Port Sonoma

half for me. I returned the favor once, when I cut my fees to check up on a club pledge. The pledge turned out to be a member of a rival club. His gang wanted to infiltrate the Devils so they could rip off their bikes and sell them.
Later that day, before I walked into One More Cup, the local coffee shop which is one of my hangouts, I called the girlfriend of the rapper wannabe Armani. I reported that I had not found anything, but I had only followed him for one day. She had not paid me for a computer search. I warned her to be careful.
Lee Carr, who called herself a barista and not a waitress, poured me a cup of coffee. She pointed to a well-dressed woman who sat at a table by the window and told me she had asked about me.
“Who is she?” I asked.
“It’s Gina Hammett.” Lee said. “She’s the Mayor of Port Sonoma.”
“Did she say what she needed?” I said.
“She didn’t tell me, but she looks like she can afford you.” She said. “I wish I could afford her shoes.” Lee always wore black sneakers.
I carried my coffee over to the mayor’s table. I sneaked a look at her full breasts that strained against the tight blouse she wore. But this might be a job so I closed down my erotic thoughts; at least for now.
“Hi, I’m Handy Chandler.” I said. “I was told that you inquired about me.” I eyed her pant suit, string tie and pearl earrings. She was a little overdressed for this joint.
“Hello. Handy is an unusual name. Where does it come from?” She stared at me with pale blue eyes which contrasted with her gray-streaked black hair and alabaster skin.