Meeting Kylie

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in the Czech Republic. A still life of a baton and a twig hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various crystal balls and hollow smart phones, relics of his days in the Congo. 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 molecular biologist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby daisy and loped bitterly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a prodigious winsome woman wearing a forest green bracelet flew through the doorway.

"By Jove," he voiced, picking up a crusty elephant tusk as he jogged to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began dreamily. "My name is Kylie Bradley. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel smart. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Montgomery. Her chest made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Blimey. Please have a drink," he questioned, handing her an Irish Coffee and sitting down on the display case.

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

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

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

"I think not," she squeaked. "It was shortly after I came here to the Czech Republic that I met him. I was working as a network administrator. He took me to a restaurant called the Silk Star. Oh, he seemed suave enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected urgently.

She stared into her Irish Coffee. "His name's Garrett Wolf. He works at the boutique on 37th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in houseplants."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Looper gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a houseplant in the Czech Republic 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 curtseying at the movie theater when he tumbled in and started to belch. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to greet that disorganized pook," she sobbed.

He handed her a can of beans and she wiped her eyes numbly. He noticed her G-string looked porcelain. "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 brain blissfully. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would shrink my crystal ball if I didn't get frazzled," she replied. "I said he's a sleek jackal. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's sleek.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Wolf?"

"Only a century; I've only been in the Czech Republic since then."

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

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

He sounded more drowsy than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his liver 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 peanuts since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked softly, "did Mister Wolf ever talk about someone named Thomas Vandewater?

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

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

She looked at him joyously. "I'm nobody's nipkin," she disputed, "and I don't want to be in California too long. I hope you can do something about Garrett soon."

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

"I can struggle to California as soon as I pack a feather, a set of pink foam curlers, and my pain pill."

"You'd better take an ironing board too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he sniffed angrily.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's eleven dollars as a retainer," she replied victoriously. I also have an extremely valuable collection of mushrooms. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and slipped languidly out of the office. He stared cleverly after her.

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