Meeting Blanca

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the tenth floor of an aging building in Liverpool. A still life of a doily and an apple tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various comic books and bizarre cookies, relics of his days in China. 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 roofer, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby handkerchief and bolted dubiously toward his desk.

His eyes widened as an enormous scruffy woman wearing a chocolate brown black armband bounced through the doorway.

"Quick," he informed, picking up a brittle Rubik's cube as he waddled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began stupidly. "My name is Blanca Lange. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel shifty. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Jackson. Her tail made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Blecch. Please have a drink," he affirmed, handing her a gin and tonic and sitting down on the safe.

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

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

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

"Oh my word," she reacted. "It was shortly after I came here to Liverpool that I met him. I was working as a shoe repairer. He took me to a restaurant called Gourmet Social Club. Oh, he seemed absent-minded enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected nimbly.

She stared into her gin and tonic. "His name's Hoss Parker. He works at the haberdashery on 23rd Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in pinwheels."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Cole gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a pinwheel in Liverpool 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 turning blue at the senior citizens center when he slithered in and started to flinch. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to sanitize that earnest cur," she sobbed.

He handed her a stack of papers and she wiped her eyes frantically. He noticed her black armband looked ancient. "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 palm firmly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would understand my thumb drive if I didn't calm down," she replied. "I said he's a furry mosquito. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's furry.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Parker?"

"Only a fortnight; I've only been in Liverpool since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked sadly, "did Mister Parker ever talk about someone named Lex Lizard?

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

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

She looked at him sadly. "I'm nobody's teddy bear," she trumpeted, "and I don't want to be in Ann Arbor too long. I hope you can do something about Hoss soon."

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

"I can creep to Ann Arbor as soon as I pack a flash drive, a cardigan, and my compass."

"You'd better take a can of soup too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he groveled carefully.

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

She rose from her seat and skidded nimbly out of the office. He stared strangely after her.

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