When I arrived back at my hotel, my diminishing enthusiasm for Jamaican nightlife lifted when I found the bar open. I heard music coming from the space at the back of the lounge; a late-night group of chics were shaping the dancefloor with a splattering of hotel guests. The silhouettes swayed in the soft red light.

Despite my promise to Dizzy, to stay clean, I needed alcohol and lots of it; the trouble on the street had taken its toll, and my jangled nerves screamed for self-medication.

"What'll it be, Mike? Usual?"

"Yes, please, buddy, make it a double, and get one for yourself."

Sitting on a barstool, I quickly downed my shot of rum; the warm liquid easing my scrambled mind.

I hurriedly lined up a second when a dame appeared out of the shadows. I was a little surprised when she headed my way. I wasn't exactly putting out the welcome mat. Her face was like she'd gone a round or two with Muhammad Ali, but the rest of her stacked up really well. I recognized her as she approached. She was in the photo with Jade and the Latino guys. She wasn't your regular type of hustler either; she was more up-market than the other whores I'd met recently. I laughed to myself when I saw her innocent smile. Like, butter wouldn't melt between her thighs.

"Want some company, babe?" she huskily sighed in that filthy way.

"Sure!" I said, "knock yourself out."

I'd sussed her. It wasn't hard; a freelance hooker is still a hooker. She slid onto the stool next to mine. Her strong perfume smacked my senses, thick and sickly.

"You look like a nice guy – I've got an insight into these things." She raised her eyebrows at the barman, and a vodka martini appeared like magic. "It's usually fifteen dollars for a blow and thirty for the whole works, but a cute guy like you gets a twenty-dollar special." She chinked her glass against mine, "Here's to us, sugar."

Her cold blue eyes, the colour of the Jamaican skies twinkled with mischief. And man, she had a lot of mischief going on. When she crossed her legs her skirt rode higher than the golden gate bridge. She was pushy too; in the way that bad girls usually are. I pulled out a twenty; Jades covering my expenses after all. "What's your name, honey?"

"You can call me Roxy." She smiled, tucking the money inside the top of her bra. "Let's go to your room, shall we?"

"No. let's not?" I replied without moving. I had to admit. I was tempted; but right now, I fancied the taste of alcohol more than the taste of pussy. "Is it okay if we chat for a while? Maybe have a couple of drinks?"

"Sure babe. But I got-ta-tell-ya, the boyfriend experience runs a little more expensive. Another twenty should cover it. I'll sleep over for an extra ten?"

This chic had more tricks than a circus pony and was hotter than a wrestler's jockstrap. To misquote Bogart: She had stuff that dreams were, made of - wet ones. I laid another ten on the bar.

"Let's see how the night progresses, shall we?"

She smiled and slipped the bill into her heaving cleavage, where Mr Hamilton joined Mr Franklin. I could have sworn I saw a smile on the old President's face. Roxy lifted her hair out of the way and tucked her face into my neck.

"I saw you on the street a short while ago," she whispered, her breath tickling the hairs on my neck. "You were very impressive; I like tough guys. Those poor boys didn't stand a chance." Her hand slipped along my thigh, the tips of her fingers making contact with the goods. "You know they work for Jade Chung, right? – Then again, we all work for Jade Chung in one way or another; Including you, I understand."

I angrily pushed her hand away and stared into her face. She instantly knew; she had crossed the line. Smoothing down her skirt, she casually tried to back away, but I quickly grabbed her wrist, and she lost her confident smile. Unconsciously, she fingered the swelling over her right eye.

"Don't worry babe. I don't hit women, that's not my style," I said, pulling her back onto the bar stool. "But if your intention is to blackmail me, I'd think again if I was you. You'd be better off selling your tail. I reckon you're really good at that."

A pout appeared on her face. Like a lot of broads, she's big on pouting. Then she spits her reply into my face. "You got me all wrong Mister Mace. I'm just trying to earn a bit of money that's all. If you don't want the best fuck you've ever had, that's your choice honey!"

She snatched her arm away with deceptive power and quickly disappeared into the shadows. I couldn't be bothered to chase after her. I'd had enough shit for one night. After another drink, I realized we'd barely said two words to each other, but somehow, she knew my name. Something stinks in this town and I reckon the smell leads all the way back to Chinatown.

+++

I heard a gentle tapping on my door, had room service organised another bottle of rum? or was I dreaming? I looked at my watch. 7.25 am. Wow! a half-bottle of rum certainly makes for a good sedative. The next knock on the door was a little more insistent, and I pull Misters Smith and Wesson from under my pillow and check the peephole.

