Chapter 285: Dresses and Treaties

When I got my car home, I called Blevins. "Blevins I wanted to give you a heads up. Just in case I started a turf war by accident."

"What the fuck have you done now," he whispered into the phone.

"Some punk with a Latino accent pulled a piece on me. I took it away from him, that's all." I replied.

"Are you sure?" he said.

"I might have broken his leg while I was doing it. I'm sure he is not going to be happy about it. I didn't kill him though." I said.

"You might wish you had one day," Blevins said. "What did you do with the piece."

"It's in my gun vault, just in case I need a piece with somebody else's prints on it," I said only half kidding. "I'm kidding, but if the kid wants to file a report, I'll turn it over."

"If you turn it over now, we might match it so something open. If we put him away, it might prevent some future crime." Blevins said.

"It might also prove nothing and I would lose my hold over the him. Let's do it my way for now." I suggested.

"Hey you called on my cell phone, not the station's phone, so there is no tape of this call," he said.

"I knew that," I said with a laugh. I also knew he probably recorded all his cell phone calls and save one now and then.

"So what are you doing today, so I know where to look for the bodies?" he asked.

"I would never leave them just laying around, you know that. But for your information Jen and I are going shopping in about an hour. I'm going to buy a fancy dress for the Emmy Awards Banquet and Ceremony."

"That is so not like you," Blevins said.

"Hell, a woman never gets a chance to wear one of those dresses. I wanted to do it once in my life." I didn't tell him that I was doing it just as much to placate the farm boys, as I had begun to think of them in the plural sense.

After I broke the connection, I took a cup of coffee to the second floor and sat by the front window so that I could see the town traffic move along. I could also see directly into the windows of the second floor Drugstore Condo. Vlad and Anya seemed to be having lunch by their front window. The beauty of their space was that there were almost no interior walls. The front could be a sitting room, a dining room or even a bedrooms. It was just a matter of taste.

"The other windows were empty. Too bad none of them wanted to put on a show for me. I actually had seen Leon and the dancer screwing once. Fifty or sixty year olds doing the deed is not all that appealing. I wish I had learned to use that age regressive software they installed at the farm. I could have seen the younger versions of them going at it.

The sound of Mag 7 came from across the room, so I was forced to abandon my seat by the window and go find it I found it inside the small inexpensive antique leather purse. The one I sued to transport things from the car to the house. I also used it to transport things inside the bicycle basket.

"Hello Jen," I said. I knew it was her, since her picture was on the screen.

"I'm leaving the office. If you haven't already take a quick shower and change your drawers. We will be standing around in them, while being fitted, I'm sure." she said.

"Shit, why the hell did I let you talk me into this?" I asked.

"Because I know more than you do about this kind of thing," she said.

"Only because you read the trashy magazines," I said. After Jen hung up I did jump in the shower just in case I had picked up any dirt while disarming the gang banger. I also wanted to wash off any film I had picked up, which might leave a print. I just never knew when shit would happen to me.

I was just as much a shit magnet as a robo slut as I had been as a human slut. I think it had to do with my not looking like a bad ass. I looked like an easy victim on first glance. I guess I gave the same impression as the homeless man asleep in the stairwell. What I turned out to be, when you woke me, was more the psycho homeless man with a box opener.

I thought all that, while I took the quick wash off. When finished, I put on clean underwear and even clean jeans. I found a top that was going to be easy to get off. I wasn't dressed like a stripper, but I did dress with stripping in mind.

Jen actually beeper her horn when she pulled into the small back alley parking lot. "I am not your high school date," I said when I got into her big fancy German tank of a car.

"The hell you ain't honey," she said laughing.

"Okay, maybe your date, but this ain't high school." I said.

"I notice you are carrying a purse. I very seldom see you carrying a purse." she commented.

"I thought a shoulder holster might put off our designer," I suggested.

"Being with you without easy access to a weapon is like being in a car with a sign on it, 'Hit Me'," she said. "I'm a little concerned." She did laugh.

"We go places all the time where nothing happens," I said.

"Yes, but it's because you are always ready for it. It is like, if you don't carry a Kleenex your nose is going to run. If you pick a sore, it is not going to heal. We are asking for trouble, I'm just saying."

"Go to hell," I said taking the .38 out of the purse and laying it in my lap. "There feel better?"

I asked.

"Actually, I do." There was no humor in her voice.

"I'll put it in my waist band, when we get out of the car. I'll return it to the purse when we get inside. Is that okay with you?" I asked sarcastically.

"It will have to do," Jen said. "The Admiral always said, 'If you want to live a long time, stick to Maxine like the tail on a dog. I take his advice very seriously."

"I'm flattered, but he didn't mean that for a trip to a dress designer." I said.