The girl at the bar studied the man sitting alone at the table behind her in the mirror. His angelic face belied the gun she could discern holstered beneath his shoulder. He sipped his beer slowly. His eyes seemed unfocused and disinterested in the activity surrounding him.

"James," she called to the bartender, "can you bring me another?" She held up her empty glass and jiggled it back and forth.

"Of course, Your Highness. I aim to serve."

She gave him a quick smile and continued to observe the mystery man in the mirror. He wasn't one of the regulars. What was he doing here?

James put down a fresh napkin and with a flourish placed her drink in front of her. "My queen." He bowed.

"We thank you, Lord James," she said in a stuffy Victorian imitation.
James snorted.

The stranger glanced up at her briefly, and they made eye contact in the mirror. He broke the contact first. She continued to watch his reflection.

Oh, what the hell! She stood up from the barstool, turned and walked to his table.

"Mind if I sit?"

"Suit yourself," the man answered as his hand indicated the chair across from him.

"My name's Kelly. You?"

"Emmet."

She tucked her chin and pulled her head back. "Emmet? Don't hear that one much anymore."

He gave her a bored shrug. She supposed he'd heard that a few times.

"If you're looking for a cheap thrill, you've come to the wrong place, buddy. This is a quiet, neighborhood bar." She pulled the chair out and sat while he nodded acknowledging her words. "So what brings you here?"

He studied her for a moment, and she liked the feel of his eyes on her. His only answer was a shrug.

"Well, aren't you quiet as a church mouse?" she prompted but got no response. She took a deep gulp of her drink and put the empty glass down on the table.

"You a cop?" she asked.

He snorted and shook his head from side to side. "Hardly."

She caught his eyes with her own and held them. "Are you in trouble?" She observed the tiny muscles around his eyes contract, but he said nothing.

"James," she called out, "bring me and my new friend, Emmet, another round, will you?"

She turned back to the handsome man. "You live around here? Little beads of perspiration began to dot his brow. She smiled. "I live just a couple of blocks over." She tilted her head off to her right. "We had some excitement a couple of hours ago -- shooting over on 9th Street, not far from here." Her smile dropped away as she scrutinized him carefully. She could see the pulse in his temples quicken. "You know anything about that?"

Her right hand moved from her lap, slowly down to her ankle. When she saw his hand began to move, she pulled her gun from the ankle holster and trained it on him. He started to reach for his gun. "Don't try it, Emmet." She rose slowly, kicking the chair out from under her, keeping the gun pointed at his head.

Her left hand pulled her badge from her pocket. "You're under arrest, Emmet. Suspicion of murder. You have the right..."



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