She was a platinum blonde, the kind that made Mae West look like a wallflower.

She was a platinum blonde, the kind that made Mae West look like a wallflower. That color had been on every dame and high-society broad in this town. Her blue eyes locked onto mine like a predator sizing up its next meal. I didn’t need to hear a word to know she was trouble with a capital T. She slinked towards me, moving like a shark in the water, her breathy voice dripping with venom as she said she needed my help.