"You'll see in a minute," I said, enjoying the feeling of having her in my world for a change. I made my way through the crowd with her in tow. Henry saw me coming and pointed to the middle section of the bar.

"Okay you two, time to go," he said to the two men seated in front of us. They grumbled as they took their drinks and left. "Well well, look who still lives," he said, shaking my hand. "Who did you get to fix your foot?"

"She did. She used to be a doctor," I said tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention. "Henry I'd like you to meet Poppy. Poppy this is Henry." A strange expression came over Henry's face as he shook her hand. She shook his hand quickly and started scanning the interior of the club again.

"Well, tell me what happened," he said barely able to keep his eyes off of Poppy.

"I'll tell you later. I'm thirsty."

He smiled. "A beer for you, and what does your lady friend want?"

"Vodka Martini," she said without looking at him.

"He hasn't been in yet, has he?" I asked as he readied the glasses.

"No. Hey, I need to talk to you."

"Yeah, I know. I'm really sor--."

"No not that, something else. Here you go," he said, placing the drinks on the glass bar. "I'll start you a tab," he said as he walked away.

"I like this place," she said, sampling the martini. "Was he the friend you were talking about?"

"Yes and no. He is the one I called last night but there's someone else coming who owes me money. He should show up around midnight. He'll be easy enough to spot."

She shrugged. "Where's the ladies room?" I pointed her in the right direction.

"Henry," I shouted to get his attention as he walked by me. "What did you want to talk about?"

"What's the story with you and that girl?"

I told him what happened the night of the fire, how she'd stitched me up and let me stay. And that was all I told him.

"You're right, that's a wild story," he said, "but I have an even wilder one for you. I know that girl."

"What?" I said disbelievingly.

"Yeah man, she lives in a church over in Commerce doesn't she?"

"How do you know her?"

He shook his head, dismissing my question. "How well do you know her, brother?" There was a tone of concern in his voice.

"I know her pretty well." I felt comfortable with that statement. I had known her only three days but I already knew her better than I could know anyone else in my life. I just couldn't tell him why I felt that way. "Why do you ask? What the hell are you driving at?"

"She's bad medicine man. You need to stay away from her."