Chapter 1

Straight off the bat, I was confused.

Really.

Not particularly unhappy ... I was warm. Recently ... like seconds ago ... I’d been cold, and this was way better than looking forward to another Michigan Lake front winter.

However ... no Chicago ... no buildings, no Navy Pier, no concrete Lake Front Trail ... and sand-dunes behing me. I might not be in Chicago.

Probably not ... the trees are palms ... hmm. I am not in a panic ... yet. Before I do ... I should check the purse ... A .32 revolver is no kind of gun for real work.

“Hey!”

A female voice ... not young ... not old ... a college age voice.

Hmm:? I wasn’t alone.

If I had my ‘druthers about who was going to share my dream ... a college aged woman fit nicely. I turned to see.

Hooboyhowdy...”What?” A babe.

“That’s my purse.”

“Not now ... I found it on the sidewalk.”

“Well ... it’s mine and I want it back.”

I dumped it out on the picnic table that wasn’t there a second ago.

Whoever was running my life now knew what he/she/whatever was doing. I knew I didn’t want to dump my purse on the sand ... and a table with benches showed up.

I thanked the air. “Thanks.”

“Yer Welcome.” First time ever I got an answer.

I sat.

There was 4 fifty round boxes of .32 extra long rim assorted hollow-points. No manufacture I’d ever heard of.

She came running ... quite the bounce in her low-cut toOoOoOop. Out even ... once. Nice. Pink tiny nipples. Nice. She looked to be running with intent. Collision? Maybe?

The width of the table was between us ... length would have been better ... but ya takes what ya can get ... got.

“Where’s the fella you were with?”

“What fella?”

I pointed in her general direction ... not at her ... but at the leg sticking out from the bush ... the very one she’d been behind before I showed up... “That one.”

If she had have been wearing shoes and running on asphalt ... there would have been a squeal as she decelerated. Stopped ... teetered back and said, “Where is my revolver?”

Guilty.

As much as I hated wasting what was possibly the only set of tits and pussy in easy reach ... I whipped that revolver out from behind my back and shot her.

Well ... at her.

It was the teeter that saved her ... and her hard head ... hey ... it’s Chicago, hard headed women live there ... it wasn’t a hit. Wasn’t a miss, either. For the rest of her life she would have an interesting reminder of my willingness to shoot. How long that reminder reminded her depended on what she said when she woke up ... and the condition of the body attached to the leg sticking out from behind the bush.

And my thorough investigation of the contents of her... my ... purse. If the badge at the top of the pile said Intersteller Problem Solver ... probably not long.

I gave her a pat down ... pair of mighty fine natural girls ... removed the handcuff key fron the chain around her neck ... chain too and the one from the anklet on her left ankle. I did NOT conduct a body cavity search ... no matter what SHE says.

I moseyed towards the leg in the bush ... noticed a seagull fly by with an eyeball and walked back to her.

Never leave a live wounded enemy behind you. They tend to heal. I read that somewhere ... good advice.

I didn’t.