CHAPTER TWO
Sasha blew the smoke from her mouth towards the ceiling of the bar. What a dive, she thought surveying the place and its patrons. She tapped her long, pink fingernails against the scarred surface as she signaled for another drink. Mmmm, pineapple juice and Parrot Bay, she thought, unconsciously licking her lips. Makes me feel sultry.
She took a sip of the concoction as she again studied her fellow bar companions. Her eyes scanned the possibilities. No, no, no.maybe. Her eyes rested on the large fellow by the pool table. The buttons of his shirt strained against his massive girth. Sasha thought about this carefully. He was a bit too fat for her taste, but she had been sitting in the bar for over an hour and was getting impatient. She watched as he wiped the sweat from his brow before grabbing his beer. She smiled. What the hell.
Sasha downed her drink and fluffed her hair. Slowly she approached the hulk, making sure to sashay as she walked. She stopped next to his beer.
"Hey," she said in her deep, sultry voice. The man blinked in confusion and looked around. Seeing that she was actually talking to him, his eyes settled back on her. "Yeah?"
"What's your name, big boy?"
"Tom. Tom Warner."
Hello Tom. "Need a partner? It's no fun to play pool alone."
Tom watched as she perched on the corner of the table, exposing about three inches of thigh in the process. "Sure, a man could always use a partner," he said wolfishly.
Sasha smiled. Good-bye Tom. ×××××××××
"Oh, this is getting out of hand," Faith remarked as Bosco pulled up to the crime scene. News vans, reporters and camera people were straining against the police barriers trying to get a photo, a sound bite. They were in an abandoned parking lot, not too far away from an elementary school.
"The serial tapist strikes again," Bosco deadpanned.
"It's not funny Bos," Faith said sharply as they climbed out of the squad. They were immediately peppered with questions from the animated reporters. Bosco and Faith expertly ignored them.
"Maybe these guys just talked too much, got a little mouthy," Bosco theorized, "and the killer felt that he was doing us all a favor."
"If that were the case, you'd be dead and buried by now."
They came up to where the body lied. The dead man resembled a beached whale, brilliantly white and smooth. His eyes stared up sightlessly, his mouth taped. He was lying in a heap, as if he were unceremoniously dumped there without a second thought. A long, slim rope trailed from around his neck.
"Tom Warner, 36, a former resident of 567 Brighton Ave," Davis announced to 55 David. "Cause of death appears to be strangulation."
"Thank you, M.E. Davis," Bosco said. "How long has he been out here?"
"Well, the real M.E. says he's been dead since last night," Davis answered.
Davis and Bosco discussed more of the details as Faith stared at the corpse. She was filled with horror and dread. Feeling a hand on her arm, she jumped. Bosco looked at her concerned.
"Faith, he's a stiff. You've seen one, you've seen 'em all."
"Yeah, yeah," she stammered, trying to keep her eyes off the unfortunate fellow.
"Come on. The captain wants us to start a canvas."
She nodded, following her partner, taking one last look at Tom Warner. She couldn't quite shake the feeling of foreboding that gripped her.
Sasha blew the smoke from her mouth towards the ceiling of the bar. What a dive, she thought surveying the place and its patrons. She tapped her long, pink fingernails against the scarred surface as she signaled for another drink. Mmmm, pineapple juice and Parrot Bay, she thought, unconsciously licking her lips. Makes me feel sultry.
She took a sip of the concoction as she again studied her fellow bar companions. Her eyes scanned the possibilities. No, no, no.maybe. Her eyes rested on the large fellow by the pool table. The buttons of his shirt strained against his massive girth. Sasha thought about this carefully. He was a bit too fat for her taste, but she had been sitting in the bar for over an hour and was getting impatient. She watched as he wiped the sweat from his brow before grabbing his beer. She smiled. What the hell.
Sasha downed her drink and fluffed her hair. Slowly she approached the hulk, making sure to sashay as she walked. She stopped next to his beer.
"Hey," she said in her deep, sultry voice. The man blinked in confusion and looked around. Seeing that she was actually talking to him, his eyes settled back on her. "Yeah?"
"What's your name, big boy?"
"Tom. Tom Warner."
Hello Tom. "Need a partner? It's no fun to play pool alone."
Tom watched as she perched on the corner of the table, exposing about three inches of thigh in the process. "Sure, a man could always use a partner," he said wolfishly.
Sasha smiled. Good-bye Tom. ×××××××××
"Oh, this is getting out of hand," Faith remarked as Bosco pulled up to the crime scene. News vans, reporters and camera people were straining against the police barriers trying to get a photo, a sound bite. They were in an abandoned parking lot, not too far away from an elementary school.
"The serial tapist strikes again," Bosco deadpanned.
"It's not funny Bos," Faith said sharply as they climbed out of the squad. They were immediately peppered with questions from the animated reporters. Bosco and Faith expertly ignored them.
"Maybe these guys just talked too much, got a little mouthy," Bosco theorized, "and the killer felt that he was doing us all a favor."
"If that were the case, you'd be dead and buried by now."
They came up to where the body lied. The dead man resembled a beached whale, brilliantly white and smooth. His eyes stared up sightlessly, his mouth taped. He was lying in a heap, as if he were unceremoniously dumped there without a second thought. A long, slim rope trailed from around his neck.
"Tom Warner, 36, a former resident of 567 Brighton Ave," Davis announced to 55 David. "Cause of death appears to be strangulation."
"Thank you, M.E. Davis," Bosco said. "How long has he been out here?"
"Well, the real M.E. says he's been dead since last night," Davis answered.
Davis and Bosco discussed more of the details as Faith stared at the corpse. She was filled with horror and dread. Feeling a hand on her arm, she jumped. Bosco looked at her concerned.
"Faith, he's a stiff. You've seen one, you've seen 'em all."
"Yeah, yeah," she stammered, trying to keep her eyes off the unfortunate fellow.
"Come on. The captain wants us to start a canvas."
She nodded, following her partner, taking one last look at Tom Warner. She couldn't quite shake the feeling of foreboding that gripped her.
