Meeting Martina

The first thing Tim did after introducing himself was to open his purse, pull out his compact, and touch up his face. Once the nagging urge was sated, and once he had decided that he looked pretty enough (something he was becoming surprisingly comfortable with), he stared across the table at Martina, the woman Justice had asked him to help.

It was strange to think that someone as powerful as Justice would need help from someone like Tim. Sure, her interventions had significantly changed his life, giving him supernatural abilities, but as far as Tim knew it, Justice was one of the most powerful beings in creation. Couldn’t she just wiggle her fingers and fix things?

She had given a vague explanation of why she needed him. Something about Luck and Destiny not overstepping, crossing lines of authority, and then a bit about weighted subnatural dynamics, which seemed like gibberish to Tim. But he felt he owed her, so he had agreed to jump in. Had it not been for her, he would still be a lonely sad sack aimlessly browsing flea markets. Sure, he wouldn’t be walking around in a skirt and heels, but he felt that he’d gotten the better end of the deal.

Despite the ugly swollen eye that Martina sported, Tim could tell that she was a beautiful woman. Her long curly black hair perfectly framed a lovely face. Even though she wore not a speck of makeup, and though she probably hasn’t slept a wink, Tim couldn’t help but admire her, acknowledging that she was probably one of the sexiest women he’d seen in a long time.

He could also tell that she found him beautiful too. It came with his new powers, the ones that he had received from his trades with Lust and Desire. Coils of an eager craving lit up around the women when he entered the small room. She wanted him, and she wanted him badly. Yes, she probably wouldn’t be in a space to do anything about it, what with her boyfriend recently killed in front of her and her subsequent arrest, but the desire was undeniable.

“I’m not sure how long they’ll give us,” Tim told the incarcerated woman in a voice more appropriate for a teenage girl than a grown man, “Alone, I mean. I told them not to disturb us, and people usually respect what I say, but every once and a while…”

“Are you my lawyer?” Martina asked in a small voice. She sounded exhausted and afraid. Tim’s heart went out to her.

“Not exactly,” he responded, “I’m a guy who people usually listen to. I think that if I just talk to the right person, if I can figure out who that is, we can get this mess all cleaned up.”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“Just trust me,” Tim said, “I have your best interests at heart, and I’m going to make everything better.”

Something changed in her expression. It was like all the worry held in her eyes evaporated. He’d seen his power, his supernaturally amped-up authority, at play before. Most people accepted what he told them without question, just as Martina had. Some fought it, like the officer who had tried to keep Tim from the interrogation room, but even he had caved in the end. How far would Tim be able to push his power? At what point would his authority be ignored? He had a feeling that he might just find out while he helped this poor woman.

“What have they told you?” Tim asked, hoping to get information about how he should start to untangle the web of trouble she was in.

“They…” she stopped, words caught in her throat. Tears began to hit the table, “they said that I did everything, that I might get…” another pause, “the **** penalty.”

“Holy shit.”

“I didn’t do it! It was my Alexandro! He was involved in some bad things, with some bad people!” She reached across the table and held Tim’s hands in hers, the coils of desire around her lighting up at the touch, “You have to believe me.”

“I believe you, sugar” Tim said with a wink, squeezing her hands, trying to fight back his flirtatious nature, “it’s the courts and the police that I’m worried about. Even though it seems obvious that you are innocent, they are hell bent on pinning everything on you. I wonder…”

Tim trailed off, considering that the police and judge might not be the masters of their own destinies, that someone behind the scenes might be influencing their actions.

“Martina, do you know who the bad people are that Alexandro was involved with?”

“He usually did business with a guy named Santos. Rick Santos. We would meet him at this pool hall near the beach. ‘Rackers’.”

“That’s exactly what I need,” Tom gave her hands another squeeze, “I’m going to have to leave for a bit, but I’ll be back, hopefully soon. While I’m gone, I need you to not talk to the police about your case. Every time they ask you something, just say that you need me in the room. Can you do that?”

“I can try,” she said, her voice still small.

“That’s all i can ask,” without thinking, Tim brought her hands to his lips and kissed them. After realizing what he had done, he released her, Martina’s face was flush. Had he embarrassed her?

“I’ll try to be back tomorrow,” Tim told her and he stood up, the sound of his chair on the concrete floor filling his ears, “In the meantime, keep your chin up. We’re going to get through this thing. I promise.”