What the fuck! I said to myself. Opening the door, I step back; I guess wearing just my underwear won't matter much to this guest.

She glided in, looking like an everyday chic. The big hair and glossed lips had disappeared. Instead, her hair was pulled into a ponytail, and the red skirt and satin blouse was replaced with jeans, sunglasses, and a tight white T.

"Are you stalking me, Roxy? Or offering me a refund on the best fuck I never had?"  

She completely ignored my attempt at humour.

"Mike, I need your help... I think I've killed someone."

I laughed, thinking it was a joke, even after I'd seen the panic in her eyes. "In my experience, killing is pretty much an absolute – either you have, or you haven't killed someone?"

She bit hard on my sarcastic words. "Fuck you! Of all people, you should know that's not always the truth," She points at my gun. "I don't think you need that unless you intend to shoot me in the leg too."

Why do I always end up arguing with angry women? Maybe, I have a disease? Bad-chic-osis.

I laid the gun on my bedside table but kept it within arms reach. She sat on my bed looking vulnerable and sexy, and I couldn't help wondering what she'd look like naked. A lot better than most, I imagined.

"Okay, spill the beans, babe; tell me all about it,"

"After I left you at the hotel bar, I went to my apartment, and Leroy turned up. I didn't want to let him in, but he kept kicking at the door, harder and harder until - well, you get the picture. He was stoned, as usual, and we got into a fight. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. The next thing I know, I'm waking up with a banging head, and there's a pool of blood on the floor, and Leroys got a gaping hole in his neck."

She was pleading to be understood, but I wasn't taken in by her helpless female act; her voice made all the right noises – but after last night in the bar, I had no reason to trust her.

"And Leroy is?"

"He works for Jade, sometimes we are a couple, and sometimes we aren't if you get what I mean?"

I knew what she meant; she could have been singing from my hymn sheet. I thought I was Christi Powell's man, but I had royally fucked that one up. I looked into Roxy's face. I wanted to believe her, but she didn't make it easy, she had a liar stamped on her forehead.

"And your hasty retreat brought you straight to my door? Why's that, babe?"

"Well, I walked around the streets trying to clear my head, and then I just ended up here."

"Look, I'm going to be straight with you. I'm not buying any of this bullshit! It all sounds a bit too convenient for my liking – last night, you couldn't get away from me quick enough, and now you want my help!"

"I know it sounds bad, but I didn't have anywhere else to go. I ain't got a lot of friends in Jamaica, and I need to get away; I reckon we could help each other; we are both up to our necks in…."

"Jesus! Are you insane? Help each other? I barely know you. Look, sister! You've got blood on your hands – literally." I nodded towards her blood-stained fingers. "You don't need a detective. You need a fucking priest."

I could see the anger building on her face, and it was good. At least it was real emotion.

"Look, Mike. Without trying to make this too fucking obvious, I reckon it'll be a while before the body is found. And guess what? The local feds are a little busy, round-about now; looking for some white man; who blew a hole in a black guy's leg. That ring any bells with you?"

I didn't need reminding I'd fucked up last night. This bitch was as feisty as hell, which strangely, makes her even sexier in my eyes.

She walked towards the window and lifted the drapes as if she expected to see somebody outside. Then she turned and said, "The thing is, Mike, I don't care if you believe me or not, but I have to tell you; the dead guy at my apartment has been telling anyone who cared to listen that he threw an American guy out of his bar a couple of days ago because he was drunk and carrying a gun. Now, I reckon the feds would want to interview that American guy. Don't you?"

For a second, I didn't get the implication. Then the realisation hit me like a hammer. "You mean the barman at the Cheetah is the dead guy in your apartment?"

Her slow nod tells me, all I needed to know. "Oh shit!" This changed things, and not in a good way. "So, why'd you kill him?"

She didn't say anything – she didn't have to. She lifted her sunglasses, and her beaten face said it all.

"Mike, there's a ferry leaving in about two hours for the Florida Keys, it's a long haul by boat, but they won't be, expecting us to travel that route. But first I need to go to my apartment to get my stuff. Would you come with me – I don't fancy being alone with his body."

"Woo, slow down there, sister! There is no us, okay! – I don't need your help, and I certainly don't need a boat to get back home. I've got an American passport and an open ticket; I can get a flight out of here anytime I want."

"Really?... Well, good luck with that, Mike. For a detective, you're not so smart, are you?... Where are the cops going to be hanging out if they want to stop their prime suspect from leaving Jamaica?"

