DANGER BROAD - Pharmacists and Leads

Maynard sat at the bar, the afternoon sun slowing moving across the window of the restaurant, a cool breeze blowing leaves across the sidewalk and up against the glass. Something wicked this way comes, he thought, the phrase jumping into his head, a quote from an old poem.

He was waiting for his contact. Rando was a frequent patron at the Pink Flamingo, and always had a joke or two up his sleeve, in between showing anyone who would buy him a drink card tricks.

Taking a drag on his Winston cigarette while nursing his gin & tonic, he thought about the last joke Rando had told, while at the same time relieving him of a C Note.

A young man goes into a drug store to buy condoms. The pharmacist says "The condoms come in packs of 3, 9 or 12 and asks which the young man wants.

"Well," he said, "I've been seeing this girl for a while and she's really hot. I want the condoms because I think tonight's "the" night. We're having dinner with her parents, and then we're going out. And I've got a feeling I'm gonna get lucky after that. Once she's had me, she'll want me all the time, so you'd better give me the 12 pack."

The young man makes his purchase and leaves. Later that evening, he sits down to dinner with his girlfriend and her parents. He asks if he might give the blessing, and they agree. He begins the prayer, but continues praying with his head down for several minutes after everyone starts eating.

The girl leans over and says, "You never told me that you were such a religious person."


He leans over to her and says, "You never told me that your father is a pharmacist."


Maynard winced at the memory. Rando's grin, missing several teeth, was a sight to behold, as he ended with the punch line, while at the same time getting the Potato Chip King to give up his dough. Maynard laughed in spite of himself.

Sultry Veruca was on stage, singing a smoky ballad, something about love on the high seas, or something like that, Maynard couldn't quite make the words out. She sure was a looker. But he wasn't there for that right now, there was business to attend to.

Commishioner Oyl was on his tail to get this case sewed up, it was going on for far too long. The Rookie Sar was getting better and better everyday, it wouldn't be long before she would really be on her own and not need his guidance. Just like a woman, Maynard thought. I teach her everything I know, and then she uses it with some other guy.

Time was running short. Where the hell was Rando?


*******************************************************

Debbie sat behind the wheel of her non descript blue Neon. No more rusty green Toyota for her. The time in the slammer had paid her well, taking the rap for the real perpetrator of the crime against that blonde witch. If only that snitch Maynard hadn't turned at the last minute, it would have all been perfect! The blonde floozie would be dead, she would have her money, and she would be with the man she loved. Now he was gone, taking a job in Utah, of all places. She had to finish the job or she wouldn't get the rest of what was coming to her.

The warehouse parking lot was full of activity, as it was the change of shift, 4:00 p.m. Men with flannel shirts and hardhats, steel lunch pails and green knapsacks, they were headed to their trucks and SUV's, going home to their families, wives, girlfriends, babies.

She sat low in the seat behind the wheel. No sense taking the risk of being seen. She had parked in the far end of the lot, against some trees and overgrown brush, neglected for years and in the same shape as the rest of the building, broken down and dirty. Where the hell was this chick she was supposed to pick up? She was supposed to be the best in the business, in and out of a situation before the mark even knew it.

Then she saw her. The woman saw her as well, making the eye contact sign they had agreed on. The woman bent down and adjusted the laces on her boots.

She walked over to the passenger's side of the car.

She had a tipirillo cigar between her red lips, full from a recent collegen treatment.

Debbie looked at her.

Beth? she grunted?

The woman looked at her. "How do I know you're who you say you are?"

Debbie pulled out a wad of 10 one hundred dollar bills.

"Works for me" she said and put her hand on the door handle to open the door. Sliding into the seat, she turned to look at the abrasive, hard woman holding a picture. It was that of a short petite blonde sitting at the bar at the local restaurant, the Pink Flamingo.

"Meet your new best friend, Babe" Debbie said as she handed the wad of bills to the operative.

She started the ignition and they drove away in silence.



TO be continued...