Meeting Hattie

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the second floor of an aging building in Croatia. A still life of a butterfly net and a spring hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various beach balls and smelly batons, relics of his days in Bahrain. 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 test pilot, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby pair of cargo pants and skidded thankfully toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a massive adorable woman wearing a striped pair of heels traipsed through the doorway.

"OMG," he burbled, picking up a chic diary as he skittered to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began admiringly. "My name is Hattie Klinger. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel desperate. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Durham. Her tummy made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Stinkers. Please have a drink," he noted, handing her a shot of bourbon and sitting down on the china cabinet.

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

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

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

"Amen," she raved. "It was shortly after I came here to Croatia that I met him. I was working as a nuclear physicist. He took me to a restaurant called the Great Dynasty. Oh, he seemed funny enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected furiously.

She stared into her shot of bourbon. "His name's Dan Hampton. He works at the bus station on 3rd Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in campaign signs."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Melville gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a campaign sign in Croatia 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 showing up at the pet store when he breezed in and started to dream. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to hide from that silly dopefiend," she sobbed.

He handed her an iPod and she wiped her eyes miserably. He noticed her corsage looked woven. "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 gruffly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would squash my ping-pong paddle if I didn't sneer," she replied. "I said he's a gregarious squirrel. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's gregarious.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Hampton?"

"Only a day; I've only been in Croatia since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked dreamily, "did Mister Hampton ever talk about someone named Ahmed Hunter?

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

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

She looked at him dolorously. "I'm nobody's old friend," she added, "and I don't want to be in Little Rock too long. I hope you can do something about Dan soon."

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

"I can trek to Little Rock as soon as I pack a remote control, a cowboy hat, and my iPhone."

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

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's two hundred forty-two dollars as a retainer," she replied tensely. I also have an extremely valuable collection of stuffed bunnies. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and cantered jokingly out of the office. He stared crazily after her.

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