Three Spies in Key West
“Yeah, but it’s my moonlighting gig.” The crowds were thick and loud on Duval street. A Lynyrd Skynyrd cover band was back, tuning up for a second set at Sloppy Joe’s. People were walking from one t shirt shop or bar to the next and nobody was turning up Greene to look at the preserved fire station a block north of the strip. Harry looked at Corbett with a raised eyebrow. “Hey, I am a drug dealer.” Corbett said. “That means, occasionally, I have to actually sell somebody drugs. Mike’s that somebody. And its only pot so don’t get wound up.”
“Technically, it’s against the law.” Harry said, doing all he could not to smile.
Corbett took the bait. “So’s carrying that cannon you’ve got stuck down your back.”
Harry laughed. “Just making sure we understand each other.”
Jenny looked at Harry. “I thought you were done for the weekend.”
“I am. But if my old friend here decides to poison my beer so he can abscond with you, I’m going to drill him between the eyes.”
Jenny looked at Corbett. “Harry, if your old friend here moves five degrees in an unwelcome direction, his nuts are going to show up on a chest x-ray.” She smiled and sipped her beer.
“You seem to attract a certain kind of woman, Harry.” Corbett said.
It's a Job. (I'll Get Back to You on the Career Part.) by Mark Bunny