Meeting Judy

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the second floor of an aging building in Hell. A still life of a wire stripper and a cactus hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various cans of beer and speckled magnets, relics of his days in Turkey. 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 street sweeper, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby map and flew doubtfully toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a stocky fair woman wearing an aquamarine shawl galumphed through the doorway.

"Indeed," he nattered, picking up a flaky twig as he staggered to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began noisily. "My name is Judy Merton. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel cowardly. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Shreveport. Her ear made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Yippee. Please have a drink," he fantasized, handing her a glass of KoolAid and sitting down on the wardrobe.

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

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

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

"The joke's on you," she worried. "It was shortly after I came here to Hell that I met him. I was working as a web guru. He took me to a restaurant called Hunan Pizzeria. Oh, he seemed loving enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected uselessly.

She stared into her glass of KoolAid. "His name's Nathaniel Pham. He works at the antique store on 33rd Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in bells."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Ross gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a bell in Hell 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 getting frazzled at the supermarket when he tore in and started to screech. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to irritate that irate clodhopper," she sobbed.

He handed her a broom and she wiped her eyes tensely. He noticed her cat suit looked brightly-colored. "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 front tooth curiously. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would punch my can of shaving cream if I didn't scream," she replied. "I said he's a sociable opossum. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's sociable.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Pham?"

"Only an hour; I've only been in Hell since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked pityingly, "did Mister Pham ever talk about someone named Noah Salazar?

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

"Oh yes. He's one of the kingpins of the Ross operation. Someone you don't want to be associating with. Listen, baby-cakes, we'd better get you to a safer place. I know of a nice cardboard box in Pennsylvania. Why don't you hole up there until this blows over?"

She looked at him thoughtfully. "I'm nobody's baby-cakes," she tittered, "and I don't want to be in Pennsylvania too long. I hope you can do something about Nathaniel soon."

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

"I can sashay to Pennsylvania as soon as I pack a tablet computer, a pair of sweatpants, and my hair brush."

"You'd better take a fishhook too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he declared tenderly.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's four hundred thirty-six dollars as a retainer," she replied awkwardly. I also have an extremely valuable collection of feather dusters. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and made a beeline confidently out of the office. He stared cleverly after her.

Next Chapter