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Now, sit back, relax, put on your favorite crime jazz records, and enjoy this next installment of The Nighthawk Lounge.

Chapter 2

I found myself opting to walk home from the Nighthawk that night.

It was bitterly cold and there were at least three cabs waiting outside the bustling club, but the truth was I needed to cool down a little.

I welcomed the long walk home as time to collect my thoughts and reflect on the little that the Lewis dame was willing to offer me.

"Hello Detective, how did you enjoy the show?" She greeted me as I was shown by oaf of a bodyguard type into her private dressing room.

"Just swell kid, I can see why the old man doesn't want to let ya' go." I replied keeping my cool.

She powdered her nose as she looked back at me in the mirror. All the better, I didn't want to get lost in those dizzying doe eyes of hers again.

"So, does this mean you'll take the case Detective?" She turned around eyes bright and full of hope. I was sunk.

"It means if you give me all the details and full disclosure I will." I took my hat off and pointed it in her direction as I took a seat on the red velvet couch lining the wall of her dressing room opposite her vanity.

"Oh absolutely Ms. Dennis." She came to crouch low beside me. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Well you can start by giving me half the dough for the job now. I'll collect the rest after the job is done." She rose to her feet and nodded to me heading toward her small clutch purse on the vanity. She pulled a few crisp bills from her purse before turning back toward me.

"How much was it again?" She asked diplomatically.

"Two hundred now, two hundred later."

She nodded and counted the bills before closing the clutch and handing me the money.

"Thank you Ms. Lewis, now, the full story." I prompted. I didn't dare spend a cent of the change she handed me until I knew what I was really getting into.

"Yes. About that." She paused and tugged a little on the belt to the robe she was wearing over her ensemble. "I will give you the full details," she crouched down next to me again, and lowered her voice. "But not here." She glanced around wearily. "There are eyes and ears everywhere."

I got an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Yup. Better not even bother telling Kenzi about the bread.

"When then?" I ask a little gruffer than I mean to.

"Tomorrow, how about in the afternoon. I have a class in the morning."

I look at her skeptically. "Alright then. You know the little diner just down from my office?" She nodded. "Alright, I'll see you there, say three o'clock. How does that sound?"

She rose to her feet. "Wonderful Ms. Dennis. I look forward to it."

I stood and crossed the room to the door, but before I could open it I was met with a brush of smooth warm lips against my cheek.

"Thank you again Detective." She husked in a deep voice.

"I'll see ya' tomorrow Ms. Lewis." I said gathering my wits about me, and I slid out the door closing it without another look back.

By the time I had gotten back out to the main floor I noticed that Kenzi, Tamsin and the group of sailors on leave were gone. Part of me was grateful that I wouldn't have to share any of the half details with my spunky, over eager partner just yet. Knowing her she'd be spending this money before it was even made, and sending me to an early grave.

So I walked. I breathed in the night air. The sounds of muffled couples arguing in the night, and police sirens floated through the thick night air. I paused for a moment outside another club. I could hear the sound of brushes on cymbals and snares, and the low pangs of someone wailing on a saxophone. I contemplated stopping in for a moment. Another drink to clear my head. But I knew it wouldn't do any good. I'd had too many for the evening already, and I could hear my old creaky full bed calling my name.

Another twenty minutes and I was crashing through the door to the apartment I shared with Kenzi on the second floor of The Dal.

I tossed my hat on the rack, and shrugged my coat off unceremoniously allowing it to pool on the floor at my feet. I kicked off my shoes, and pulled off my tie with one hand unbuttoning my shirt with the other.

I barely had the garments off when I found myself through my bedroom door and passed out on top of the covers of my bed.

It was one of those nights. One of those evenings when you pass out for about an hour and then wake up and lie there tired, desperate for sleep yet it just won't come.

I hated the night. In my opinion the night was worse than the day, and the day was pretty damn awful.

I hated the night because I hated the nightmares that had become so synonymous with it.

I could still hear their voices. See their faces. I felt myself jumping out of that plane as it went down over France.

It was just another routine Air Transport Auxiliary mission. Between them and Women's Airforce Service I had flown nearly a hundred of these supply missions before. But this time it was different. I was stationed in England, and me and my Co-Pilot Betty were the only crew on board transporting our cargo to be dropped at a secret base in the North of France when we took heavy fire and the plane started spiraling downward out of control.

