“Besides, I want to know something about you now."
She shrugged her slender shoulders absently and I saw them slump a little as she broke eye contact to look out the window.
“What do you want to know?"
“What's it Like pretending to be a hooker every night?"
That got her attention back to me quickly enough.
"I don't do it every night." Her lip curled with irritation.
“Sorry.” I held up my hands for peace.
“I didn't mean anything by it. I just figured it must be interesting. Seeing all the midnight crazies and all that."
The peace gesture settled her expression and she nodded in the affirmative.
"Yeah. There's plenty of that. I meant I'm not a cop who normally does that sort of thing. I'm normally a response officer."
“You mean you're the one that turns up when I dial nine-nine-nine?"
This was interesting, what the hell was a response officer doing at the centre of a sting?
“Yeah, that's me. The guys in homicide are looking for someone who's murdered three prostitutes over the past year. They think he's a local around here and none of them fitted the creep’s type. So they asked me if I wanted some overtime and before you know it I'm squeezing my ass into that skirt every night." She certainly didn't seem too happy about it.
“Wow. So last night when I offered you the hundred..."
“I couldn't say no in front of those two. They'd know I wasn't on the level if I started turning down a free hundred for signing a sheet of paper. Then I had to call it a night early because I made my damn quota."
“You have a quota?" That didn't sound right.
“No, but I told them earlier if I had a fifty I'd go home to bed. I didn't think some idiot would come up and hand me a hundred. I couldn't just turn around after you gave me that and say ‘oh well, back to the salt mines’ could I? They'd know I was bullshitting them."
“Oh, sorry about that then." I felt a Little bit sheepish.
“You damn well should be. I got yelled at by my boss for a full half hour this morning."
“Well, maybe I could help you get the murderer?" I offered.