This is for the
The 2021 "Hammered: an Ode to Mickey Spillane" Author Challenge
. It's also a 750 word story, so... the constraints of such a short story, while still trying to get the film noir grittiness, guarantee it won't win any awards, but I hope it at least amuses you. The story is exactly 750 words after the line.
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The office was dark when it started, the shades drawn, and the blues playing from the radio. I could hear the clip-clop of her heels as she walked down the hall to my office. She knocked on my door, something most folks around here didn't. I barked "Come", and she walked in.
Blonde, wearing a green dress, mint in color. Blue eyes, tall, wearing two inch heels, with her hair up in a fancy do. A small beauty mark on her right cheek, ruby red lips. Perfect nails. Legs that showed through the slit of that mint green dress, with a light fur around on her shoulders. She even had a matching handbag. She looked like sex, personified. She was trouble, and she'd crossed my door.
"I need you to find her" she said, in a voice oozing both anger and lust as she sat in the chair across from my desk, slowly crossing her long legs and showing more of the silk encased thighs. I instantly thought about how much I'd like to see of those legs. How much I'd like run my hands across them.
I moved my gaze up to her torso, and adjusted the light on my desk to better illuminate this woman sitting in front of me. She held a steady gaze at me as I looked at the ample cleavage she displayed. A quick diversion glance at her left hand showed the expensive rock on her fourth finger. An amused expression formed on her face as she saw what I was thinking.
I pushed slightly back from my desk, relaxing my gaze at her as I finally reached those blue eyes.
"Who, and where did you last see her? And when do you need 'her' found?" I finally answered, holding her gaze with a steady gaze of my own.
"Now. I need you to find her now" was her lone reply to my questions.