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Private Investigator – Chapter 11

Posted in erbooker by erbooker on 12/31/2014

Private Investigator

Frank Francis is a private detective. A private eye. A private dick.

Chapter 11 – I’ll Be Around

Olivia St. John, the new head of the Dorsey Gang, agreed to meet with me in the bar across the street from my office. And she was late. I hate when people are late. It’s like they’re saying ‘my time is more important than yours’. Now granted, a lot of the times it is; but that’s beside the point.

In she sashayed. I’d be hard-pressed to remember a time when this girl didn’t sashay. It was her only mode of locomotion. Maybe it was some sort of condition. She planted herself on the stool next to mine and swiveled to meet me, her sultry auburn eyes and freckled olive skin shining in the dimly-lit light. This joint needed to pay its electricity bill.

“Detective, you look worn-down.”

“Why, thank you,” I replied, my voice cracking in the manner of someone who doesn’t talk to exotically beautiful mysterious women a lot.

“And how’s Albert?”

“Al’s good. He misses you.”

“Is that so?”

“No, he hates your guts. I actually had to tell him we were meeting somewhere else because I was afraid he would pummel you to death.”

Olivia rested her hand on my knee and smiled, “You still care about me. Remember when we had our first dance here?”

“Let’s cut the crap, St. John,” I blurted, voice-crackingly.

She moved her hand up my knee, “You always did love cutting the crap.”

She was right. It was one of my favorite hobbies. That and shooting the shit.

“You need to lay off Dong. Stop shaking him down.”


“Now yo–what.”

“I said okay. It’s just a butcher shop. We can find the money somewhere else. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

“What kinda fish?”

Olivia hopped down off her stool and winked, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Yes, I would. I’m a private investigator and you’re a bad guy.”

“Girl, Frank,” Olivia leaned in, her lips brushed against my ear as she whispered. “I’m a bad girl.”

I watched the new crime kingpin of New Jersey sashay out of that dingy bar, her caboose swinging from left to right like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. This dame made me feel things I didn’t know I could feel anymore. Thought I was too old. Thought time had passed me by.

What I’m trying to say is she gave me another boner.

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