Free Fiction: Girl Gone Wild part 5 (A Lenny Parker serial) by Jochem Vandersteen

I'm pleased to offer the fans of my blog the fifth part of a brand-new crime story that features roadie / PI Lenny Parker, a fat tattooed slob with a heart of gold. You can check out the fourth part here.

Girl Gone Wild part 5 (A Lenny Parker serial)

by Jochem Vandersteen

I visited the convenience store where Melinda worked. I browsed the racks, settling for a sixpack of Corona and walked over to the cash-register. Melinda was behind it, saying hello. That’s right, I thought up a plan. Wasn’t sure it was a good one, but I was going to give it a try.

“Hi,” I told her.

She told me how much the sixpack cost me. I took out my wallet and asked her why she didn’t card me.

She laughed. “I’m pretty sure you’re of legal age.”

“I’m hurt,” I said.

She laughed again. “Sorry.”

“Say, have you been working here for a long time?”

“Huh? Why?”

“I was wondering if maybe I should apply for a job here. I’m looking for work, you see.”

“Oh. Right.”

“How do you like it here?”

“Fine, fine. Have been working here for a year or something. Pay is okay, work is nice.”

“What about the boss? I bet he’s a really nice guy too, then?”

Her pasty white skin flushed a deep red. She shrugged. “Er… Yes. I guess. Sure.”

“You seem to really like him,” I said.

“What do you mean?” I had her worried.

“You blushed. Like a kid infatuated with her teacher or something.”

“Please, pay for the beer and leave.”

“Melinda, maybe it would be good if we had a little talk.”

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Her skin almost matched her hair.

“I’m Lenny. Your dad was a bit worried about you and hired me. I know all about you and mister Beck.”

“Please, leave,” she pleaded.

“Is this guy bothering you?” a deep voice sounded behind me.

I turned around and looked into the eyes of a muscular black man in the same uniform as Melinda.

“I’m not bothering her at all, I’m just looking for a job and was asking her some stuff about her work.”

He crossed his arms. Those were muscular arms. “Don’t seem like it to me. Get the fuck out of here.”

“Relax,” I said.

“Wasn’t I clear enough?” The black man grabbed me by my Volbeat T-shirt. I read the name tag on his uniform, it told me his name was Will.

He pushed me all the way to the door. With a final, hard shove I was out the door and on my ass. The door closed. Through the glass of the closed door he mouthed me to stay out.

I got up, brushed off my jeans. The beer was still inside the store. I debated going in to get it. Then I thought how easily Will had me outside on my fat ass and decided that might not be the best of ideas. Just as bad an idea as confronting Melinda had been. Still, her reaction was clear enough for me. There was something going on between her and Beck. Too bad she didn’t seem open to talking about it. Maybe I should just let it rest. If Melinda was okay with it, her dad didn’t want me to get involved, who was I to interfere?

Maybe I should just get together with the guys from my band, slap some bass and get drunk.

TO BE CONTINUED...