Clever Fox Tavern Key Novels & Stories

He got out of his truck and headed towards the pub. From the outside, The Bear Trove Tavern appeared to be a typical small-town pub with a rustic wooden sign creaking gently in the breeze. Faded lettering spelled out the tavern’s name, accompanied by a worn but endearing depiction of a bear clutching a frothy mug. Entering The Bear Trove Tavern, Dean was greeted by the warm, inviting glow of amber lights reflecting off polished wooden surfaces; the air was thick with the mingled scents of aged whiskey, freshly brewed beer, and the faint, lingering aroma of grilled food from the kitchen

The other single-story storefronts were closed up for the night, the bright white from the bar's sign the only illumination aside from the orange-ish glow of streetlamps. Her tavern was pretty large in comparison to the other buildings. The gray clapboard siding had no doubt been weathered by salt-infused sunshine and wind off the sea. It resembled a large crab shack with burgundy shutters framing the large lower and small upper window. The front door had a gold plaque indicating Locals Only, along with hours of operation and that they were closed on Sundays and Mondays. Above that was an enormous fishing hook mounted to the frame that could've taken down Moby Dick.

Before I leave I slowly peek out of the spy-hole in the bedroom door, just to make sure that porter was gone. We head down to the first bar of the evening, ‘Pleasure Hub.’ It’s a rough looking establishment—an old run down shoe-box sized tavern, nestled between convenience stores and pool halls. Although we expect to end up somewhere a little classier later, it’s the perfect place to get loaded up on cheap booze and loosen up.

When I finally heard him, my blood ran cold. “Come here foxy fox. Come here, foxy fox. I wanna play some more.” Did my green eyes really give me away as the Fox, or was it a coincidence, because he seemed to like to give nicknames to the people he harassed? I sat in that tree for what seemed like forever. Besides my heartbeat, I heard nothing and saw nothing of Ezra.

A key. ---

"Tell me you found something." "I found the address, sir," Fred said, his voice carefully neutral in that way that meant he disapproved of what he was doing but would do it anyway. "847 Independent Layout, unit 3B. The building has a pork shop on the ground floor, just like the coupon indicated. Todd's Premium Pork Palace." "And?"

They were like a wind freezing everything they touched. I went down to the cellar. The air was thick with the scent of earth and old oak. I moved past the rows of bottles my heart pounding in my chest. The 1945 reserve was tucked away in a corner protected by a wrought-iron gate. I pulled out the key from around my neck. The Third Key, a small USB device encased in silver. And inserted it into the hidden lock behind the rack.

Felix walked behind it and checked the drawers. “Keys, a wolfsbane breathalyzer…” he murmured and pulled out a set of keys. “A charging station for a tablet. Seems like rentable rooms to me.” Rentable for what? I was under the impression that the club was supposed to be just a club. He walked to the first door and opened it before gasping. His eyes flickered with light and a devious grin spread across his face. “Well, well, Matt, you shouldn’t have.”

The waiter placed the receipt in front of me and asked, “Anything else, sir?” “Do you have any idea how I might find a place called Luxe Nights?” I asked, my voice edged with desperation. She looked at me with a mix of disgust and disdain. “Five minutes drive that way, turn left outside the Old Tavern pub, and it’s on that street,” she said, turnin' on her heel and walkin' off before I could thank 'er.

The fox will grant you what you’ve been searching As long as you bring something someone else has been missing. Ah, but I digress… This one should let you rest. Just sit back, enjoy the bliss You will experience Here at the inn called Chocolate Kiss!