The arrogance of this doll was starting to piss me off, but she was right. The airport would be crawling with cops. I guess it didn't matter how I got back to the States. Just as long as I got out of this fucking place.

+++

I sent her on ahead; I didn't want to be seen, with miss goldilocks. I told her to keep to the side streets and that I'd meet her at her apartment in twenty minutes. I quickly showered and got dressed before I holstered my gun, and packed a bag.

I walked past the front desk on the way out of the hotel, when the receptionist called me over. I expected him to say something about having a hooker in my room.

"Excuse me, Mister Mace? A fax arrived for you late last night from America."

He handed me the folded sheet, and I read it as I stepped into the morning sunlight. 'Hey, Boss. I rang the hotel at midnight, but you weren't around. Enjoying the nightlife, I guess. One of my scouts found out that a girl matching Lu's description was seen in Chinatown about five months ago, having lunch with N.G. I bet that made for an interesting meal.

I read it twice more and slipped the fax into my jacket pocket. I found Roxy, or whatever her real name was, waiting by the elevator. The fax from Dizzy was happily bouncing around my head when another bit of luck caught my eye. Things were starting to swing in my favour at long last.

When we arrived at her fourteenth-floor apartment, her hands were trembling like mad. It was hard to tell if it was fear or just plain old bullshit. She looked at me nervously when she couldn’t get the key in the lock.

"Do you want me to open the door and go in first?" I said, which is just what she wanted me to say, I guess.

She nodded; I pulled my gun and puffed out my cheeks, "Wait here, okay."

I slowly crept along the hall. A few minutes later, I walked back with a confused frown.

“What? – What’s the matter?” she asked.

"You better hold onto your pearls sister…There's no dead body, and there's no sign of any blood either?"

"No…You're wrong!… there must be. I saw Leroy lying there!" She barged past me throwing her purse on the hall stand, and headed for the kitchen. She ran from room to room; as if somehow I had missed seeing a three-hundred-pound, dead man.

"I don't know what's happening, Mike. I swear to God he was there."

I wanted to believe her, but this chic's got more sides than a Rubik's cube, and every side, was wrong. "The problem is honey… there are too many unanswered questions in the air, and unfortunately, you're right in the middle of all this crap."

She does her well-polished angry face again. I was starting to feel sorry for her boyfriend. I think; I would have preferred to be dead too; being her boyfriend. "What are you going to do, Mike? Feed me to the Feds?"

I shake my head, "Nah – that's not how I work. Besides, what will I tell them? 'Well, officer, there was a dead body, but now, it's disappeared.'  They already want me for shooting a guy! Without adding insanity to my rap sheet…Look, sister, we should get on the ferry as planned. I know I could certainly do with a change of scenery. You grab a shower, wash away the blood, then get your shit together, and we’ll take it from there.”

I needed some time alone to think; this babe is halfway crazy but as sexy as hell. I couldn’t make up my mind if I wanted to fuck her or shoot her.

 +++

I checked out the kitchen; it smelt of bleach and was too clean. If she had stabbed the guy, there would have been blood splatters all over the place. The walls and surfaces were spotless. Whoever had done the job in the kitchen was a real pro, I had seen enough cleaned-up murder scenes to know. I also know people make mistakes.

I checked the walls and the floor; no blood. Except there was a small dark stain under a cupboard base plate. I opened the drawers, looking for a screwdriver to remove the kickboard; amongst the cutlery, I saw something familiar; my third break in an hour. At last, things were starting to go my way.

I walked back into the hall and saw her purse on the hallstand. I sneaked a look inside.  There was a healthy amount of cash and a passport too. If the passport was legit, her name was Kim Kowalski. I flipped through the pages. There were plenty of entry stamps from Texas immigration and even more from Florida, Jamaica, and Cuba.

For a local hooker, this chic's travelled around the Gulf of Mexico a hell of a lot.

A few moments later, she walks back from the bathroom looking fabulous in a dark green skin-tight trouser suit. She could turn heads at the Beverly Wilshire and probably has on many occasions.

I pointed to the kitchen. "Look, we got a little time to spare before the ferry leaves, and the less time we're on the street, the better."

She quietly nodded and grabbed a seat at the table. Looking up at the kitchen clock, she lights a cigarette.

I sat across from her; instinct told me she was ready to do some talking. "I hope you're in a chatty mood; I'm desperate for help here… I want to believe you about the body, by the way. There's a small trace of blood in the kitchen, and it's pretty fresh.”

