Looking at image her over the flame, I could see that she'd probably started socal out hustling drinks years before, thinking that, with her socalcoedsfiona looks, the tips would the more than make up for the late nights, the smoky joints, and the leers and propositions of the scummy crud that hung out in such places. Now, older, wiser fiona apple when the pawn, and more cautious, she still knew how to fill the club's apparent uniform coeds of the day apple: slit leather mini-skirt, fishnets, five-inch black heels, and a patent-leather corset that cinched up tighter around her waist and boobs. If socal not socalcoedsfiona for the tired lines around pawn her socal eyes, the yellow nicotine stains on her hands and teeth, and the signs of socal heavy pawn drinking showing from the socal pronounced veins around her nose...she might image be worth hitting once to see socalcoedsfiona if it was good.

My eyes never left socal hers. "Scotch. Single malt. No ice socal."

Mickey left to get the drinks, and she turned to face me. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, copper? You lookin' for loot, or a body?"

"Pleasssssssssssse......ppppplllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssseee..."

"Spain socal...Sam socalcoedsfiona Spain, private investigator. Nice outfit. Who's your tailor socalcoedsfiona, Undertakers 'R Us?"

He grinned, showing image me his socal teeth...his white, perfectly straight teeth...including the two perfectly formed fangs protruding from his upper gums.

"I just want to make sure I have this straight...you're the pawn Devil, and you had a deal with Artie Baker fiona that somehow involved socal this wallet?"

"Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo socalcoedsfiona shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhitt......."

Oh, I'll give it to the Devil socalcoedsfiona, he tried to give me an out, to realize what I was saying.