She was quite the looker, dark brown curls framing her face. Her nose was a bit beaky, but she wore it well. Her eyes were rimmed with dark makeup and she carried herself with the air of someone who had a bit too much to fear.

In other words, his usual client.

She glanced around the office as if she didn't quite believe that she had found herself there. She pursed her red-painted lips tentatively and turned around when he spoke.
"Looks like you've got into some trouble you can't handle." His hat was tipped over his eyes, casting a dark shadow across his face. He jabbed at the door with his cigarette. "Either take a seat or another look at the door to make up your mind. I'm a highly respected private eye, sweetheart. I ain't got time for shenanigans."

She tucked her skirt under herself and perched daintily on the chair. "I seem to have gotten myself into quite the predicament, Mr. Eye."

He chuckled. "Call me Noire, dollface. What seems to be the problem?" He swung side to side in his desk chair, nursing the glass of whiskey that was waiting expectantly by his seat.

"I have reason to believe that someone is targeting me."

He stopped moving, searching her face for any sign that she might just be toying with him. Her eyes were wide and honest and he couldn't detect any hint of a lie. "I'll take the case. It's not like I've got anything better to do these days anyways."

She smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. "One condition."

"Which is?"

"Call me Lorraine."

He coughed and spat blood. He tried to move his hands, but found he was bound to a chair. Fighting against the bonds, he looked around. Where was he? His vision slowly came into focus and we scowled as someone walked into view.

"…Lorraine."

She grinned and swooped forward. "I've caught you, Noire."

He spat at her feet. "Should've known you were bad news when you walked in." His mind whirred as he tried to think of an escape route.

Laughing, Lorraine spun around to the back side of his chair and wrapped her hands around his neck. "I could kill you now, you know."

"You couldn't."

She slid her hands down and wrapped them around his chest, resting her chin on his shoulder. "No, but I could leave you here to fend for yourself." She rested there a second before she whipped back around the chair and pressed her cherry lips to his own. "Goodbye, Noire." And with that, she was gone.

"My name is Beemo," he whispered, not sure if Lorraine could still hear him. Glancing down, he saw that a penknife had been dropped at his feet, the dark design hinting towards its owner.

He smiled grimly.

He had a suspicion that he had would be seeing Lorraine again soon.