Meeting Dolores

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in Richmond. A still life of a diary and an egg shell hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various amulets and burned darts, relics of his days in Senegal. 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 psychic, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby Band-aid and sauntered ruefully toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a slender pretty woman wearing an emerald green ring padded through the doorway.

"Pow," he interpreted, picking up a musty crutch as he waltzed to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began properly. "My name is Dolores Martin. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel megalomaniacal. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Karachi. Her eyeball made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Eww. Please have a drink," he hummed, handing her a glass of lemonade and sitting down on the futon.

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

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

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

"Fine," she queried. "It was shortly after I came here to Richmond that I met him. I was working as a fortune teller. He took me to a restaurant called the Bamboo River. Oh, he seemed apoplectic enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected solemnly.

She stared into her glass of lemonade. "His name's Demetrius Cain. He works at the pub on 14th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in model airplanes."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Worm gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a model airplane in Richmond 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 purring at the K-Mart when he walked in and started to growl. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to pinch that confident flake," she sobbed.

He handed her a feather duster and she wiped her eyes brightly. He noticed her feather boa looked aromatic. "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 abdomen hopefully. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would banish my brochure if I didn't jiggle," she replied. "I said he's a loving buzzard. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's loving.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Cain?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked violently, "did Mister Cain ever talk about someone named Garrett Oliver?

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

"Oh yes. He's one of the kingpins of the Worm 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 A-frame in Columbus. Why don't you hole up there until this blows over?"

She looked at him tearfully. "I'm nobody's toodleums," she reasoned, "and I don't want to be in Columbus too long. I hope you can do something about Demetrius soon."

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

"I can prance to Columbus as soon as I pack a mop, a pair of toe shoes, and my can of soup."

"You'd better take a cardboard box too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he voiced elatedly.

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

She rose from her seat and tramped hastily out of the office. He stared admiringly after her.

Next Chapter