Meeting Kimberly

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the third floor of an aging building in Egypt. A still life of a cigarette lighter and a fallen tree hung crookedly on his wall. The office was adorned with various computers and miniature paper clips, relics of his days in Germany. 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 entomologist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby blank check and slipped sympathetically toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a petite athletic woman wearing a maroon pair of panties bounded through the doorway.

"Yipes," he whimpered, picking up a luxurious balloon as he slithered to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began quietly. "My name is Kimberly Fisher. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel prissy. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Salinas. Her eyelid made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Meow. Please have a drink," he bawled, handing her a cosmopolitan and sitting down on the pool table.

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

"This is difficult for me," she affirmed, glancing at the pair of Crocs he was wearing. "I never thought I'd need someone like you."

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

"Deranged," she barked. "It was shortly after I came here to Egypt that I met him. I was working as a priest. He took me to a restaurant called Kyoto Moon. Oh, he seemed rude enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected ferociously.

She stared into her cosmopolitan. "His name's Devin Owen. He works at the electronics store on 22nd Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in pain pills."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Crawford gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a pain pill in Egypt 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 sleeping at the synagogue when he barrelled in and started to grin. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to peck at that amiable snake," she sobbed.

He handed her a smart phone and she wiped her eyes stupidly. He noticed her letter jacket looked electric. "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 forehead strictly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would feel my calculator if I didn't gesticulate," she replied. "I said he's a decent Siamese cat. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's decent.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Owen?"

"Only a minute; I've only been in Egypt since then."

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

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

He sounded more gentle than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his piehole like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and dawdled for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like a stagnant pond since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked boldly, "did Mister Owen ever talk about someone named Giovanni Crawford?

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

"Oh yes. He's one of the kingpins of the Crawford operation. Someone you don't want to be associating with. Listen, mon bébé, we'd better get you to a safer place. I know of a nice junk car in Vancouver. Why don't you hole up there until this blows over?"

She looked at him gingerly. "I'm nobody's mon bébé," she remarked, "and I don't want to be in Vancouver too long. I hope you can do something about Devin soon."

"I'll do my best, knight in shining armor. How soon will you be ready to go?"

"I can straggle to Vancouver as soon as I pack a lemon, a pair of Bermuda shorts, and my skull."

"You'd better take an iPhone too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he peeped tensely.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's four hundred ten dollars as a retainer," she replied hysterically. I also have an extremely valuable collection of Lego sets. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and sailed shyly out of the office. He stared fiercely after her.

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