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football hello factory job. 
According to Kim, factory work didn’t suit Georgie either (due to alcoholism
and just plain laziness, per Kim). He soon skipped town.
    “What are you drinking?” I asked
offering her a refill.
    “Virgin daiquiri.”
    How ironic.
    “Get the lady another and another
Bud for me,” I said to the big bartender, who was starting to remind me of Tex
Cobb, only his nose wasn’t as pretty.
    “Where is Georgie now?”  I asked.
    “Are you kidding? I haven’t seen
Georgie in three months. His folks don’t even know where he’s at.”
    “So once you were disfigured
Georgie left you. That’s cruel.”
    “No, the patch never bothered him.
I think he thought it was cool.  He stayed around a bit, but as soon as I
started showing he skipped town. Now, I’m really scared because I can’t work
much longer and I can’t find him to get any child support money out of him.”
    She took her daiquiri from the
goon and I got another delicious cold one.
    “Why don’t I help you find him?” I
offered.
    “What are you a cop? You kind of
look like a cop.”
    She looked at my jacket and tie.
    “No, I’m a private investigator,
I…”
    “No… I don’t have any money to pay
you and you probably can’t find him, so you can forget that,” she said and
looked at me sassy again; one hand on her narrow hip.
    “I tell you what. I’ll check with
the credit bureau and see if he’s inquired anywhere. It costs me three bucks. 
I won’t charge you unless I find him and you don’t have to pay me until you get
your first child support payment.  There is even an attorney in my office
building who can file the judgment on Georgie for you.  What do you say?”
    Kim thought just a moment as she
gently rubbed her belly. I noticed she had chewed her straw up a little.
    “OK, but no money for you until I
see some first. Deal?”
    She seemed pleased with her new
drunken detective.
    “Here’s my card. Write your name
and number here and I’ll call you next week when I find him.  Better write down
his date of birth too and last known address.”
    I handed her the small pad I keep
in my coat pocket, kind of like Barney Fife. She wrote like a cheerleader.
    “You seem sure you can find him.
You must be pretty good,” she said; her neatly plucked brows rose slightly.
    “I’m really not that good. Trouble
follows a guy like Georgie. Should be easy to find. He’ll turn up.”
    It sounded like I said ‘turnip’. 
I needed to slow down on the beer.  I was starting to feel good about getting a
hot chick’s phone number until I remembered she was a pregnant pirate-looking
girl.
    “Hey!” She looked at me with
sudden realization. “Maybe you could help my friend Tammy.  She thinks someone
is trying to kill her.  I ain’t sure I believe her, but she has been acting so
strangely.  She…”
    “Tammy McHenry?”  I asked,
hopefully.
    “Yeah, how’d you know?”
     
    Now that is intriguing. Tammy; a
pretty girl widowed out of her soon-to-be ex-husband and now the killers are
after her.  I was starting to feel like a regular Sam Spade. The beer was
working its magic.
    “Who would want to kill Tammy? I
mean look at her,” I said and stole a free look across the room at her elfin
features and tiny stomach muscles.
    “The people who killed her husband
want her truck…”
    “She drives a real fancy truck?” 
I wondered.
    “That’s the crazy part; it’s a
piece of crap,” Said my new pregnant pal. “It’s actually a Ford Ranger. It
ain’t even a four by four. I don’t know why anyone would want it bad enough to
kill. It really sounds kind of nutty to me, but Tammy says that truck is
special.  She has definitely not been acting right since her husband got
himself murdered. She lost her job at O’Charley’s. Now she has to work here.”
    Kim rolled her eyes over the
general nastiness of Orby’s.
    “You know Travis was a drinker and
a sorry excuse for a husband. I don’t know if he beat