Page 19 of Rough

“Do I need to prepare myself?” I asked, making a dark joke of the situation.

Carol blinked grimly. I took that as a yes, and inhaled sharply, exhaling even slower.

“The city has been informed through ‘anonymous tips’ of an issue that must be investigated before the license to sell liquor of any kind can be reinstated to the club Tiger’s Eye, under section 402 of the code 1134.”

“What does this even mean?” I was devastated. My nightly sales were going to take a huge blow. “Is this some sort of joke?”

“It came certified,” Carol stated regretfully. “It has the city official crest on it too.”

I groaned. I knew it wasn’t her fault, but I wanted to punch my fist through a wall.

“Who would do this?” I asked, more rhetorically to myself than to Carol outright.

“I can think of someone,” Carol said with a scowl.

“Who?” I gasped as the name came to me. “Nelson…” I trailed off in a snarl. “That little prick, Nelson Sanderson.”

Carol knew all about Nelson’s antics and his attempts to tear down my building and create a strip mall in its place.

“Well, this really brings my day down to shit level,” I declared. “And I woke up in such a good mood too.”

“I’m really sorry.” Carol’s features were full of empathy.

“I need to make some calls this morning,” I told her with a resigned sigh. I walked into my office. “Hold all my calls, unless they are from the city or Nelson,” I shouted to Carol as an afterthought before slamming my office door shut.

I plopped down in my desk chair and rubbed my aching temples. A migraine was starting to take root in my head.

“What kind of anonymous tips could the city have gotten?” I asked myself, feeling completely baffled.

I read the letter twice more. I didn’t see anything in the letter that pointed to why they got the tip or who would have sent it, more importantly, there was no reason provided on what they had to investigate.

I wanted answers, and I wouldn’t stop until I got them. I picked up the phone and dialed the number listed on the letter for inquiries. It was a department within the city that handled zoning ordinances and business licenses. I wasn’t going to get my hopes up that I wouldn’t have to yell at somebody, but I remained as stoically optimistic as I could that I wouldn’t lose my temper unless it was absolutely warranted.

A female voice droned on the other end, answering after a couple of rings. “City of Chicago,” she declared flatly.

“My name is Garret Olsen. I own the Tiger’s Eye nightclub in town. I just received a letter—”

“Sir, can you hold please?” the clerk asked as if there was nothing in the entire world she cared about less than the explanation I was gearing up to give her.

“What? I… uh—” I was taken aback by her immediate interjection. “Sure. I can hold.”

My pride was already wounded, but I took another deep breath and closed my eyes, centered myself, and tried to keep my cool.

Sleepy elevator music began to float through the receiver. I sighed, losing my patience and tried my best to keep myself busy. I turned on my computer and logged in, using the time to pull up all the programs I would need for the day before the clerk came back on the line.

“How may I help you?” she asked as if she couldn’t remember who she had put on hold.

“I’m Garret Olsen,” I began a second time. “I own the Tiger’s Eye nightclub in town. I just received a notice that states my liquor license is being suspended due to an anonymous tip.”

“What’s your question?” the woman asked.

I was exasperated by her blatant disdain. I mentally debated whether I was going to have to walk down to City Hall and talk to someone in person to get some much-deserved answers.

“My question is who sent in the tip?”

I heard silence on the other end, then, after a brief pause, the woman spoke again. “I don’t have that information for you, sir.”

“Well, can you please find out?” My voice was becoming frantic and high pitched.

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