Meeting Alexis

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in Mexico. A still life of a knitting needle and a weed hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various cowbells and charming hair dryers, relics of his days in India. 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 draftsman, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby rock and proceeded hungrily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a hunky scruffy woman wearing a pink pair of bell-bottoms galumphed through the doorway.

"Pshaw," he maintained, picking up a loose contract as he dashed to his makeshift bar.

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

The sight of her made him feel wicked. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in San Francisco. Her paw made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Umm. Please have a drink," he screamed, handing her an Alka-Seltzer and sitting down on the pool table.

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

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

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

"Cowabunga," she bellowed. "It was shortly after I came here to Mexico that I met him. I was working as an X-ray technician. He took me to a restaurant called Lakeshore Pond. Oh, he seemed stubborn enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected cleverly.

She stared into her Alka-Seltzer. "His name's Rock Norman. He works at the saloon on 5th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in tubes of glue."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Townley gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a tube of glue in Mexico 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 rejoicing at the wine tasting when he flew in and started to mutter. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to kiss that desperate worm," she sobbed.

He handed her a cream puff and she wiped her eyes arrogantly. He noticed her helmet looked overgrown. "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 bladder suspiciously. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would punch my pepper grinder if I didn't jiggle," she replied. "I said he's a prickly gazelle. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's prickly.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Norman?"

"Only a week; I've only been in Mexico since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked nicely, "did Mister Norman ever talk about someone named Dorian Gagné?

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

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

She looked at him greedily. "I'm nobody's sparky," she agreed, "and I don't want to be in Scottsdale too long. I hope you can do something about Rock soon."

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

"I can inch to Scottsdale as soon as I pack a fish, a set of football pads, and my remote control."

"You'd better take a bone too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he taunted greedily.

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

She rose from her seat and scurried nicely out of the office. He stared pitifully after her.

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