Dream Catcher

Chapter 25

Despite its name, The Pony House was a far cry from cowboys and country music. When live bands weren't playing, the DJ usually served up a rotation of contemporary dance records. Neon lights advertising the different varieties of liquor lit up the establishment whose main floor was lined with booths for patrons to relax and drink or watch the inebriated dancers. Tonight was a live performance night and the Booty Pirates had a new set they wanted to try out.

"Should we add in some keyboards?" Belcher asked. "I feel like the first song is missing something."

"Nah," Freddy shook his head as he put down his electric guitar. "It sounds good as is. Keyboards would make it sound eighties. We want to be fresh."

"Good thinking," Belcher was sitting at the edge of the small stage they performed on each week. "Man, I can't wait 'till we make it big. We'll have money, women, and nonstop tours."

Freddy laughed, "What's this about women? I thought you just wanted one woman."

"Dani?" Belcher grinned. "I know you joke about Dolores but Dani is pretty hot. The way she always avoids people touching her. She's so shy. It's kind of cute. Don't you think?"

"Cute? Yeah, I guess she is," Freddy said.

"Well don't get any ideas. I already called dibs on her."

Freddy just shook his head and chuckled, "I'm not going to compete with you for a woman. After we're famous, we'll get our fill of them."

"You never know...she could be the one that you know...breaks our band up."

"I doubt that."

"Why do you say that? You really have no interest in her?" Belcher asked.

"If you think Dani Deleon is special to you, then she is. Personally, I think we should be focusing more on our music."

"We're always focused on music. Don't you ever get tired of living this rock and roll life? The groupies are nice but I need stability. We're getting old, Freddy."

"You're not exactly old at twenty-four and I hate to burst your bubble but we don't have groupies."

"Yes, we do," Belcher insisted. "Remember that ginger that wanted me the other night?"

"The redhead? I thought you said she was engaged," Freddy laughed.

"So?"

"Whatever you say. But first, let's finish setting up for tonight."

They both turned when the side door to the club opened. It was still too early for patrons.

"Hey man this is a closed area," Freddy called out.

"I'm Detective Roberto Montoya. I'm looking for a Travis Monroe," Roberto flashed his badge.

Belcher's eyes widened, "That's me. Is something wrong? How did you know my real name?"

"Did you get caught selling pot again?" Freddy asked. "They can't search you without a warrant!"

"Shut up," Belcher whispered.

Roberto pointed at Belcher, "That's right. I've seen you at the diner before. You have that weird nickname. Listen, Barf Bag-"

"It's Belcher not Barf Bag!"

"Like that's any better," Roberto muttered. He cleared his throat and smiled, "I'm not here to search you. I just had some questions."

"I don't trust him, Freddy," Belcher said softly. "No pigs can be trusted."

Roberto's eyes narrowed, "You insult me one more time and I'll show you how dangerous we pigs can get."

Freddy crossed his arms and lifted his chin, waiting for Belcher to respond.