Bobby sensed rather than saw what was happening down the alley. Although it had been several years since his work in Narcotics, some things you just didn't forget. He turned down the alley, staggering as if drunk. His gun was tucked in his waistband, hidden by his oversized shirt; his badge, stuck in his back pocket.
The hooker was medium height in a tight black leather skirt and black 3/4 sleeve mesh shirt. Her black bra visible thru the shirt. The boots were long, coming almost to her knees, with ridiculous three-inch heels. The crowning glory was her hair. The wig, in Shirley Temple ringlets, was fire engine red. He could see her chatting up the dealer from his vantage point. As he got closer, he saw her move between his line of sight and that of the drug dealer. She never missed a beat when she turned to him,
"Look, sugar," in a rich voice that dripped Southern honey, "I told you just to wait in the car and I'd be right back. I just needed a little somethin' to get the party started."
She turned, keeping her body between Goren's and the drug dealer. Goren reached out and pulled her close up against him. In a slurred speech he replied, "Couldn't wait, baby. Come on." He also began to run his hands up and down her hips.
He felt her tense slightly before she ran a hand over his, stopping his roaming. Leaning back against him, she said "Alright, sugar, just let me get this taken care of." She looked back to the dealer, "Day after tomorrow, right?"
He nodded. The dealer kept his hand in his pocket, on a weapon, Goren was sure. He continued to eye Goren warily, but he took the red head at her word. "Make sure he doesn't come with you."
"No problem, darlin'," the girl answered. She turned back to face Goren, putting her hand on his chest. "Okay, sugar, let's go find us someplace nice." And she walked him out of the alley, continuing to shield him from the dealer. Goren continued to stagger as if drunk, wondering what she would do. Once they were a couple of blocks from the alley, she spoke again.
"You know, sugar, if you had a car now would be a good time to point that out."
Goren shook his head and answered, "No car. Room's just up there," still refusing to break his character.
The look in her eyes passed quickly. Interesting, he thought. What was it - fear, uncertainty? She continued with him, her arms still linked through his. He entered the building and pushed the elevator button for the floor to his apartment. She must think I'll pass out soon and she can leave, he mused.
He opened the door to his apartment and let her enter ahead of him. She hadn't said anything else since they entered his building. He could tell she was on guard but her whole appearance was still very relaxed. She dropped on his couch as he walked across and turned a chair around from the kitchen table.
"So, sugar, what are we gonna do now?" The red head asked as Goren sat down in the chair.
"Now," Goren answered, no longer slurring his words, "I'm going to read you your rights." He pulled his badge from his back pocket, "Robert Goren, NYPD."
She smiled and nodded. Very slowly, she unzipped the boot and removed a small, round object and tossed it to Goren. He caught it and looked as she replied, "Dani Cantrell, Houston PD," all traces of the sickly sweet Southern accent gone.
"Nice to meet ya'."
