ANGEL



They sat at the George Jetson silver table. In fact the whole bar had the look of the 50’s version of the future. Everyone at the bar tried to pretend like they appreciated the decor, as if that made them more trendy.

She gave all the obvious signs of flirting. The occasional giggle, flip of the hair, lean forward to give him a glimpse of her breasts. He did his part too. Flip of a zippo at the sight of her cigarette, a brush of the hand to seem romantic, eyes steadfast on hers as if he was only interested in what she had to say.

“I am so glad I met you”, she had to say into his ear because of the loud music.

“A girl as beautiful as you should never have to sit at a bar alone.”

Jesus Christ, she thought, his lines came straight from “Picking up a girl for stupid people.”

“You’re too sweet”, she said said with eyes down.

“Want to get out of here?”

“I should really go home, I have an early day tomorrow.”

“Just one drink I  promise. I only live about 5 minutes from here.”

“Ok” she smiled, “one drink.”




They arrived at his house exactly 5 minutes later.
The house fit him perfectly. Slick  angles, polished sable colored furniture, everything in its place. You could tell he had a maid from the lack of dust. It looked like the typical metro-sexual  bachelor pad.

“Your drink my lady”, he hander her a Cosmo.

She took a sip and that was the last thing she remembered.

The next morning she woke up confused. It took her a few seconds to remember where she was. She looked over at her Casanova as a mishevious grin covered her face. She let out a moan and stretched.

The sheet fell to the floor in a puddle at her feet as she stood up. Naked, she went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Ten minutes later she emerged dressed except for her shoes which were no where in sight. She dropped to her knees and looked under the bed.

“Shit.”

She looked at the red stain that had seeped onto the knees of her pants. It was a brand new $300 pant suit. She did not remember drinking wine, but then again she did not remember much of last night. She spotted her shoes by the door, picked them up, and left just as the sun was coming up.
Detective Vanz arrived on the scene about 30 minutes after the first cop had resonded to the 911 call.

“Hey Vanz, we got another one. Same MO as the last five, right down to the pink lipstick heart on the victims chest.”

“Thanks Rudy.”

Vanz started to walk away and then turned back.

“Rudy, everything wiped clean again?”

“Looks that way. I’ll call you as soon as I am finished.”

This girl was good. Too good, Vanz sighed. He had been on her trail for a little over one year now. She left behind no evidence and followed no  pattern.

He stepped into the bedroom being careful  not to disturb the bloody foot prints, and looked at the guy tied to the bed. Poor son of a bitch, he never knew what hit him.

Vanz walked over to examine the dead man and knew it was going to be a long day.