Her eyes flashed with seduction, she's really clever at that. “Thanks, Mike. I thought I was going mad.”

I changed tack quickly, trying to unsettle her. I didn't want her queueing up her answers, like before. "Can I ask you what your real name is? I can't keep calling you Roxy."

"Kate – Kate Mathews," she smiles and plays with the zipper at the front of her jumpsuit, revealing the perfect amount of cleavage with just a hint of nipple. It's as if she's reminding me that the zip goes down to her pussy. Just in case I hadn't noticed, which of course I had,

"I know whatcha thinking; makes me sound like a shopkeeper's wife… right?"

I return her smile. She’s a crap liar but hotter than a Brooklyn Rolex.

"Yeh, I guess so. Not a hooker's name, that's for sure."

“To be honest, I’m really not much of a hooker; I fall in love too easily. When I get home to America, I might buy a little clothes shop and get myself a cute assistant too. I seriously need a career change."

I wanted to say something about the oldest profession in the world but decided against it. “And what about Leroy – what’s the score with him?”

For an ex-girlfriend, her expression doesn't change at the mention of his name. I have a feeling that wasn’t the first dead body she’d ever seen.

"He started working for Jade about eighteen months ago, ran the bar, and locked up when Jade wasn't around. He looked after the hookers too and kept them safe. All the girls liked him at first. Then six months ago, he started doing brown sugar, and he changed – he became violent and always needed more money to feed his habit. Jade fell out with him. She reckoned he was going back to the bar after closing time and helping himself to the cash. She asked me to keep an eye on him. That's when I saw you outside the bar." I nodded, it would explain Jade's missing money.

I wanted to keep her talking, so I pulled out the flick knife I'd found in the kitchen drawer and released the blade. I placed it on the table in front of her. "Have you ever seen this before?"

She shook her head, “Nah… never.”

"Are you sure; pick it up; take a good look."

She picked up the blade; and uncomfortably slid the handle into her other hand.

"Is this important?" she said.

I watched her; she had an awkward grip and wasn't used to holding a knife. 

"It's not important to me, but it might throw some light on a very dark situation. I found it in your kitchen drawer; it's not the kind of knife you'd use for preparing food; is it?"

Her hand starts to shake again, and she drops the knife back on the table. "My god, is this the knife that killed Leroy?"

Oh, she's good - 'And the winner for best actress in a crime thriller goes to…’

I changed direction again. "How long have you known Jade?"

Her face tells me she's glad to change the subject, "Well, we've been friends for nearly twenty years; we met at a high school in Frisco, Jade arrived from China with her dad; her father isn't a nice guy – do you know him?"

I lied and shook my head.

"You don't want to, either! My background was the same as Jade's. My dad had beaten my mum to death and was serving time; we had a lot in common; we were close – real close. As soon as we graduated, we ran away from home. Jade had squirrelled a bit of dirty money away. We worked the streets and set ourselves up as escorts. Jade never had trouble attracting the guys, if you know what I mean?"

She waited, for a moment, hoping I'd say something, to relieve the pressure on her; but this was my show, and I wasn't about to let her off the hook that easy. For a second or two, her face took on that angry look, that was hard to ignore. Was she capable of murder? You bet your ass she was.

Then, just as quickly, her composure returned. "Jade started making friends with some important guys, soon we were employing more and more girls. The trouble was, I was never good at choosing men, always ended up with the shit ones. Jade looked out for me and bailed me out a few times; then, one day, we had to move quickly. She'd pissed off the wrong people. I don't know what happened, but her dad was involved, and he's not someone, you fuck with.”

She checked the clock; her eyes danced around the room. She was buzzed up. I'd met enough cokeheads in my line of work to know one when I saw one.

"We went to Texas for a while and then onto Cuba; not a great place for Americans around that time, so we ended up here, in Jamaica, and opened a bar… for, a few years, it was perfect, we made plenty of dough, and we had a good time. Whilst we were in Texas, Jade met some high roller and fell for him big-time, she and the guy formed a partnership; running drugs from Colombia to Jamaica,  then on to Texas; he opened loads of doors for her, and she made some big money.

“What’s his name, this guy?”

She checked out the clock again. "I don't remember - Jade reckoned he was cheating on her, and she blew him off. I didn't get involved in the heavy stuff; too dangerous for my liking, I kept out of it, stayed in Jamaica."

I thought about all those stamps in her passport and smiled; this chic could lie smoother than a British politician.

