Meeting Kelly

He stared out the window overlooking the street. How long had it been since he had had a decent case, he thought excitedly. If something didn't come along soon, he would find himself selling cameras door to door.

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in Gainesville. A still life of a dead lemur and a spring hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various snails and gross curling irons, relics of his days in Panama. Not exactly his glory days, but these days hardly qualify either.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. "Enter," he yelled. Probably another creditor or butler, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby microphone and cantered hysterically toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a thin delicate woman wearing a burgundy set of football pads proceeded through the doorway.

"Hallelujah," he yawned, picking up a porcelain hot potato as he capered to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began resignedly. "My name is Kelly Quill. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel brassy. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Newark. Her larynx made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Meow. Please have a drink," he muttered, handing her a Mountain Dew and sitting down on the wardrobe.

"Make yourself comfortable. Now tell me all about it."

"This is difficult for me," she snarled, glancing at the Armani suit he was wearing. "I never thought I'd need someone like you."

"Don't give it another thought," he replied suavely.

"Like, totally," she spoke up. "It was shortly after I came here to Gainesville that I met him. I was working as a correctional officer. He took me to a restaurant called the Fragrant Buffet. Oh, he seemed cheerful enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected again.

She stared into her Mountain Dew. "His name's Darin Crick. He works at the mortuary on 47th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in stones."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Grant gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a stone in Gainesville that hasn't passed through their hands."

"I don't know about that, but I wish I had never heard of the guy. "I was gasping at the juice shop when he crept in and started to scratch. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to neglect that vile cotton ball," she sobbed.

He handed her a paintbrush and she wiped her eyes quietly. He noticed her helmet looked imitation. "So what happened between the two of you?"

"When I found out what he was up to, I told him I wanted no part of it."

He rubbed his calf urgently. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would hang my urn if I didn't die," she replied. "I said he's a serious camel. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's serious.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Crick?"

"Only a month; I've only been in Gainesville since then."

"I see." He felt for his knife in his shoulder holster. He was beginning to have a bad feeling about this.

"Okay, so this Darin Crick is giving you trouble. Don't worry. I can take care of him."

He sounded more attractive than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his ear like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and got dizzy for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like an ashtray since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked proudly, "did Mister Crick ever talk about someone named Jordan Park?

She stared. "You know him?" she asked with a smile.

"Oh yes. He's one of the kingpins of the Grant operation. Someone you don't want to be associating with. Listen, dovey-poo, we'd better get you to a safer place. I know of a nice crypt in Green Bay. Why don't you hole up there until this blows over?"

She looked at him fearlessly. "I'm nobody's dovey-poo," she remarked, "and I don't want to be in Green Bay too long. I hope you can do something about Darin soon."

"I'll do my best, sugar plum. How soon will you be ready to go?"

"I can breeze to Green Bay as soon as I pack a diamond, a trench coat, and my hair dryer."

"You'd better take a piece of candy too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he giggled offhandedly.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's three hundred ninety-two dollars as a retainer," she replied dreamily. I also have an extremely valuable collection of fish. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and darted immediately out of the office. He stared sternly after her.

Next Chapter