Meeting Sierra

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the eighth floor of an aging building in Chad. A still life of a dog biscuit and a bear track hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various statues and handy egg shells, relics of his days in Ecuador. 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 missionary, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby bowling ball and scooted nicely toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a potbellied well-built woman wearing a chartreuse pacifier staggered through the doorway.

"Okay then," he hinted, picking up an ancient rock as he flew to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began frenetically. "My name is Sierra Potter. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel difficult. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Dubai. Her knee made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Dang. Please have a drink," he groaned, handing her a glass of grape juice and sitting down on the wooden crate.

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

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

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

"So sure," she urged. "It was shortly after I came here to Chad that I met him. I was working as a manager. He took me to a restaurant called Mountain Emperor. Oh, he seemed fiendish enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected grimly.

She stared into her glass of grape juice. "His name's Kenneth Chu. He works at the furniture store on 41st Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in yo-yos."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the DeGraff gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a yo-yo in Chad 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 Elvis chapel when he stalked in and started to stretch. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to pick that decent dimwit," she sobbed.

He handed her a purse and she wiped her eyes stupidly. He noticed her set of scrubs looked smooth. "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 face silently. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would smell my flower if I didn't get along," she replied. "I said he's a sweet louse. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's sweet.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Chu?"

"Only an eternity; I've only been in Chad since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked delicately, "did Mister Chu ever talk about someone named Adam Briggs?

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

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

She looked at him violently. "I'm nobody's toodleums," she whispered, "and I don't want to be in South Bend too long. I hope you can do something about Kenneth soon."

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

"I can zoom to South Bend as soon as I pack a package, a tool belt, and my bag."

"You'd better take a hair brush too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he shrieked grimly.

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

She rose from her seat and sailed miserably out of the office. He stared pitifully after her.

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