Fake name?
I gave her one.
— Butterfly
I hate rules, but things with Doug got out of hand, so I knew I needed a few. I kept the list simple:
No guns.
No knockouts by my hand.
Never disrespect anybody who's got less than you.
And never let anybody make you feel guilty for fighting back.
Doug's tears stole the joy from my triumph, but he was humiliated.
Larry wrecked our relationship by getting scammed, but he was naive.
Steve knew the risks that came with his line of work. He was careless.
Other guys were just idiots and I can't fault them for that.
Actually, I can.
But The B?
He's the guy who showed up for a date wearing a T-shirt that said "Have Fun Staying Poor."
I recognized him at The Bitter End last night when I was with the girls from work. He was wearing a shirt with a different slogan, but it was the same guy.
He needed to get got.
I was working on a plan, but I needed to talk it through, so I went back to the bar. I was hoping to find the hooker who tipped me off when she spotted Doug trying to slip GHB into my drink.
She wasn't there, but when I left, I heard a woman threatening to de-dome the driver of a Dodge Durango. It was her.
I felt nervous, because I had no idea how this was going to go.
"Hey, so, this is weird, but... can I buy you a drink? Can we talk?"
She said, "Butterfly, I think you got the wrong girl."
"No, no, no. Last night, you saw a guy slip something in my drink at The Bitter End. You came over, to warn me. Well done, by the way. That was awesome."
"Oh, yeah, I remember you. What'd you do about it?"
"I tricked him into switching the drinks. He fucked himself up."
She smiled, and I could tell the thought of hurting a bad guy made her feel good.
"Seriously," I said. "Can we talk? I need your help with something, and I'll pay you. If it turns out to be worth a lot, I'll pay you a lot. Lemme buy you a beer so we can talk."
We went back to the bar. The way the bartender rolled his eyes at my fake ID said I should definitely get a better one. Noted. He served me anyway.
"Let's grab one of the dark booths," I said.
At the Bitter End, the outside patio is where you go to see and be seen. The booths are where you go to hide. Swingers and singles? They're outside. Cheaters and scammers thrive in darkness. I do too.
When we sat down, Destiny looked at me and said, "So?" I had a plan, but I wasn't quite sure how to say it.
"So," I said, "in your line of work... You meet a lot of shitty guys, right?"
"In my line of work?"
"I don't judge. That's not what I'm getting at."
"Then get fuckin' to it."
"In this world, there are good people and there are bad people. I'm not talking about what anybody does for money. We all do what we have do to get by. I'm talking about truly bad people. People who hurt kids. And rapists. And people who look down on you because you've got less than them, so they think you are less than them. They're bad people. They deserve to get got."
"Whoa. That guy really pissed you off last night, huh?"
"Yeah, but thanks to you, I got him. I made him weep. But there's this other guy..."
"Yeah?"
"Let's say you're talking to a guy who's flashing cash, y'know? Guys like to show off. Imagine you see him take off his jacket, and he's wearing a T-shirt that says 'Have Fun Staying Poor.' Come on. What would you think?"
"I'd think he's an asshole."
"Keep going."
"I don't know. I'd think..."
"Wouldn't you think he deserves to get brought down to size?"
"Sure."
"I know that guy. I know how to do it. I need to do it. I'll pay you to help me."
"What exactly are you talkin' about here?"
"His shirt said 'Have Fun Staying Poor.' I want to make him poor."
"Hold up. I ain't robbin' anybody."
"You won't. Listen. Last night, you were in the restroom with some guy."
"What's it to you?"
"No judgment. I was in the next stall. Did you hear what happened to the guy you were with?"
"Yeah, he was pissed. Somebody emptied his..."
"Wallet. That was me. He had two hundred bucks on him."
"Well, shit. Aren't you a sly butterfly? He was an asshole anyway."
The fact that she wasn't pissed meant she got paid in advance. She was a pro, so I hit her with my pitch.
"Here's what I need. I'll show you who the guy is. I need you to act like you're just some girl at a bar. Flirt and get a conversation going. Let him buy you a drink. Pretend you're being wild and impulsive. Convince him to join you for a swim at The Dunes." That's a popular spot at Miller Beach on Lake Michigan.
"You want me to take him swimming?"
"I want him to take his pants off with no reason to suspect something's up."
"You want his pants?"
"I want what'll be in his pants. His keys and the driver's license from his wallet. While the two of you are swimming, I'm gonna make copies, so I'll need an hour. When I'm done, I'll put the originals back in his pants. He'll never know it happened. And I'll wait a few weeks before I hit his house."
"Why wait?"
"That way, there won't be connection between when he met you and when he got robbed."
"Huh. That's pretty good."
"I know, right? I'll pay you up front, because I have no way of knowing if the guy is loaded or if he's just a dick. But whatever I get, you get half. And here's a down payment." I handed her half of what I'd stolen from her john the night before. I knew if she held the money, she'd be in.
As she counted the cash, I asked her name.
She said, "I'm Destiny."
Sure, hon. That's how it's done.
Fake name? I gave her one.
I told her, "I'm Hellen."