belt; and a pricey watch. Looking like the wealthy Thomas Johnson, he’d go into a local branch of the bank and get a new debit card. With money from his account, he could check into a motel and accumulate the tools of his trade.
He’d have to be patient—never his strong suit. Blake headed in the direction of the tourist area along River Street. He usually found something to eat in the trashcans there.
The late afternoon was uncharacteristically warm and sunny, and the sidewalk cafes were brimming with tourists enjoying an early happy hour. As Blake stepped aside to avoid a family pushing two strollers and wrangling three obstreperous children, he noticed an expensive looking sport coat hanging on the back of the chair at an empty table along the railing. The other diners were either focused on their food or the commotion raised by the family. He quietly folded the coat over his arm and kept walking.