Meeting Shannon

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the tenth floor of an aging building in Egypt. A still life of a tablet computer and a twig hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various pumpkins and multicolored dog biscuits, relics of his days in Rwanda. 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 gemcutter, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby napkin and jumped frenetically toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a lanky tall woman wearing a lime-green straitjacket sped through the doorway.

"Aw," he screamed, picking up a curved clam as he stormed to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began suavely. "My name is Shannon Law. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel portly. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Salinas. Her eyeball made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Good grief. Please have a drink," he spouted, handing her a painkiller and sitting down on the cushion.

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

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

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

"Kazow," she decided. "It was shortly after I came here to Egypt that I met him. I was working as a bus driver. He took me to a restaurant called Imperial Pan. Oh, he seemed tense enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected courteously.

She stared into her painkiller. "His name's Horsie Badwell. He works at the drug store on 10th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in iPads."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Stewart gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not an iPad 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 gasping at the swimming pool when he went in and started to jump. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to fool that rugged snake," she sobbed.

He handed her a cookie and she wiped her eyes intensely. He noticed her pair of bell-bottoms looked art deco. "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 foot happily. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would extend my battle axe if I didn't sigh," she replied. "I said he's an excitable squirrel. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's excitable.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Badwell?"

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

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

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

He sounded more intelligent 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 played 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 despondently, "did Mister Badwell ever talk about someone named Tommy Galloza?

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

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

She looked at him glibly. "I'm nobody's baby-doll," she joked, "and I don't want to be in Warsaw too long. I hope you can do something about Horsie soon."

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

"I can swagger to Warsaw as soon as I pack a can of sardines, a gunny sack, and my Kindle."

"You'd better take a pain pill too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he concluded smoothly.

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

She rose from her seat and jogged cunningly out of the office. He stared swiftly after her.

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