"Sounds like Jade had it all worked out?"

She nodded, "Yes, she loved the money and the power; she's good at it too; then one day, some Asian chic turned up out-of-the-blue, seventeen years old – mixed race, and everything changed. Jade wanted out; said she was selling the business and going clean; she'd invested in some beach house, and talked about turning it into a hotel."

Her eyes checked the hands on the clock for the umpteenth time. There was something about that clock that had her panties in a twist.

"Most people liked the new girl," she continued, "someone said they were half-sisters. Jade was suspicious at first; she always thought her mum had been killed by her dad, but this kid had loads of letters and a whole heap of photos. Jade made her do some blood test thing, it seemed to confirm what the kid was saying. That's about all I know."

I watched her closely as she tried hard to keep her composure; it was obvious that she didn't like the new kid, maybe some jealousy thing; however, I pretty much knew at that moment; she couldn't control her temper and was capable of anything, but somehow my gut-feeling told me she was no murderer.

“And where’s Jade's mum now?”

“Jade said she died about six months before the kid turned up.”

"Okay, I've got one last question – do you know the real reason why Jade hired me?"

She moved in her chair and played with her pack of smokes. "Can we make a move now, please? I'd feel happier if we were away from here, what with the feds and all."

I nodded, but I think I already knew the answer to my question. It was never about the missing money or the missing girl; it was about me in some way or another.

We left the apartment separately; there was less chance of being picked up if we went solo. We agreed to keep our distance on the ferry until we reached the Keys. That was going to be surprisingly easy with such a large crowd of passengers. Once on board, I watched her disappear amongst the other travellers heading for the cafe and the cabins, and I quickly double-backed. I told the loading guy I had accidentally left my wallet at the ticket office.

Leaving the dock, I walked back to Kim's apartment block. Something had spooked her, and it wasn't just the drugs or the knife. She was scared of something or someone? And I think I knew what. I got in the elevator and pressed the button for the penthouse.

 +++

A young woman answered the door, and I pushed my way in. She looked like a pale China doll, but it would be a mistake to think she was delicate. I'd seen that angry look before, in Chinatown.

"Who the fuck are you?" she said.

“Let’s just say I’m not here delivering pizza – where’s Jade?”

"Who's Jade?"

"Forget the crap, we both know who she is, and I'm guessing you are Lu? You're supposed to be a missing person, but it looks like; I've found you – Clever old me, ay!"

Jade arrived in the hallway and didn't look happy. "It's okay, Lu – I'll sort this out. Just go to your room, please."

The young'un stood her ground with her hands on her hips. She'd certainly inherited the Chinese family attitude, and she obviously didn't like Jade telling her what to do.

Jade walked over and gently touched her face. "This guy isn't going to hurt us, babe; he's just come for a chat." She turned and looked at me. "Isn't that right, Mike?"

Lu looked towards me; her hard eyes softened a little, and she smiled as if she knew me. That made me feel uncomfortable; because somehow, I thought I knew her too.

"Would you mind leaving us for a moment, Mike?"

I was more than happy to get out of the way, I didn't fancy; being stuck between these two in a family catfight. I quietly made my way along the hallway into a beautiful sitting room.

A warm breeze drifted in through the open doors that led out onto an overhanging glass balcony. The views over the bay were stunning. It was hard to tell where the turquoise sky ended and the sea began.

The sound of a door slamming from down the hall broke my peaceful dream, and I turned to see Jade walking into the room, the anger on her face was unmistakable.

“Great pad – Who says crime doesn’t pay?”

"Great to see you too, Mike," her sarcasm jabbed against my words. "What are you doing here? I thought you were on a ferry to the States?"

I gave her a false laugh and shook my head, "Tut-tut, Miss Chung – bugging your best friend's apartment, that's not nice. I'm guessing the device was hidden behind the kitchen clock – nice touch."

"Has anyone ever told you, that you're too clever for your own good, Mike?"

Menace punctuates her soft voice as she slowly walks past me, her deliciously familiar scent pricking at my desire, sending flashes of her naked body into my mind. "I wonder if anyone can be too clever, around you?"

"Look, Kim needed that bug – a need, like she needed her drugs.  Just as well too. I'd managed to clean up her mess – yet again!"

"Did you kill Leroy?"

"Oh! – Leroy, is dead? – Such a shame," her sarcasm kept coming in her full terror mode, "Listen, one day, I'll tell you all about the deceitful Kim Kowalski. A woman who introduced me to the disgusting world of prostitution and drug smuggling; a person prepared to kill to get her own way; and a woman who uses lies and sex to get whatever she wants. But for now, I'd like to change the subject. Let's talk about why you're here, shall we."

