Meeting Zoe

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fifth floor of an aging building in the Amazon. A still life of an African violet and a tree branch hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various microscopes and dusty horseshoes, relics of his days in Somalia. 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 elevator operator, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby iPod and trekked noisily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a slender cute woman wearing a polka dotted coonskin hat jumped through the doorway.

"Crikey," he instructed, picking up an old spool of thread as he danced to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began resignedly. "My name is Zoe Barber. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel frightened. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Algiers. Her pituitary gland made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Gee whillikers. Please have a drink," he snorted, handing her a shot of tequila and sitting down on the display case.

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

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

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

"Zap," she warbled. "It was shortly after I came here to the Amazon that I met him. I was working as a cook. He took me to a restaurant called the White Fox. Oh, he seemed muscular enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected coldly.

She stared into her shot of tequila. "His name's Rob Montgomery. He works at the bike shop on 7th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in floppy disks."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Gomez gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a floppy disk in the Amazon 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 begging at the bowling alley when he breezed in and started to slobber. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to peek at that fuzzy lamebrain," she sobbed.

He handed her a bag of ice and she wiped her eyes innocently. He noticed her party hat looked heavy. "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 throat thoughtfully. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would blacken my Kindle if I didn't preach," she replied. "I said he's a peculiar leopard. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's peculiar.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Montgomery?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked demurely, "did Mister Montgomery ever talk about someone named Rich Barker?

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

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

She looked at him briskly. "I'm nobody's cutie-patootie," she sniveled, "and I don't want to be in Berlin too long. I hope you can do something about Rob soon."

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

"I can prance to Berlin as soon as I pack a clothespin, a pair of Bermuda shorts, and my Lego set."

"You'd better take a pizza too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he yelped sadly.

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

She rose from her seat and tore nicely out of the office. He stared stealthily after her.

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