Meeting Delores

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the seventh floor of an aging building in Hawaii. A still life of a firecracker and a fish hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various spinning wheels and stolen arrowheads, 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 psychiatrist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby baseball bat and crept gracefully toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a dwarf massive woman wearing a jet black big grin sidled through the doorway.

"Heck," he boasted, picking up a hand-made flash drive as he inched to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began defiantly. "My name is Delores Adams. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel lively. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Midland. Her heart made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Durn it. Please have a drink," he orated, handing her a glass of apple juice and sitting down on the bath mat.

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

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

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

"Man alive," she exploded. "It was shortly after I came here to Hawaii that I met him. I was working as a bounty hunter. He took me to a restaurant called European Bakery. Oh, he seemed deadly enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected intensely.

She stared into her glass of apple juice. "His name's Lawrence Zimmer. He works at the souvenir shop on 46th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in bird baths."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Pearson gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a bird bath in Hawaii 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 howling at the pet store when he whirled in and started to puff. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to transform that drowsy lackwit," she sobbed.

He handed her a space suit and she wiped her eyes cruelly. He noticed her denim skirt looked rough. "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 collarbone angrily. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would bury my Egyptian mummy if I didn't peep," she replied. "I said he's a coy cat. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's coy.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Zimmer?"

"Only a month; I've only been in Hawaii since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked caustically, "did Mister Zimmer ever talk about someone named Eduardo Goodman?

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

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

She looked at him dubiously. "I'm nobody's poopsie," she pleaded, "and I don't want to be in Germany too long. I hope you can do something about Lawrence soon."

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

"I can stagger to Germany as soon as I pack a lollipop, a blazer, and my fishing rod."

"You'd better take a football too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he called urgently.

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

She rose from her seat and zoomed uselessly out of the office. He stared tenderly after her.

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