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you hurt the girl. Not after I found her for you. Tell you what, why don’t you go home, and I’ll ship the gun back to Frankie.”
    Bob started struggling again, and the effort caused him to groan. “Don’t do that man—the boss’ll think I’m incontinent.”
    “I think you mean incompetent,” I said.
    “What, you an English teacher now? Like I said, Darling, you’re a dead man.”
    I adjusted the gun to a more comfortable position, and was thankful the area around the bar was not very well lit. It also helped that there was no traffic at this time. I cast a final glance in Bob’s direction, pulled my shirt out to cover the pistol, and headed after Destiny at a slow jog.
    While I ran, I wondered if I my attacking Bob might have been a little irrational. After all, he said he wasn’t going to hurt Destiny. But I knew, deep in the hidden regions of my mind, if Bob hurt or killed the girl I might never recover. I was still shaken by the death of the young girl, Celine Stewart, on my last case.
    The neighborhood around me quickly turned residential. The narrow street consisted of a mix of small houses, a few retail stores and several larger houses that had been converted into guest homes. I’m sure at any other time it would have been picturesque, but on this night it possessed the charm of a ghetto.
    I glanced back to make sure Bob hadn’t managed to get free, and then picked up my speed. I’d seen Destiny turn on to Caroline Street and that’s where I headed. Those belts weren’t going to hold Bob for long, and when he got free he was going to be as pissed off as an angry boar.
    I spotted Destiny walking about a block ahead of me and pushed to catch up with her. If she was trying to get away, she wasn’t moving very fast. She walked with a slight limp, and I suspected her feet were hurting her. Considering the height of the heels on the shoes she was wearing, I wasn’t surprised.
    Destiny must have heard the slap of my shoes on the pavement because she picked up her pace. When she realized her heels would not let her move fast enough to get away from me, she spun around, let her weight rest on her left hip, and began to swing her purse in front of her. “What do you want?” she asked.
    I pulled up in front of her. “We’ve got to talk.”
    “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate you getting me out of this mess. But if you think by playing hero you get the girl, you’re wrong. Right now all I want is to go home, grab a stiff drink, and climb into bed.” She put her hands on her hips and added, “Alone. I think I’m leaving Key West tomorrow.”
    “Bob wants those diamonds back, and now he’s pissed at both of us. The belts I tied him up with aren’t going to hold him for long. He could be out there looking for us right now.”
    Destiny glanced behind her. “He’s got the wrong woman.” She spoke without a hint of hesitation, and I suspected she was used to lying.
    I shook my head. “No, he doesn’t, and he knows it. Bob’s seen your picture. I have too. I’m a private investigator. Frankie hired my firm to find you. I didn’t know he was going to have someone meet you with a gun. He said he wanted to talk to you.”
    “You son of a bitch. You could have gotten me killed.” She started to swing her purse in front of her. I’d seen how she’d used it for a weapon, so I timed the arc of her swing, moved forward, grabbed her arm, and held her. Her breath was tinged with the scent of tobacco and alcohol, and a faint flowery perfume clung to her hair.
    “We need to talk,” I said again.
    She looked back down the street and I could almost read her mind, Bob or me. She hesitated, turned on her smile, and licked her lips.
    “All right.” She moved closer to me, brushing my chest with hers. “But if you’re going to protect me from Bob, who’s going to protect you from me?”
    “What do you mean?”
    Destiny brought her hands up to my shoulders and leaned in, kissing me on the cheek. I felt