This new club opening was just the thing. Alicia could almost bet this would be the kind of place she would find her quarry. Might as well mix pleasure with business… She dabbed on a bit more shiny lipstick and checked her mirrored image critically. That should do it, she thought as she tucked the tiny gun into her bag…
“Lica, I’m home.”
Cass walked into Alicia’s room and caught sight of the note propped up by the mirror on Alicia’s messy dressing table. The scattering of items there—a box of dusting powder, its lid askew, the small pots of eye shadow and lipstick, a couple of Kleenex bearing blotted kisses—made her smile. Finally Alicia was getting out for some fun; she worked much too hard at her stressful job as a police detective.
Cass tore open the note.
“Gone fishing” was all it said.
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