― Nalla Xavier
We got a crazy perp running wild killing hookers and I'm fighting with my partner Sarah cause I'm worried about a young streetwalker named Flo.
Oh, I know she ain't innocent, but she's only a kid, and Sarah's too damn tarnished herself to feel pity for anybody.
Someone's got to care though, so I guess that's me.
When we come off duty at two, they tell us another hooker’s been murdered down at Queens Quay.
“Coulda been, Flo.” Sarah mutters, sending a fiery dart in my direction.
“You sorry or disappointed?”
She storms off, giving me the finger all the way down the hall.
“”Sweet dreams,” I sing out.
She slams the parking garage door so loud Sarge comes out to check. Sees me, puts two and two together, makes a wheezing laugh and heads back to the desk.
I ride home alone in my Trans Am, wondering how this perp manages to lure workin’ girls in plain sight and no one’s able to make him.
I think of Flo shiverin’ on a street corner and think how nice it’d be to pound my fist out the other side of Warren’s head.
The next night, Sarah’s still distant.
We cruise the streets on the lookout for any clue to this perv, but we’re comin’ up empty. None of the hookers will talk to me, cause they see Sarah’s scowlin’ face.
She’s okay—Sarah—just a bit too much by the book. I know she’s pissed with me, but there’s nothin’ I can do—I’m not gonna let Flo, or any of the girls, be hung out to dry. This guy’s offin’ them faster’n we can keep track.
We end up back on Jarvis Street and I spot Flo and two other girls huddled in a doorway. She makes me and puts her hand down and out—kinda the way bikers acknowledge each other when they pass on the road.
Sarah’s oblivious—totally misses the signal. I pull over and tell her to wait. She eyes me like I’m some kinda pariah.
“Don’t tell me you’re gonna see Flo again.”
“Okay, I won’t—stay here.”
She grabs my wrist. “I don’t like dirty cops—and I don’t like cops bangin’ hookers.”
“You through?” I growl.
She looks away in disgust, like she wants to spit on me.
I get out, do up my overcoat and take my time walkin’ back to the girls, knowin’ Sarah’s watchin’ through the rear-view mirror.
“S’up?” I ask, being wary of her friends.
“You know the creep you’re lookin’ for?”
“Yeah.”
“We figure he’s stalkin’ us. Same guy’s been circlin’ the block for an hour. We get this creep vibe.”
The other two hookers nod—‘bout as wary of me as I am of them.
“Okay, Flo—we’ll keep an eye out—Don’t be a hero.”
“You’re kiddin’, right—like I’d be your bait?”
“Jus sayin’.”
“Yeah, well so am I.” Her face goes hard and the other hookers smirk.
I shake my head and walk away. Don’t know why that hurts, seein’ as I don’t expect hookers to have hearts of gold.
But I also don't expect Sarah to think I'm using Flo, and I don't know what hurts more.