“I thought you and Kim were best buddies?” I replied, ignoring her request.

"Buddies might be overstating our friendship; true, I probably owe her my life; when she got me away from the ugly grip of my father and helped me stand on my own two feet. The trouble is, I've been paying her back ever since – and yes, I do know she tried to get to you with her fake hooker routine. She didn't like the fact, you turned her down, by the way."

“She told you about that?”

"She didn't have to; one of my girls saw you in the hotel last night. Kim was hoping, to make me jealous, but that didn't work out too well for her either."

"Jealous? I don't understand; why would you be jealous?"

She slowly shakes her head, "You don't get it, do you; believe it or not, I quite like you; but it was my fault. I shouldn't have lied to you about Lu, and I should have told you how I felt about you from the get-go, then maybe? Who knows what may have happened?" She held her hands out in a gesture of innocence. "Truth is, you confused me; I don't expect you to understand, and I barely understand it myself, but I really like you, and I certainly didn't expect to find you so… attractive."

I turned my face and tried to ignore her, which wasn't easy. She turned me on big-time, but I wasn't about to get caught in her spider's web of lies; again!

"But you were so cold after we made love," I said; under my breath.

“You don’t trust me? I get that, and I’m not surprised. I was a fool.”

She was trying to get into my head again; only this time, I was better prepared. I took the knife from my pocket and passed it to her.

"By the way, your clean-up guy forgot this. It belongs to you, doesn't it; dragon head handle; matches your letter opener! - If I was a cop, I might put two and two together and make - an arrest."

"Well, according to you, us Asian girls always carry a knife; although you were wrong last time, I seem to remember."

I pictured her naked, riding my cock, and I sensed my balls tightening. Was I horny? or just plain afraid?

"Why don't you take a seat, Mike? I'm going to have a whiskey; won't you join me?... Of course, you will; it's never too early for you, is it." This babe didn't need a blade; her tongue was more than sharp enough. I watched her with the knife sitting comfortably in her right hand.

She watched me looking and placed it on the arm of the sofa and walked across the room. Her ass makes for the perfect distraction; even in sweatpants, she was hotter than the gates of hades.

My desire for her was oblivious to the fear I had inside. My heart jumped when I thought of her in my arms, but I also had a sense of danger that choked my desire. I don't know how not to want her, so I fabricate reasons why I shouldn't.

The main reason is that I knew, at that very moment, she had killed Leroy.

+++

She passes me the whiskey; the heavy crystal glass makes a satisfying ring, "Cheers!" I say, after swallowing a large mouthful. "Why did you try to implicate your father in all this bullshit?" I ask.

She smiled invitingly. "Good question… There was some hope you'd slide a big stick into my father's disgusting nest of vipers and give it a good stir. In case you haven't heard, I am negotiating a huge deal, and he keeps pulling my chain; We don't have a regular family relationship. But, of course, you were too smart to be manipulated like that.

"Oh, I'm not so smart," I say, returning her sexy smile, "If I were that clever, I wouldn't be here with you. I'd be on my way back to the states.  But, that's not the real reason you hired me; is it Jade? You could get any shmuck with a death wish to fuck with your father and his cronies.”

She shrugged her shoulders and faked a sulk. I had so many questions rolling around in my fucked-up brain, but there was one at the very top of my list. “Talking of cronies what’s the score with you and Ralph Lazario?”

She looks at me and smiles, "Are you jealous Mike – how cute; despite what Kim has told you, Ralph and I were never really an item, we fucked a couple of times after we'd drunk too much champagne, but that was it. There was always someone else he preferred," her face took on a distant look I'd never seen before, "In a few hours' time, his girlfriend will be arriving in Florida."

“You mean…?”

She nodded, and I saw a change in her eyes. "Kim always wants what other people have got, and she normally gets it too. Look, Mike, I wasn't going to tell you any of this, but somehow, you've got under my skin, and for some strange reason, that seems to matter to me now. What I'm about to tell you must stay in this room, okay?"

She was right, I didn't trust her, and yes, I was jealous.

+++

"Do you know what DNA is, Mike?"

“Sure, it’s part of the body that makes us what we are.”

“Pretty good... and if I wanted to find out if I was related to someone, I could test our DNA, right?”

"Yes – Maybe to find out if Lu really is, your sister?"

