Mike Jastrzebski - Key Lime Blues

Destiny moved up behind him and began to massage his shoulders. “I’m bored, Frankie,” she said.

Frankie looked up at her and pointed to the empty seat across from him. “Sit down over there. We’ll play some gin. Penny a point.”

“I don’t want to play,” Destiny said. “You always win.” She dropped her hands from his shoulders and backed away from him. “Besides, you know I don’t like cards.”

“Suit yourself.” Frankie shrugged, and went back to his game.

“Know what I like, Frankie?”

“What’s that?”

“Baseball.”

“It’s late,” Frankie said. “I’m not going outside to play ball in the dark.”

He shook his head, looked in my direction, and made a circling motion with his finger around his ear. “Dumb broad,” he said before laying out another hand of cards.

Destiny was still standing behind Frankie. I looked over at her as she shot him the finger. If he’d seen the look of hatred and loathing that crossed her face, I’m positive he wouldn’t have kept his back turned to her. In fact, I suspect he would have killed her on the spot, diamonds or no diamonds.

Destiny took a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face. “I know that, silly. I was thinking back to when I was a kid. I never played cards, but I loved baseball. You ever play ball, Frankie?”

“Sure,” he said. “But we didn’t have the fancy ball fields kids got now-a-days. We played in the street and we were always breaking windows and getting chased off by the cops. Course that was before Detroit went to the niggers.”

Destiny reached out and slapped Frankie playfully on the shoulder. “That’s not a nice word, Frankie.”

“Hell, it ain’t personal. It’s what my old man called ‘em, and my grandpa before him. It’s what we all called ‘em when I was growing up. What’s the big deal; they call each other that now. I’ve heard ‘em. Besides, it’s not your business to reprimand me.” He glared over his shoulder at her and went back to dealing his cards.

I was growing tired of the bantering, and was beginning to hope they’d go outside and toss a ball around a little. I’d spent the past ten minutes listening to their inane conversation, and twisting and pulling on my bindings. To my surprise, Willie had done a shitty job of tying me up and the ropes were loose. I was pretty sure that if they’d leave me alone for ten minutes, I’d be able to work myself free.

“I played in high school,” Destiny went on. “I was the left fielder, and the best batter on the team. I’ve still got my bat and glove. Wait here, I’ll go get them and show you.”

As Destiny ran down the hall, Frankie leaned back in his chair and shook his head again. “The girl’s got a screw loose.”

“I think more than one,” I said.

He rubbed his forehead and we both looked over in disbelief when Destiny came back into the room wearing a well-worn ball cap. She still had on the white dress and carried an aluminum bat slung over her right shoulder. On her left hand she wore a fielder’s glove, and inside the glove she carried a soft ball. It was one hell of a uniform.

Frankie laughed when he saw the ball. “That ain’t no baseball,” he said. “That’s a softball.”

“Girls play softball, Frankie.” Her voice hardened, but she kept the smile. She leaned the bat against the edge of the table and plucked the ball from the glove.

She tossed it up into the air several times and it made a little woof sound when it hit her glove. “Come on Frankie,” she said. “Let’s go out back and you can toss me a couple. I’ll make it worth your while when we’re done. I promise.”

Frankie shook his head. “Don’t bother me with no more of this nonsense. You can’t do anything for me except make sure I get my stones back. Now shut up and go sit in the corner until Willie gets back here.”

If Destiny was disappointed, she didn’t show it. Instead, she took the glove off and set it on the table next to her bottle of nail polish. She laid the ball inside the glove, picked up the bat, and walked over to the center of the living room.

Destiny lifted the bat onto her shoulder, crouched into a batter’s stance, and wiggled her ass while she pretended she was at bat.

It was quite a sight, and neither of us could take our eyes off of her while she stood there. She leaned in and swung the bat, and then she held her hand up to shade her eyes and pretended she was watching a hit ball.

“The ball is out of here,” she said.

I watched her with fascination, but Frankie seemed bored with the show. If this was the way he’d treated her when they were together, I could understand why Destiny had left him, even why she might have felt she was entitled to the diamonds.

Frankie snorted, and turned back to his cards. “You’re crazy as a loon.”

A pained look flashed across Destiny’s face. For a moment I thought she was going to cry. Instead, she looked at me and held a single finger in front of her lips indicating that I should remain silent. When I nodded that I understood, she rested the bat on her shoulder and crept up behind Frankie. She looked in my direction again, smiled, and mouthed the words, “Not as dumb as he thinks.”

It took me a moment to realize what she had in mind and I almost yelled out a warning to Frankie, but I was too startled. I watched with morbid fascination as she lifted the bat, took her batter’s stance, and swung it toward Frankie’s head. It was a solid swing and Frankie never knew what hit him. The bat connected with a dull thud and he tumbled from his chair.

The cards went flying and I jumped my chair back while blood splattered everywhere. I was pretty sure Frankie was dead, and for a moment I thought she was going to turn her building rage toward me.

Instead, she tossed the bat across the room and looked down at her dress, which was spotted with blood.

“Shit,” she said. “My dress is ruined.”

“You’ve got more to worry about than your dress,” I said. “Why the hell did you have to kill him? You couldn’t have just clipped him enough to knock him out? Or maybe you’re crazy like Frankie suggested.”

Ignoring me, Destiny reached down, grabbed the bottom edge of her dress and pulled it up over her head. She tossed it over near the bat and stood in front of me, hands on her hips, wearing only white thong bikini panties. Lately, every time I saw this woman she was taking off her clothes, and I had my hands tied behind my back. The whole thing was absurd. It might even have been funny if there wasn’t a body lying on the floor in front of me.

When she continued to ignore me I raised my voice and spoke again. “I said you didn’t have to kill him.”

Destiny shot me an ugly look. “Frankie was going to kill both of us as soon as he got his hands on the diamonds. I just beat him to the punch. I guess he wasn’t as smart as he thought he was.”

“I guess not,” I said. “Why don’t you cut me loose and we’ll call the cops. I’ll back you up. You had to do something or we weren’t going to get out of here alive.”

She leaned forward, placed her hands on my shoulders and kneaded the muscles leading up to my neck. Her breasts were inches from my face and she seemed almost apologetic when she said, “I don’t think you get the whole picture, Wes.”

“What do you mean?” I forced my eyes away from her breasts and met her gaze.

“I can’t cut you free. I’m afraid if the cops come in here they’re going to find Bob’s gun. They’re also going to find out it’s the gun that killed Billy and Bob. And by the way, I’m sorry about your friend. He seemed like a nice guy.”

I broke into a sweat. For the first time since I’d met her, I realized Destiny really was crazy. Not the ditzy way Frankie had looked at her, but a full-blown psychopathic crazy that scared the hell out of me.