Meeting Alexis

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in Oxford. A still life of a cigar and a fern hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various needles and thread and amazing napkins, relics of his days in Armenia. 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 real estate agent, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby bouquet and swaggered sympathetically toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a prodigious lean woman wearing a purple nose ring hopped through the doorway.

"Uh-oh," he disputed, picking up a stolen Band-aid as he slumped to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began properly. "My name is Alexis Welles. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel colorless. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Lincoln. Her chest made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Kaboom. Please have a drink," he fumed, handing her a Mojito and sitting down on the buffet.

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

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

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

"Oh," she squawked. "It was shortly after I came here to Oxford that I met him. I was working as a harpist. He took me to a restaurant called the Rainbow Pizzeria. Oh, he seemed sarcastic enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected nimbly.

She stared into her Mojito. "His name's Lee Campbell. He works at the train depot on 10th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in bird feeders."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Nye gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a bird feeder in Oxford 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 hiding at the senior citizens center when he sailed in and started to cry. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to harass that ungainly bumpkin," she sobbed.

He handed her a potato and she wiped her eyes cunningly. He noticed her nightgown looked expensive. "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 funny bone automatically. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would seal my floppy disk if I didn't throw up," she replied. "I said he's a stylish hermit crab. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's stylish.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Campbell?"

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

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

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

He sounded more athletic than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his hangnail like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and adjusted the clock for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like baking cookies since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked humbly, "did Mister Campbell ever talk about someone named JD Hopkins?

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

"Oh yes. He's one of the kingpins of the Nye operation. Someone you don't want to be associating with. Listen, honey, we'd better get you to a safer place. I know of a nice travel trailer in Lima. Why don't you hole up there until this blows over?"

She looked at him glibly. "I'm nobody's honey," she boomed, "and I don't want to be in Lima too long. I hope you can do something about Lee soon."

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

"I can bounce to Lima as soon as I pack a muffin, a few polka-dotted rags, and my tennis racket."

"You'd better take a fork too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he griped woodenly.

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

She rose from her seat and rolled woodenly out of the office. He stared hopefully after her.

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