A German plane had flown up beside us and sent a spray of bullets through the cockpit before I had managed to take back control of the aircraft and send us colliding into their much smaller plane causing them to catch fire from our inflamed tail.

My victory was short lived however when we continued to lose altitude, and I looked over to see that Betty had gotten hit. She lay there lifeless, a pool of blood trickling out from her left temple. It made me stick as salty tears stung my eyes, and smoke began to cloud my vision.

I had radioed my dilemma and now there was nothing left but for me to bailout. I approached the now completely open cargo section of the plane, waiting for a clearing, and then closed my eyes and jumped.

I tugged on my parachute cord at the precise moment, just like they had taught us back in flight school in the event of an emergency.

When I finally hit the ground I found myself surrounded by US soldiers pointing their guns my way, and was relieved that for all the places I could land in enemy territory I managed to end up with our boys.

After a great deal of explanation they begrudgingly agreed to bring me with them, as none of us had any choice. Unfortunately we were a three day hike from any friendly base that could transport me back to safety.

It was in those three days that I would see things that you can never un-see. Hear what you can't un-hear. Hold boys no older than myself in my arms as they cried out for their mothers, their fathers, their girlfriends, all to have them fall silent only minutes later as I clung to them desperately wanting to help, but there was nothing I could do. Nothing but hold them and reassure them that they were going to be okay.

It was images like that that woke me up screaming in the middle of the night. Kenzi didn't even bother to come in and check on me anymore. She had become used to the almost nightly rein of terror erupting from my bedroom.

So, I tossed and I turned. I tired to think of anything else. Sunshine, the beach, cherry cola, and moon pies. Anything.

And then I began to think of her face. That blonde hair slicked up in light finger waves, that perfect creamy white skin, that tiny indentation in her chin, those big beautiful coffee eyes, and finally those luscious, kissable red lips.

It was finally with that image in my mind that I managed to drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning and afternoon rolled by slowly. Kenzi was out in front nursing a hangover while I sat back at my desk with my own remedy. Nothin' beats the hair of the dog.

I sipped my scotch slowly, and twirled a cigarette between my fingers, willing the clock on the opposite wall to read three.

When the time finally came I threw on my hat and coat, I told Kenzi I had an errand or two to run and she was too out of it to question me. Just asking me to pick up some aspirin and Alka-Seltzer tablets on my way back.

I skipped down the steps and out the front of the building, making my way to the Tahiti Diner, just half a block down from my office.

It was a quaint little spot, the inside all decked out in bamboo, and reds, yellows and oranges. There were hula girl statues and ceramic palm trees decorating the joint. Hell they even stuck those little colorful umbrellas in your sandwich. It was almost a cruel joke on a cold day like this, sitting in a false paradise while you watched the snow fall outside the bright plate glass windows.

When I approached Jimmy the usual afternoon bus boy asked if I'd like my usual table, but when I spotted the blonde in a booth in the far corner I thanked him and let him know that wouldn't be necessary.

She was early and I noticed her fidgeting with a clean white handkerchief as I approached.

"Afternoon Ms. Lewis." I said, she was seated with her back to me and I slipped my coat and hat off and handed them to Jimmy who had followed me to the table.

I slid into the booth and gave a small nod to the woman in front of me.

"It's quite the place you picked here Ms. Dennis. I almost forgot the storm front moving in from the lake this evening." She gave me a coy smile.

"Yeah well, it's close and quiet, and the staff makes it a point of not hearing things. Just be sure to mention you don't want pineapple, they put it on everything." I gave her my own sly smirk and settled in, making a motion to Jimmy so that he would know I'd take my usual coffee.

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind Ms. Dennis." Her smile grew and I felt a small stab in my heart.

"You know, if we're going to be working together you can call me Bo."

She nodded, "I thought you weren't still sure as to whether you were going to take the case or not." The corner of her mouth twitched as a waitress came around with two coffees, placing them silently on the table and then taking her leave.

"Well, that's what were here to find out, besides I've already got your dough don't I?" I blew on my coffee to cool it before raising it to my lips and took a sip. I gave her a small nod, which she took as her cue to begin.

"Right then. Down to business." She took a cautious look around and I muffled a small chuckle with another sip of the hot, rich liquid.