"Oh, Mike, you're good. I wish I'd known that before I rang you a week ago – So, let's pretend I wanted to find out if George really is my father; how would I go about that?"

“I guess you’d get some of George’s blood and test it against yours.”

She nods and smiles, "Of course you're right, but getting my dad's blood… That may not be easy?"

"Yes, I guess you're right." I take another gulp of the amber liquid.

"And what about if I wanted to test your DNA?"

"Well, I don't give out my blood freely either; in my case, it's mainly alcohol anyway,"

"That's true, Mike; what about some other way, like maybe, your semen, for example."

"I'm confused; why would you want to do that?"

She stands and nervously walks around the room for a while, "Okay, here goes. Lu's name contains three of your old army numbers - right?" I don’t reply and shrug my shoulders and look into her eyes. She laughs and shakes her head, "you've already worked out some of this, haven't you?"

"Well, not for certain, but when I saw Lu, I saw her mother, and I guessed."

"You're right, of course, and there's no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to blurt it out; I took your semen from the condom when we; well, you know what we did."

“Are you saying you fucked me for a paternity test?”

"No…well… that was my original intention, yes, but the more we got to know each other, the more I was attracted to you… Look, I'm not proud of what I did."

My fury exploded in an uncontrollable rush of angry words, "So, I imagined we had something, but it was all bullshit! You are unbelievable; you never really wanted me: And you're keeping Lu prisoner here; because, like everything, it's all about what Jade wants, and fuck the rest of us; you're capable of anything, and that includes, killing, I imagine. Here's something for you; Do you know Lu was working for your father?"

Her hard eyes filled with fire, and I knew, in that split-second, she didn't know about Lu's betrayal, and I also knew; she would never let me be Lu's father. 

Everything, at that moment, happened; in slow motion, as if I was watching myself in a movie.

The knife was suddenly in her hand – The blade moved like lightning across my eyes – Her voice screamed through my brain – "I won't let you send me to prison; Lu is mine not yours; I'll kill you before I give her up!"

A red stain pooled against the collar of my white shirt – She crouched above me like a coiled snake ready to strike again – A young woman's scream powered past my eyes – A dining chair smashed into Jade's face; then, she was holding her blooded head; she staggered through the open door – Her feet slipping on the glass - A scream, as she fell over the balcony rail.

The metallic taste bubbled in my throat and exploded from my mouth; the mixture of conscious pain and awful blackness; then nothing.

+++

Not much; in my life surprised me anymore, but waking up in a hospital, a couple of days after a six-hour operation on my throat and finding Noodle George standing at the end of my hospital bed was a major bombshell.

He smiled in that menacing way, he was famous for; and sat in a chair by the side of my bed. He wanted me to be scared, but I wasn’t, and I could see he didn't like that; was it possibly the morphine? Or maybe, I just didn't care anymore; cheating death will do that to you.

“Good afternoon, Mister Mace,” twenty-five years in America hadn’t eroded his strong Chinese accent, “I don’t think I need to introduce myself, do I?"

He raised his hand, palm out, "Please don’t try to talk; the doctors say you need to rest your vocal cords, which might be difficult for an arrogant fuckwit like yourself! I have to tell you Mister Mace; I didn't want to visit you, I don't even like you; you've cost me a lot of time, money, and pain; but someone we both know made me come and visit you."

His ugly arthritic fingers gripped the side of my bed, and he leaned in closer, "I must congratulate you on finding your daughter; you are a lucky man; she is a very persuasive young woman. I suspect she takes after her mother. I had a daughter once, but I made many mistakes, and I lost her when she was a similar age to Lu, and now I won’t ever see her again. I don't blame you, I blame myself. But, don't make the same mistakes as me; look after your daughter. And if I find out you have hurt her in any way, there will be consequences. I hope I make myself clear.”

He rose awkwardly from his chair and slid a dragon-headed knife under my pillow. "Give this to Lu, Mister Mace; she’ll know what it means.” Then he was gone, just as silently as he had arrived.

+++

Dizzy and Lu arrived later that day, carrying plastic cups of hospital coffee.

“Oh, you’re awake, boss,” smiled Dizzy, “the doctors say you’ll have trouble talking for a while, so every cloud has a silver lining, as they say.” Her thunderous laughter bounced off the hospital walls; I noticed small tears gathering in her painted eyes, which she wiped away quickly when she saw me looking, "Nah, don’t kid yourself, inch-dick, I’m not crying for you, I'm coming down with a cold, that's all." She walked over to Lu and gave her a hug.

