Mike Jastrzebski - Key Lime Blues

“I already wish I’d never met you, Bob. But I couldn’t stand by and watch you hurt the girl. Not after I found her for you. Tell you what, why don’t you go home, and I’ll ship the gun back to Frankie.”

Bob started struggling again, and the effort caused him to groan. “Don’t do that man-the boss’ll think I’m incontinent.”

“I think you mean incompetent,” I said.

“What, you an English teacher now? Like I said, Darling, you’re a dead man.”

I adjusted the gun to a more comfortable position, and was thankful the area around the bar was not very well lit. It also helped that there was no traffic at this time. I cast a final glance in Bob’s direction, pulled my shirt out to cover the pistol, and headed after Destiny at a slow jog.

While I ran, I wondered if I my attacking Bob might have been a little irrational. After all, he said he wasn’t going to hurt Destiny. But I knew, deep in the hidden regions of my mind, if Bob hurt or killed the girl I might never recover. I was still shaken by the death of the young girl, Celine Stewart, on my last case.

The neighborhood around me quickly turned residential. The narrow street consisted of a mix of small houses, a few retail stores and several larger houses that had been converted into guest homes. I’m sure at any other time it would have been picturesque, but on this night it possessed the charm of a ghetto.

I glanced back to make sure Bob hadn’t managed to get free, and then picked up my speed. I’d seen Destiny turn on to Caroline Street and that’s where I headed. Those belts weren’t going to hold Bob for long, and when he got free he was going to be as pissed off as an angry boar.

I spotted Destiny walking about a block ahead of me and pushed to catch up with her. If she was trying to get away, she wasn’t moving very fast. She walked with a slight limp, and I suspected her feet were hurting her. Considering the height of the heels on the shoes she was wearing, I wasn’t surprised.

Destiny must have heard the slap of my shoes on the pavement because she picked up her pace. When she realized her heels would not let her move fast enough to get away from me, she spun around, let her weight rest on her left hip, and began to swing her purse in front of her. “What do you want?” she asked.

I pulled up in front of her. “We’ve got to talk.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate you getting me out of this mess. But if you think by playing hero you get the girl, you’re wrong. Right now all I want is to go home, grab a stiff drink, and climb into bed.” She put her hands on her hips and added, “Alone. I think I’m leaving Key West tomorrow.”

“Bob wants those diamonds back, and now he’s pissed at both of us. The belts I tied him up with aren’t going to hold him for long. He could be out there looking for us right now.”

Destiny glanced behind her. “He’s got the wrong woman.” She spoke without a hint of hesitation, and I suspected she was used to lying.

I shook my head. “No, he doesn’t, and he knows it. Bob’s seen your picture. I have too. I’m a private investigator. Frankie hired my firm to find you. I didn’t know he was going to have someone meet you with a gun. He said he wanted to talk to you.”

“You son of a bitch. You could have gotten me killed.” She started to swing her purse in front of her. I’d seen how she’d used it for a weapon, so I timed the arc of her swing, moved forward, grabbed her arm, and held her. Her breath was tinged with the scent of tobacco and alcohol, and a faint flowery perfume clung to her hair.

“We need to talk,” I said again.

She looked back down the street and I could almost read her mind, Bob or me. She hesitated, turned on her smile, and licked her lips.

“All right.” She moved closer to me, brushing my chest with hers. “But if you’re going to protect me from Bob, who’s going to protect you from me?”

“What do you mean?”

Destiny brought her hands up to my shoulders and leaned in, kissing me on the cheek. I felt myself turn red when she moved her mouth up next to my ear and touched it with her lips.

I’ve always been a sucker for strong, exotic women, and the feel and touch of this woman was making me dizzy. She was aware of the effect she was having on me, and she smiled before moving back half a step. “What I mean,” she turned the smile into a smirk and drew out her words. “Is that I can take care of myself.”

“I want to help,” I said.

This seemed to amuse her. She blew me a kiss, said, “I don’t need your help,” and brought her knee up between my legs.

I yelped, let out a groan, and when I began to collapse, she shoved me backwards. While I fought to control my fall, Destiny kicked off her heels and began running down the street.

I lay on the sidewalk fighting the pain and cursing my stupidity. I knew she was a fighter but I’d still let down my guard. I grunted, and forced myself to take several slow deep breaths before climbing back to my feet. Somehow, I didn’t think she’d get far running in her bare feet, and I took a perverse pleasure in the knowledge that if she kept running on the pavement, she would soon be in as much pain as I was.

I hesitated, grabbed her shoes, and started off at a slow walk, increasing my speed as the throbbing eased. Soon I was jogging along Elizabeth Street at a quick enough pace that I was sure I would intercept her before long.

I run almost every day, but the sharp burning feeling in my groin was working against me. It took me a few minutes to catch my breath and I was pleased to discover that running made me forget my discomfort. Three blocks later, in front of The Church of God of Prophecy, I caught up with Destiny.

She let out a loud sigh when I pulled up alongside her. “Why don’t you leave me alone?” she asked.

I held the shoes out to her as a peace offering. “I got you into this so I’d like to help get you out of it. Besides, you can’t go home.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Frankie seems pretty set on locating you. Believe me, it’s not hard finding out where someone lives if you have an idea where to look. They know you’re in Key West for sure now. It’s only a matter of time until they dig up your address.”

Destiny put her heels back on while I watched. “You know you’re like a migraine headache. Just when I think I’ve gotten rid of you, there you are again. And each time you appear the pain gets a little more intense.”

She clenched her hands into fists, and her eyes looked wild and angry. At that moment, I was overcome with a ridiculous vision of her gouging my eyes out. I took two quick steps back. I was still walking funny, and I suspected that this woman might really be crazy enough to try and whip my ass.

“I was only doing my job,” I said. “You can’t go home though. You can’t take the chance Bob will be waiting there.”

She took several deep breaths, the anger melted from her face, and she let out a hoarse laugh. “This is the first time I ever kneed anyone in the balls. You went down like you’d been shot. You’re one of Tanya’s bartenders-Les something or other.”

“That’s Wes. Wes Darling.”

“Cute. So is this where you offer to take me up to your room and protect me? Because to tell you the truth, since I was fourteen every boy who’s offered to help me had one thought in mind. They wanted to help me all right. Out of my clothes and into bed. Is that the kind of help you have in mind, Wes?”

“A bit cynical, aren’t we?” I asked.

“A little trait my mother instilled in me at a young age.”

“Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have a room. I live on a boat. I guess going there is an option.”

“No it’s not.” Destiny’s voice faltered, and for the first time I saw fear in her eyes. “I don’t do boats. Understand? I mean, this is great. I’ve got about a hundred bucks in my purse, the clothes on my back, and I don’t have a credit card. For some reason banks don’t consider strippers a good risk.”