"Hey, haven't I seen you somewhere before?"
"Naw! I'd remember your face."
"Handsome, ain't it!"
"Yeah, I real beut. For a dog."
"Hey, bitch, who do you think you are?"
"Someone who will bust your ass if you don't get outta my face."
"Yeah, you and who else?"
"Me, that's who. The lady said to get lost. I suggest you do it."
"She ain't worth my time. She's all yours."
"What the hell, Reagan? I didn't need your help. I was handling him just fine on my own."
"Where you?"
"Yes, I was. If you don't think I can do the job, then get someone else to do these undercover gigs. I can certainly think of better ways to spend my Friday nights."
"Oh yeah? How?"
"None of your business. Now, get lost."
"Fine," he replied, loudly enough to be heard by others in the bar. "So, I'm not your type. Got it. You don't have to tell me twice. I'll just move on."
"Please do!" she replied, in an equally loud voice.
Detective Maria Baez and her partner Detective Danny Reagan of New York City Police Department Precinct 54 were working undercover this night, trying to catch a forty-six-year-old college professor suspected of seducing women in their thirties, drugging them, and then leading them out into the alley, where they were strangled, their nude bodies later discovered in the dumpster directly behind The Lay Lady Lounge.
Detective Baez, dressed this evening in black mini skirt, purple silk camisole style top, and black stiletto heels, long hair loosely tossed to one side, and heavy makeup, was the bait of the evening, and had been sitting on a filthy, worn barstool in the dark, dingy lounge for over thirty minutes, slowly sipping on a gin and tonic when approached by a thirty-something-year-old slime ball creep trying to hit on her. She had not been pleased when her partner had come to her rescue.
After pretending to hit on her himself with no luck, Detective Reagan, dressed in casual clothes and cap, with fake Harry Potter style glasses, moved to the other end of the bar, ordering a drink, and pretending to drown his sorrows at having been turned down.
Within a few minutes, a distinguished dark-haired man dressed in beige slacks, light blue dress shirt, and casual sports jacket sat down on the barstool next to Detective Baez. His beard was long, but well groomed, with just a hint of grey. His eyes were dark, but sparkled with promise of good things to come.
"So, just who is your type?" he asked, his voice deep, seductive.
Turning to face the voice, Baez pretended to size up the gentleman.
"You'll do, if you're buying me a drink?"
"With pleasure," he replied. "Bartender, bring the lady another."
"No way. If he's buying, bring me your best. No more of this cheap shit," she directed the young bartender.
"You heard the lady. Your best, bartender."
"Coming up, and you, sir?"
"Oh, nothing for me," the bearded man replied.
Batting her long, fake eyelashes at the gentleman, Baez flirted, "You're going to make a lady drink alone?"
"I don't need alcohol, my dear, when I can get fully intoxicated by your beauty."
"I'm going to be ill," Detective Reagan said in her ear. "Do women really fall for that corny line?"
"You really are beautiful," the man continued. "Except for that smudge of makeup under your magnificently gorgeous eyes."
"My makeup is smudged?"
"Afraid so, my dear. You might want to visit the ladies' room to take care of that."
"Do you promise to be here when I return?"
"You can bet your life on it."
His words sent a shiver down her spine. He helped her down from the barstool, lightly touched her check. "Don't be long, my beauty."
A few seconds after she left, the man pulled a small packet from his jacket pocket, looked around the room to see if anyone was watching, and then poured the powered contents of the packet into her freshly poured drink.
When she returned from the ladies' room, he helped her back on the stool, then handed her the drink.
"Drink this down. You'll enjoy the smoothness of it. And then we can move on to my place, where I can offer something much better."
"I like the sound of that." Baez took the glass from him. "Cheers," she said, and then put the glass to her full, ruby red lips.
Before she could take a sip, Detective Reagan intervened.
"You don't want to drink that, Detective Baez. And you are under arrest, Professor."