When did these two become buddies? Dizzy saw my confused face and smiled, “I’ll tell you later boss, why don’t I leave you two alone for a while, I reckon you’ve got loads to talk about; Only you’re not allowed to talk boss, are you? Which must be a real touch for the nurses. There's a pen and a notepad on the side, and don't forget, I'm pissed at you for nearly getting yourself killed." 

I nodded my head and smiled, it was so good to see her again.

Lu seemed nervous around me at first, so I took my notepad and wrote, Hi.  She smiled a ‘Hi’ in return and touched my hand.

We shared a dark secret that bonded us, and after George's visit, I reckoned it would be forever.

For the next hour, she talked about that awful day; she had called George straight after Jade had gone over the balcony, and he told her to pack my neck, with a clean towel; fifteen minutes later, an out-of-breath local doctor arrived. He patched me up as best he could, and within three hours, we were on a private jet heading to Frisco and a private room in UCSF.

According to the Jamaican police, they believed Jade Chung had committed suicide after accidentally killing her lover, Leroy Brown. Although his remains were never found, a suicide note was, handwritten in Mandarin. 

Two days later, U.S. Immigration explained that Kim Kowalski had left Jamaica on a ferry at 11:00 but never arrived in Florida with the rest of the passengers; as a known friend of Jade Chung, Jamaican Police wanted to speak to her, but it seems, she had disappeared.

I wasn't surprised. It was obvious that the corrupt and wealthy fingers of Noodle George and his triad friends had stretched far and wide, and thank god they had; otherwise, I may not be here, holding my daughter's hand. I passed her the knife from under my pillow; she didn't say a word; and slipped it into her purse. I decided against the Father and Daughter, 'Do you know what you're getting yourself into?' speech.

There's a saying, isn't there; that says something like, 'You can choose your friends, but you can't choose your family.' I've never had to choose before! I hope one day I'll be a good father.

Epilogue

She opens her piercing blue eyes; as I study her face, "Morning, Mike."

"Morning, gorgeous."

"Mm," She gives me a sleepy smile and snuggles closer, "I've missed you, babe. I love waking up next to you.”

"I missed you too, beautiful.”

She rubbed her breast against my arm, "Such a honey tongue – How'd you sleep?"

"Just fine - and you?"

"Me too, it must have been all that exercise!" Her soft giggle fills the delicious space between us.

I closed my eyes as I felt her fingers slide down my stubbled chin to touch the swollen scar on my neck, "are you really okay? everyone keeps asking me, they say you were lucky to be alive.”

"I'm good babe, just another scar to add to my ever-increasing collection,  besides, I don't believe in luck! Maybe it was just the thought of being here with you that kept me going?”

She purred excitedly, her soft fingers walking down my body and wrapped around my hardening dick. "I've got to say, Mike; everything seems to be in good working order."

Twenty minutes later, she's naked and sitting up in bed; her back against the headboard, a sheet pooling around her waist. Her beautifully tussled blonde hair hung over one shoulder, covering a delicious rose-tipped nipple.

I want to lick it again, but I know the consequences if I do; there will be hell to pay from Dizzy and Lu if I’m late for work, again.

After pulling on my shoulder holster, I lift the pillow on the side of the bed and take out my gun.

She gives a pout. "Was that there all night?"

"It's my security, babe. Do you know how many people would prefer it if I was dead? That's the problem of knowing too many secrets." She tongues her full lips and ignores me.

Christi hates my job, and would much prefer it if I worked in an office, like an accountant or something. In some ways, I guess I am; I'm good at turning red, into black.

Her eyes never leave the pistol. "Can I hold it?"

"It's a gun, babe; it might go off in your pretty face."

"And your dick won't?" She giggles in the way that I adore.

 Making sure the safety is on, I hand her the pistol. Some dolls, and quite a few guys, for that matter, seem to get a thrill from holding a gun; you don't have to be a head shrink to figure out why.

"Look, I got to go soon babe…it's going to be a busy day," I gently take back my gun. "I'm meeting a new client this morning, and Dizzy is having coffee with Benni Diamond."

"Benni - really? I can't imagine him being her type."

I raise my hands in submission, “Fuck knows babe, she said something about swapping fashion tips?”

She smiles sweetly and kisses me on the cheek, "You live in a strange world, Mike…Don't forget tonight; you and Lu are coming to watch me sing."

I nod and smile, "I won't forget, gorgeous."

"Shall we have dinner after the show? Whatcha, you fancy?" 

"I'm easy, babe... but please! No more Chinese."