Free Serpentine by Barry Napier Page B

snooping.” He then looked around the bar, leaned in closer to Wayne, and whispered. “Especially not if you think you saw government plates on those vans.”
    Wayne nodded and sipped from his beer. He took the last bit from the glass and set it on the bar. He considered ordering another one, but his mind was already elsewhere.
    “You know,” he told Al, “those vans aren’t there anymore.”
    “And how might you know that?” Al asked, irritated.
    “I drove by yesterday. The vans are gone. So is George Galworth’s truck.”
    “So?”
    Wayne smirked and looked across the bar, through the milling locals and vacationers, towards the door. “So, I think it’s getting stuffy in here. I think it’s time to head out.”
    “For what?” Al asked suspiciously.
    Now it was Wayne that leaned in to whisper. “Let’s go have a look. If they aren’t renting that house out, I can guarantee you that the government was up to a lot more than studying the water levels or the spawning habits of fish or whatever the hell those environmentalists do.”
    Al rolled his eyes, but Wayne knew that he had won his friend over. What else did Al have to do on a Friday night? Also, there was some mystery to this entire scenario one way or the other. If Wayne and Al hadn’t seen those black vans rocketing down the dirt road on that first day of summer, it might have been easier to ignore it. But there was something going on in regards to that vacant house. If it turned out to be something small and unimportant, then at least their curiosity would be satisfied.
    And if it was something bigger, the worst that could happen would be that they’d get a slap on the wrist from local law enforcement.
    Wayne could see that these and similar thoughts were going through Al’s mind. Al slowly finished the rest of his beer and the motioned for the bartender. He paid for both men’s tabs and then turned on his barstool to face Wayne.
    “Let’s go then,” he said in a playfully defeated voice. “But I need to be home by ten or so or Kathy will start to worry.”
    “You’ll be fine,” Wayne said. “You’ll be with me.”
    “That’s exactly what she’s worried about.”
    They left the bar, Wayne clapping Jimmy Fitz on the shoulder as they made their way out.
     
    ***
     
    As Al drove his truck down Kerr Lane, Wayne sat in the passenger seat and watched the night-shrouded trails pass by in the flicker of headlights. The roads out here along the rental properties seemed totally abandoned and emptied on most nights, the houses illuminated only by a few lights inside or an occasional porch light. They passed a single yard on their way in where people were gathered around a car that had a Randy Travis song coming out of its speakers. The folks were speaking loudly and no doubt drinking beer.
    As they passed by Al’s house, Wayne saw his friend cast a wary look at the driveway.
    “Kathy really doesn’t care much for me, does she?” Wayne asked.
    “It’s not like that.”
    “I think it sort if is like that. And that’s fine. I get it.”
    Al seemed to think about something before finally saying, “She worries about you, that’s all. And because she worries about you, she worries about me when I hang out with you.”
    “Does she want you to find some new friends?” Wayne asked with a chuckle.
    “No. She thinks I’m good for you.”
    Wayne cracked up with laughter at this, slapping at the dashboard. He knew that Al was good for him. Without a good friend to hang out with and rely on after his wife had left, Wayne knew that he would have drunk himself into a stupor. He would have become one of those sad old men that walked around the streets with five dollars burning in their pocket to buy a six pack of cheap beer or a bottle of that disgusting malt liquor from the mini mart. There was a very good chance that’s what his life would have become after retirement and the divorce if Al had not been there.
    They’d done nothing more than