Jolene is the senior server here at Joe's. She and Jose were both working at the bar before Joe Bob handed it over to me and they were the reason the transition went so smoothly. Jose manages everything associated with the kitchen including ordering supplies, printing menus, arranging for inspections, getting the necessary health department certifications and permits and a host of other incidentals. Jolene manages the wait staff and helps me with the books and the miscellaneous office details associated with running the place. I could never have made a go of this without them. The place should probably be called "Joes" without the apostrophe since Jolene, Jose, and myself all answer to the name and all share in running the place, but we decided in his memory to keep the name Joe Bob had given it.

I have frequently tried to get Jolene and Jose to tell me more about Joe Bob, my mysterious benefactor, but despite his abrupt departure, they remain loyal to him and have kept his secrets. I do however, think he has passed away. During the month he spent transitioning the bar to me, I noticed he was continually getting weaker and looking less well. About three months after he left, there was a day when all of the bar regulars appeared to be in mourning, but no one would talk to me about it. Shortly after that, I overheard Jolene telling Jose she thought the bar might be haunted. She wanted Jose to do an exorcism or something. Jose explained he was no longer ordained. Yes, Jose was a priest but had left the church. He now served bar patrons instead of the church, but that is a story for later.

Jolene's unease became more apparent as time passed. The regulars in the bar began picking up on it and sharing her concerns. Even I had to admit I started feeling a bit uneasy ever since that day of mourning. Then there was the mysterious bottle of Macallan Scotch.

One Saturday morning Jolene was behind the bar putting everything in order. Friday night had been very hectic and I hadn't had a chance to straighten up before I closed up. She called out to me, "Did someone order the Macallan last night?" Macallan is a very expensive scotch; so, it is not ordered very often.

"No, why?"

"The bottle was down on the bottom shelf where Joe Bob used to keep it. It was his favorite. I thought we were keeping it on the top shelf now."

"We are. I have no idea who moved it."

"Maybe it was Destiny?"

Turned out, it was not Destiny. And there were other incidents of things disappearing and reappearing somewhere else. Jolene started leaving piles of salt on the bar. It was supposed to drive off spirits. It eventually became the talk of the whole bar. I worried it might affect the bar's business, but it turns out, a lot of people are into haunted bars. Business was booming. But there was still that uneasy feeling. The kind that sends chills up your spine.

It was a Monday afternoon when I discovered the source of everyone's uneasy feelings. I was straightening up around the amps, speakers and other sound equipment we keep next to the stage in the "living room" where the open mic entertainers perform. I found an unusual configuration of a subwoofer hidden in a tube. It was turned on but I couldn't hear any sound coming from it. In the past, I might not have been able to make anything of the strange set up, but all the talk of haunting in the bar had prompted me to google the topic of scientific explanations for hauntings. I had learned that infrasound, sound at frequencies just below the frequencies that can be heard by humans is often the cause of the feelings of uneasiness associated with haunted locations. I recognized the subwoofer set up as being identical to one that was described to generate infrasound for the experiments that proved the association between infrasound and the eerie ghostly sensations.

The set up I found was no accident. I highly suspected Red was responsible for it as well as for all the mysterious disappearances and reappearances around the bar. It was definitely Red's type of prank and his skill with sleight of hand would make it easy for him to move things around undetected. I suspected I might also find there were a couple of shots missing from the errant Maccallan bottle. Red was no stranger to the finer tastes of the single malt whiskeys. Doubtless, this was his way of getting even with everyone for the embarrassment he had suffered at Freddy's hands.

I decided not to shut the speaker off or to Expose Red right away. Business was good and I had a plan how I could use this to my advantage in my quest to find out more about Joe Bob, my mysterious benefactor.