Mike Jastrzebski - Key Lime Blues

By five o’clock I’d finished two bottles of Miller Lite and was about to head over to pay Elvis a visit when Destiny came strolling by. She wore a short white dress, but there was nothing virginal about the way she swung her hips when she walked. Even my gay waiter stopped what he was doing and watched her walk by. She paused almost in front of me, crossed the street without looking in my direction, and ran up the stairs to Elvis’s house. I couldn’t believe my luck.

I ordered another beer, but decided not to drink it while I waited. Three beers in one afternoon was way over my limit. I was having a hard time sitting still and hoped there wasn’t a rear entrance to Elvis’s place. I didn’t want to lose her now. An hour later Destiny came out onto the porch and then ran down the steps.

I laid a twenty on the table, and when Destiny strolled by I stood and followed her. If for any reason I later decided Elvis was involved, I always knew where to find him. Right now I wanted to know where Destiny was staying.

Destiny turned west onto Duval, unaware she was being followed. She seemed unconcerned about the time, wandering along the street in a carefree manner.

I crossed Duval, weaving between the traffic, and walked opposite her, using the crowd as a shield.

Destiny stopped at a clothing store and looked at several sundresses before she meandered along without buying anything. She stopped a block further on and bought an ice cream cone, then crossed the street and headed back in my direction. I ducked into a tee-shirt shop and pretended to examine the merchandise until she passed by. She didn’t look my way and didn’t appear to have a destination. I suspected she might be killing time, and I was curious as to why.

A half hour later we wandered into Mallory square. To the west, the cruise ship that had docked earlier dominated the skyline and hundreds of tourists milled about waiting for the coming sunset celebration. This was a unique Key West affair. Every night throughout the year residents, tourists, and various street performers gathered to pay homage to the end of the day. That night the crowd was large, which made keeping an eye on Destiny a little harder.

Destiny pushed her way into a group of people watching an acrobat. The man was in his late forties, wore his red hair in an out of date Mohawk cut, and was dressed in pink and purple tights. He was too old for the look, but entertaining enough to distract me. I came close to losing her.

When the sun was almost down and the sky filled with red and purple hues, she started drifting back toward Duval. Along the way the hordes of people began to thin and I was forced to pull back further and further from Destiny to keep her from spotting me.

By the time she turned off of Duval it was dark, but I didn’t dare get any closer. A few minutes later Destiny turned into the yard of a small duplex and headed toward the porch.

When Destiny started up the steps I ducked behind a pickup truck parked along the street and waited. I watched her take a key from her purse and insert it into the lock. When she pushed the door open I bolted out from behind the truck and took the steps in two leaps.

Destiny heard me and spun around, squealing when recognition set in. She slipped back into the house and tried to slam the door shut in my face. I brushed it aside with my shoulder and grabbed her wrist.

“Get the hell out of here.” Destiny kicked out and caught my leg with her foot.

“No, it’s okay. Why don’t you stick around for awhile Wes,” a voice called out from across the room as I rushed through the door chasing Destiny. “This way, I don’t have to send Willie back out looking for you.”

Destiny’s eyes turned cold, and she spun away from me. “I didn’t know he was following me, Frankie.” There was a hint of fear in her voice. “I would have called you if I’d seen him.”

I groaned, scanned the room, and considered my odds. I recognized Frankie from a picture I’d seen in one of the newspaper articles I’d read about him on the internet. He was seated on one of four wood chairs set out around a small colonial style table. He had swung his chair around enough to face the door.

Frankie had a thin cigar hanging from his lips. He was in his late sixties, and I fought to hold back a laugh when I saw the yellow shorts and pink flowered shirt he was wearing. They seemed a bit much, even by Key West standards.

Willie was seated across from him. He reached behind his back and drew out a revolver when he saw me.

“It’s okay hon.” Frankie stood and looked me up and down. “Me and Willie have been looking for Wes all day. Hell, I was beginning to think he’d been avoiding us. You ain’t been avoiding us, have you Wes?”

He took a step in my direction, and I started to back out of the open door. Frankie snapped his fingers, and Willie raised the gun and cocked the hammer.

“Close the door, Wes,” Frankie said.

“You aren’t going to shoot me, Frankie. The neighbors will hear.”

“What do you think, Willie? Do you care about the neighbors? I know I don’t give a fuck about no neighbors.”

“Not me, Frankie.” Willie cast a wicked grin in my direction. “You want me to kill him, or just wing him?”

The tone of Willie’s voice sent a chill up my spine. I realized that he would just as soon kill me as not. I considered my options and pushed the door closed behind me.

“What do you want with me, Frankie?”

He crossed the room, sat down on a sun-faded sofa, and put his feet on the table in front of him. “Now that’s a dumb question.” Frankie gave an exaggerated sigh. “I want my diamonds. Willie here, that’s another story. He wants to talk to you about who killed his brother.”

“It wasn’t me,” I said.

Frankie took a deep draw off his cigar, let out a cloud of smoke, and leaning forward he stubbed it out on the corner of the table.

“Frankie.” Destiny ran over and took the cigar butt from his fingers. “That was my mother’s table.”

Frankie threw her a look that sent her scurrying away.

“We don’t know you didn’t kill Bob, do we?” he said. “You left with him. He died, you didn’t. Even if I believe you it doesn’t tell me what I really want to know.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Where are my fucking diamonds?”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” I said. “Destiny has them.”

“That true, Destiny?”

“No, Frankie, he’s lying.” She looked at me, winked, and moved over next to Frankie. “The night when he beat up Bob outside of Alvin’s, he made me go with him and get the diamonds. I tried to tell him we needed to give them back to you. He wouldn’t listen.”

I groaned. This was not going well at all. I knew that if I were Frankie, I’d lean toward believing the tall redhead too. This lady was in the wrong line of work. She would have made a hell of an actress.

“She’s lying, Frankie,” I said.

He gave Destiny a wolfish grin. Reaching out, he began to stroke the side of her face. When she tried to move away he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her face close to his.

“Are you lying to me Destiny?”

“No Frankie, I swear.” She started to cry. I suspected they were faux sobs.

He shook her head and this time her cries were real. “If you’re lying to me, Destiny, I’m going to have Willie cut off your titties and make you eat them. Do you understand?”

“I do, Frankie. I swear I’m telling the truth.”

“The truth is good,” Frankie said. He gave Destiny’s head one more shake and released her hair. He gave her ass a gentle swipe, laughed, and turned his attention back to me.

“Willie, search him.”

“Look Frankie, I told you I don’t have them.”