Biting Nixie by Mary Hughes

Get Elena and Nixie out of here. I’ll clean up.” Julian jerked a hand toward where Elena and I stood.
    I didn’t want to go. I wanted to figure out what the hell had just happened. And find out if Julian had been hurt.
    And comfort him if he had.
    All right, probably a bad idea. But the body—the possibly headless body—of the gang leader looked big and fierce on the ground. Julian was a lawyer . A desk jockey. For whatever insane reason, I had to know if he was okay. “Emerson?” I reached out to touch him. “Julian?”
    Julian turned so I couldn’t see his face. “Go with Strongwell, Nixie. You’ll be safe with him.”
    â€œBut what about you?”
    â€œ Go .” His voice was strange, hollow. And though I don’t follow anyone’s orders, I found my feet moving.
    I had gone half a block before I realized what I was doing. “The fuck!” I dug in my heels and spun.
    Julian and the body were gone.

Chapter Five
    â€œSo all I have to do is pick some pretty women and have them to dress up in bikinis?” Detective Dirk Ruffles’s muddy eyes brightened. “And pick some judges? That sounds easy. Not nearly as hard as being a detective. I know who I’ll ask to judge. I bet my uncle’d do it. He likes pretty women, almost as much as I do. I bet he’d say yes. My uncle, and maybe Captain Titus. Or maybe not Captain Titus since Elena found out he’s a pimp, which means he’s manager to a group of prostitutes—”
    â€œDirk! Heel!” Elena snapped her fingers in front of her partner’s face, stopping the inexhaustible flow.
    For about two seconds. Or maybe Dirk was just taking a breath before launching back in. “I was just saying, Detective Ma’am. My uncle the Chief of Police would be good as a judge.”
    I stepped in. “Your uncle would be great, Dirk. And the women are already expecting the swimsuit competition. All you need to do is, er, well—” All he needed to do was nothing . But I didn’t want to come out and say it.
    â€œBut I get to pick some pretty women, right?”
    â€œUm, no. Actually, all the pre-competition stuff is taken care of.” By my good, efficient friend Twyla Tafel. “You don’t have to pick the women. They’re already signed up.”
    â€œBut Nixie, I’ve got an idea!”
    Uh-oh. Dirk with an idea was as dangerous as a monkey with a gun.
    Now that I thought about it, Dirk sort of looked like a monkey, too. Skinny, with a potbelly. Like an orangutan—well, maybe not an orangutan, because they were apes, not monkeys. Like a chimpanzee…no, wait, those were apes, too. Like a macaque! Yes, those were monkeys. Except, no…no, he really didn’t look like a macaque.
    No, Dirk Ruffles looked like Tarzan’s chimp, Cheetah, in a bright yellow fedora. On anyone else the hat would have looked all Humphrey Bogart. It made Dirk look like a duck.
    Actually, when he spoke, Dirklet reminded me of Huey, Dewey, and Louie, too.
    Elena flashed me a sympathetic look. “What’s your idea, Dirk?”
    â€œThat you’d be a perfect contestant, Detective Ma’am!” Dirk grinned like an idiot. “You’d look great in a bikini, Detective Ma’am! Like a Bond girl. In a bikini with a gun belt strapped across your hips!”
    Bo, leaning against the wall, straightened suddenly. Growled .
    Dirk was either deaf or just plain baka . Despite the obvious imminent danger, he continued blithely on. “What a great draw! My uncle would love it!”
    Elena put a hand on Dirk’s shoulder, keeping a wary eye on her husband. “Maybe that’s not such a good idea, Dirk. Um, think of how it would reflect on the department. Captain Titus probably wouldn’t like it.” She kept her tone mild and reasonable, like speaking to a child. Elena once told me crowd control of a thousand drug-freaked groupies at a