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Friday, October 27, 2023

F³ Wrong Venue 36

             Nikki came in a Jaguar, a car I had always thought about wanting to drive, but there was no way on what I made. And while I was sure she would let me take the wheel, tonight, it was also the completely wrong car.

            “What’s this?” I asked, after opening the door. Or rather, I would have if my jaw hadn’t dropped at seeing her in a rhinestone-studded gown.

            “I should ask the same. Where is your tuxedo?”

            I squeezed my eyes shut to keep from rolling them. “Okay, clearly we’re miscommunicating on this. You think we should go back to the Club, presumably to search for whatever was dropped off.”

            “Correct,” she nodded.

            Her hair was perfectly style in long curls, and they bounced with unnatural springiness at her nod.

            “You know, I would love to do that, and especially I would love to dance with you dolled up like that, but that’s not the play.”

She compressed her lips to f a flat line that demanded explanation.

            “Right, so, we’d have to break into storage units or you’d have to find out who stashed what where in order to find out who got what and what’s in it. That’s a lot of haystacks for a few needles. If they got a shipment of something exotic from overseas, it likely came from the docks.” I pulled out my phone. “I’ve got a list of the ships that made port this week. We can check their docks and find the truck. If we’re lucky, we can even question the driver, and maybe even see what else the ship might be carrying. There’s a good chance that there will be other shipments off those boats that go to the club.”

            “I shall need to change.”

            “I’ll watch,” I quipped, grinning.

            Now she smirked. “We both know that I have invited you to do so before, but you adhere to some strange chivalric code that your detective heroes did not. But I encourage you to do so.”

            One of these days I’m going to learn not to spar with her like that.

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