Derick stepped into his best pair of black slacks and a white polo shirt. Slicking his hair back by licking his hands then running them through his hair wasn't enough; he went into the bathroom and located the hair gel.
Derick popped the top and peeled the crusted gel off the opening. He hadn't used it in years. When his blond hair appeared to be of a light brown color, Derick nodded to himself and went to retrieve his black loafers. As he was slipping his feet into them, the doorbell rang. Derick opened the door to find Maria, out of breath.
"What did you do, run all the way up here?"
"Yeah. I found something on Craig Devon."
"Really? Other than his office address?" Derick laughed.
Maria did not return the mirth. "No. Craig Devon died last May. Whoever this crackpot is, he's using a dead man's name."
"Maria, there could be thousands of Craig Devons in this world. Geeze." He walked to the refrigerator and took out a can of soda. Maria followed him.
"I'm telling you, this guy is bad news."
"So, what? You don't want me to go tonight? This could be it. My way out of the damned factory!"
Maria shook her head, then kissed him goodbye. "You'll see."
* * *
Derick arrived at the restaurant a few minutes late, due to Maria's nagging. He threw his car keys to the valet and rushed inside Tippy's.
Derick spotted Craig Devon as soon as he walked through the door. The hostess came up to him. "How many?"
"I've already found my party." Derick pointed to Craig Devon.
The hostess, following his finger, nodded, smiled and let him pass.
Tippy's, a fine dining restaurant, was dark, lighted by dim spotlights and candles on each table. The leather booths and glass tables made Derick slightly nervous. Derick didn't know how he knew the man he pointed to was Craig Devon, and he hoped he was right. As he got closer to the table, Devon didn't even look his way. Maybe I should have asked the hostess. He thought.
"Hello." Derick said as he approached the table.
"Oh, Derick, nice to see you." Devon signaled for Derick to take the seat across from him.
Derick could see the man clearly now, even in the dim light. His face appeared to glow. Cherry-colored hair framed Devon's Romanesque features. Derick's manuscript was in the center of the table; even the title page had red ink splattered all over it. Derick waited for Devon to speak.