Close Call

Close Call     

            The woman sat down at the stool next to mine. The move was so quick I nearly missed it. I did however see her and took the next few moments to check out her figure and the little black dress she was wearing. It was a great combo. At that point she could sit there. I didn’t mind at all.
            Her blonde hair and blue eyes were a match from heaven. That was great, but not what I dwelling on. She was looking at me with surprising intensity. I returned a look of my own, all the while wondering if she was trying bore deep into my skull, survey my brain and pull out something that interested her.
            After a moment she bluntly said, “I know your secret.”
            I took my eyes off the woman just long enough to look around the dimly lit and smoky bar. Were any of the bar’s patrons within earshot? None were and even if they had been the metal band’s amped up music would have overpowered the blonde’s voice.
        I asked. “And what secret is that?”
         She made a point to lean in close before saying, “that you killed my brother.”
         “And you plan on killing me?” I asked, referring to the pistol now resting just below my ribs.
         “No.” Was that a wicked little grin growing on her lips? “He was a jackass and I just wanted to thank you.”
         Thank me? That was a new one. I could not recall anyone thanking me for a violent act before. She must have really hated her brother. Either that or it set her up for a hefty inheritance.
         “The gun?”
         “A precaution,” was her reply as she slipped the thing back into her purse. “One never knows what’s going to happen.”
         She stood up, flashed me a smile and headed for the door. I watched this with interest, shaking my head in disbelief. As strange run-ins go, this one ranked right at the top.
         Damn, I thought, I really need to kill drunken muggers more often.