Bird Brained by Jessica Speart Page B

it?”
    “No,” I assured her. “But since Willy was working with him, I thought you might have heard something.”
    “Then you think
Willy
knocked him off.” Bambi drummed her fingers along the curve of her hip.
    “I don’t think he did it, either.” I tried another approach. “Did you ever meet Alberto?”
    “Yeah. I met him once over at Willy’s place. He was walking around like he was afraid something might bite him in the ass. Not only that, but he didn’t even try to hit on me and I was looking real good that day.” Bambi’s eyes began to mist up. “I remember ’cause I thought that me and Willy might be getting back together. Which is why I went and got this.”
    Bambi turned around and hiked the miniskirt up above her rear end, revealing a bottom attired in microscopic black thong panties. I followed the path of her midnight-blue nail across her skin to the middle of one exposed cheek. In the center of her flesh was a tattoo of a heart bearing Willy’s name. This was far more than I needed to know.
    Bambi glanced at me over her shoulder. “Now what am I supposed to do with this thing? You tell me that!”
    I had to admit she had me on that one.
    “Do you know if Willy got your bird from Alberto?”
    Bambi pulled her skirt down, one tight quarter inch at a time. “Nah. That nasty pile of feathers didn’t come from Alberto. Willy got it as part of a payoff from some broad by the name of Elena. Hell, she probably gave it to him as a bribe to sleep with her. That’s why we broke up, you know.”
    “Why was that?” I hadn’t heard this part of the story before.
    “Because he’ll sleep with any cheap piece of ass that asks him to. The man has no willpower. Hell, he’d screw a loaf of rye bread if it wasn’t stale,” Bambi moaned. “Sometimes I think it isn’t really his fault. It’s just that women find Willy irresistible.”
    Were we talking about the same man?
    “That’s the other way he made money when we were together,” she confided.
    “You mean Willy was a gigolo?” I wondered what delusional woman would have paid for his services.
    “Nah, not that. He rented those big cats of his out for
Penthouse
and
Playboy
photo shoots. He was in tight with Hef and that Guccione guy. Willy even promised that he could make me a centerfold. Then I found out the bastard was sleeping with all of the models! He told me he had to do it to keep the girls happy. Otherwise, they’d refuse to pose with his pets and we’d starve.”
    Could the woman who’d given Weed the Cuban Amazon be the very same Elena who’d sent the photos I’d found at Alberto’s? Bambi continued to pace angrily, her bare feet slapping against the grimy floor.
    “What do you know about this Elena?” I asked.
    Bambi stared blankly at me, preoccupied with chewing on her broken nail. “Who?” she asked.
    “The woman who gave Willy that bird.”
    Bambi leaned back against the Formica countertop, balancing on one foot, as the other performed figure eights in the air.
    “She’s some rich Cuban bitch that calls herself a photographer. I’ve seen her work and trust me—it sucks. She’s just a fag hag.”
    “What do you mean?” I asked.
    Bambi rolled her eyes and sighed. “She specializes in taking photos of beefcake. But the guys are all pansies, ya know? You tell me what she gets outta that, huh?”
    Bambi raised her foot higher and I saw that the sole was encrusted with dirt.
    “Now to me,
that’s
sick. You oughta see some of the pictures she takes. Those guys pose with their equipment just about hanging out like it was flagpoles.” Bambi hoisted herself onto the counter, her skirt riding up past her thighs. “I’m telling ya, that Elena’s just an example of what’s going on. The damn Cubans have taken over Florida, and you know how they did it?”
    She stared at me sullenly, demanding a response.
    “Working hard and starting businesses?” I ventured.
    “Hah!” Bambi’s mouth pulled into a tight, straight