Page 5 of Silver Linings

The man tapped a finger against his glass. A gold band gleamed on his ring finger, signaling that he was married…or at least, wanted people to think he was.

Quite a departure from the usual stereotype of guys taking off their wedding rings before they went into a bar so they wouldn’t have any physical evidence of their unavailability.

The stranger didn’t look as if he was there to pick up women, though.

For just a moment, Ben wondered if the man was trying to hit on him, and then he dismissed the notion right away. He had no idea what was going on with the guy, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t that.

Maybe he should try a different tack.

“What’s ‘not too far away’?”

At once, the stranger shook his head. “Nothing. I guess I was just kind of thrown off by all the whackjobs here.”

Ben didn’t much care for that epithet being used to describe a group of people who shared his own somewhat fringe interests, but he supposed he could see why the man had made the remark. A lot of people liked to let their freak flag fly when they attended these sorts of events, and over half the attendees currently hanging out in the bar wore T-shirts featuring Bigfoot or Nessie or even the Mothman. Others had buttons with their cryptozoological favorites pinned to their backpacks or lapels.

All in all, it didn’t look like a gathering of Taylor Swift fans, or whatever.

He shrugged, glad that he’d decided against a chupacabra T-shirt and instead only wore a plain black tee under a black jacket. Anyone looking at him most likely wouldn’t be able to determine that he was part of the convention, which was probably a good thing right now.

“They’re just having fun,” he said, doing his best to sound neutral.

The stranger picked up his Scotch and drained the last of it, then set the empty glass down on the bar. “Sounds like their version of fun is a lot different from mine.”

Well, that was most likely true. Ben had no idea what had driven the man to drink away his sorrows in a hotel bar just blocks away from the Moscone Convention Center, but it seemed pretty obvious that he’d chosen the wrong venue today.

The stranger fished around in his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet, then put a twenty down on the bar. Something about the motion appeared almost reluctant, although Ben couldn’t be sure whether that was because the guy didn’t know if he wanted to order another drink, or maybe was just concerned about the cost of a second round of Scotch.

If he’d wanted to save on his alcohol consumption, he probably shouldn’t have been drinking in a hotel bar. Those places were notorious for jacking up their prices.

“Have a better one,” the stranger said as he got down from his barstool.

“You, too,” Ben responded. He had no idea what might have been going on in the man’s life, but it seemed clear that something was weighing on him.

Well, everyone had their own problems to deal with. At the moment, he couldn’t spare much thought for anyone else’s but his own.

As Ben turned back to pick up his Scotch and soda, he noticed that a piece of paper now lay on the floor at the foot of the stool the stranger had occupied up until a moment earlier. Most likely, it had fallen out of his pocket when he reached in to pull out his wallet.

Frowning, Ben leaned down to pick it up, thinking maybe he could go after the guy and let him know he’d dropped something. A quick scan of the lobby, just visible through the entrance to the bar, told him the man didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight.

But maybe the piece of paper would have some information on it, possibly a phone number or something where he could reach the stranger if it turned out whatever he’d dropped was important. After all, he’d hate for him to have a problem reclaiming his dry cleaning or something.

On closer inspection, though, the piece of paper wasn’t a ticket from a dry cleaner’s or a gas station receipt or anything like that.

No, it was a picture of a pretty woman in her early twenties as she smiled at the camera, her long brown hair topped by a black graduation cap that looked as if it was going to tip over at any moment. The image wasn’t the greatest quality, since it had been printed on regular paper, and was fairly creased, as though it had been traveling in the man’s wallet for quite some time.

Written on the back were a few words in what looked like a woman’s hand, graceful and looping.

Sidney, Humboldt State graduation, 2021.

Below that was another line.

We wish you could have come to Silver Hollow for the party.

That was all — no dates or any other names, but Ben thought it was probably enough. A native of Southern California, he’d never heard of a place called Silver Hollow, but he supposed it wouldn’t be too difficult to look up.

More than four years ago, so the girl in the photo was probably in her mid-twenties now. Considering how much people moved around after graduating from college, Ben wasn’t sure if she would even still be living in Silver Hollow.

Someone there would probably know who she was, though.

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