I’d been working vice for years. This was going to be the case that scored me
Six months chasing down The Orchid. She’d evaded me this long, but a tip from a
CI scored me the chance to arrange a meet. I was in the middle of the street
when she’d pinged me. My phone lit up like a firecracker.
“Lose the sweatshirt and meet me at The Juke in 15.”
I looked around cautiously. She clearly had eyes on me. The crowded street made
it impossible to tell who her minion was.
I dropped my eyes back to my phone to check the time. I knew seedy nightclub
was only a ten minute walk. I tucked my phone back in my pocket and walked as
if I didn’t have a care in the world. My heart was racing.
The adrenaline had the better of me, though, and I made the walk in eight
minutes. I looked up and down the street. No cars. No pedestrians. Completely
I shed my sweatshirt and stuffed it into a nearby dumpster. I did a walk around
the block to burn time and nervous energy. I was finally getting a meet with
the Head Mistress of Gambling.
By the time I made it back to the entrance of The Juke, I met the 15 minute
mark. I ran my hands over my hair to smooth it back from my face. I reached for
the door latch with my thumb and pressed the release.
Smoke occupied the top third of the room and the prominent jukebox was blaring
some kind of techno-new wave funk. The bar seemed filthy and empty.
The voice came from a dimly lit corner.
I mustered the courage to reply, “Hello. You must be The Orchid.”
I took three quick steps into the room.
I instantly realized my mistake.
The guns cocked from behind me.
This was going to be the case that scored me my shield.
I barely had time to register her beautiful face before the lackeys opened fire.