Rock-a-bye Baby

Alex squinted in the sudden twilight of the bar as he entered from a sunny street. He blinked his eyes for a few seconds as he waited for them to adjust to the persistent dark world. He could make out a few of the regulars hunched over their scotch at the bar, the fine gentlemen who waited until the respectable time of 4:00 p.m. to begin their nightly fueling. Alex felt his way along the booths across from the bar, nodded at the bartender who was swishing a dirty rag around inside a highball glass, and spotted a young lady sitting at a table in the corner, just where she promised she’d be. She had spotted him at the door and watched him approach with wide eyes, her fingers twisting the stem of her half-finished glass of wine.

“Señorita,” he said, tipping his hat, “this seat taken?”

She shook her head and nodded to the chair.

“¿Que onda?” Alex said, smiling. The young lady slipped a piece of paper to Alex. He calmly put his hand on top of hers, gave it a squeeze, then slid the paper out from under her fingers. He placed it in his pocket.

“You need a safe place?”

“There is no such thing,” she sighed, and a fearful tear scurried down her face to hide in her collar.

Alex squeezed her hand again, dropped a fifty on the table, and left the bar.

Diane returned to her desk from the squad bathroom. She reached around to where her purse was hanging on the back of her chair and pulled out a piece of gum. Diane sat rubbing her stomach and rubbed her temples with her other hand. She had read that same paragraph at least six times.

“Diane?”

“Yeah, boss.”

“Come on in,” Tony Rodriguez said, leaning out his open door. Diane nodded and stood to enter his office.

“So, what’s up with you? You seem to be going to the bathroom a lot, and chewing a lot of gum these days.”