"You see, I started singing after the war as a way to make money for medical school. I had been a part of the WACs as a surgical assistant in France and then the South Pacific." She paused to take a sip of her own coffee after adding cream.

"So, you wanna be a nurse?" I asked a little surprised.

She gave me a glaring look. "No, I'm going to be a doctor. I already finished my undergraduate before the war. I'm taking classes now and going for my PhD."

I cocked my head to the side and gave a small laugh, "lady doctors? That'll be the day. I wish you all the best of luck with that one kid."

Her gaze turned even more icy. "Because of course there can be women detectives, private investigators, but not doctors right?" Her tone was as cold as her stare.

"Listen sweetheart, I didn't mean to ruffle your damn petticoat, it'll just be a tough department that's all." I raise my hands in defense.

"Yeah well, nothin' worth while in life is easy is it Ms. Dennis?" If looks could kill I'd be a dead woman by now.

"No Ms. Lewis, I don't suppose it is." I shrugged my shoulders and took another sip of coffee, my silence as an encouragement for her to continue when she was ready.

"Anyhow, I took the gig to pay for school. My family and I had a falling out, and I'd always had a knack at singing so I decided to give it a go. I sang in a couple of clubs before starting the Nighthawk. You see…" She began to twist that damn handkerchief again, almost absentmindedly. "You see, the old owner was a good man. I had had a run in with a particularly possessive ex, and the old owner offered me his protection in exchange for signing an exclusive three-year contract. The money paid well, and I knew I'd be in school for at least four more years or so, so I took the job without a second thought."

I nodded. "The ex, he rough you up or something? He still in the picture?"

She sighed and looked as though she were having some sort of internal debate.

"They won't be a problem anymore, but they are a crucial part of why I sought you out."

"You didn't answer my question." I breathed. I didn't know why I was getting so hot under the collar, I'd only just met this woman, but something about her made me want to protect her, and if some son of a bitch had laid their hands on her I'd see to it that I personally ended their existence.

"At first everything was fine. We met overseas actually. Nadia was another surgical assistant stationed at the same hospital as me in the South Pacific. Always very gentile and kind with patients, but when we returned to the states, something changed. Something in her snapped and she became violent, and mentally detached. I tried breaking up with her multiple times but every time she'd track me down and try to get me back. It was becoming a real problem." She sighed, during her whole speech she'd looked me directly in the eyes, and held a steady tone.

"She?" I cocked my head to the side again and couldn't help the grin pulling at the corners of my mouth.

She glazed over my comment and continued, "Our arrangement was working out quite well, and I had signed an additional one year contract with my former employer. However, two months into my new contract the new owner, Lachlan showed up one day out of the blue. Said he'd bought the Nighthawk on a whim, and that the old owner had retired to the Poconos. It was a funny thing see, he'd never once mentioned retiring, and certainly never the Poconos. So myself and a few of the members of the house band decided to swing around his place to check it out. When we looked in his windows all his furniture was still there. We couldn't believe he'd just leave with no goodbye, no explanation."

It was fishy I'll give her that, but people were allowed to have a change of heart. Call it a midlife crisis. People could be particularly swayed for the right price as well.

"That was the first suspicious thing that happened." She looked away from me a slight glisten of a tear in her eye. "After about another month or two, one night Nadia comes walking into the club, or I guess I should say stumbling in. She was drunk and she cornered me in the ally on my way home and gave me a black eye before one of the club's security caught notice of the commotion. He'd asked me to wait for him to walk me home and first dragged Nadia in to see Lachlan by the scruff of her shirt. That was the last time I ever saw Nadia. A week later her body washed ashore Lake Michigan."

I wasn't completely unfamiliar with this way of doing business. But I didn't like that Lauren Lewis had gotten caught up in it.

"I still have a few months left on my contract, but I want out, I'm scared Ms… Bo." I looked at the fear and longing in her eyes, and I wished that I could take that fear away.

Without even realizing what I was doing I found my hands reaching across the table to cover hers, and my voice saying, "Listen, I will do everything I can to get you out of the remainder of your contract. Don't you worry Ms. Lewis."

She looked at me with glistening eyes, eyes that looked at me like I was her salvation, and I only hoped that I could measure up.

"Please, call me Lauren." She gave me a faint smile.

A reassuring smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. "You got it Lauren. You just hang in there, everything's gonna be swell."