N - Noir - #AtoZChallenge

Drake Stone fumbled around in his desk looking for another pack of cigarettes. Smoke still hung in the air of his cramped office from his last one. Had he known he was out he would have slowed to enjoy it more.

He stepped to his office door and bellowed, "Sheila, run out and get a carton of Pall Mall, would'ja?

His secretary yelled back, "I'm gonna need money this time. Mr. Stone. Petty cash is getting pretty low."

"Just get a couple of packs then."

Sheila answered, "It's really low."

"One pack?"

Sheila kept typing, "Nope."

"Damn it." Drake plopped back into his chair. Business had dried up like a drunk at an AA meeting. No business meant no money. No money meant he had to dry up too. He still had half a bottle of scotch in the bottom drawer of his desk, but no ice. The mini-fridge had to be unplugged to save power until the money started flowing again. He needed a client quick. No smokes was bad enough. Warm scotch would be even worse.

The phone on his desk split the silence like a scalpel starting a vasectomy. Drake lunged for the phone not waiting for Sheila to get it first. A case. 

"Stone Sleuthing. I can crack it. What can I do for you?"

Another bill collector. Drake slammed the phone down and spun around to cut the A/C. "Gotta start cutting back or we're sunk," he admitted. He reached into the lower drawer on his desk to retrieve the scotch. Ice or no ice, it was time for drink.

He slugged back the first glass and poured another two fingers when Sheila called out, "Someone here to see you, Stone."

Before he could answer, a tall blond with killer legs and "kiss me" lips charged into his office. She walked like she owned the place and Drake figured she was used to getting her way. He noticed the red, puffy eyes immediately and started to greet her when she reached out and took the scotch glass from his hand and downed it in one shot.

She gasped, "Excuse me, Mr. Stone, but if you have more pour me another."

Drake Stone fished out a second glass as he looked her in the eye. She never broke eye contact. Not common for a woman, but he liked it. He started to pour, but paused. "Before I do that, I need to know something, Miss…?"

She tensed, "DuRane…Bobbi DuRane."

Stone smirked, "DuRane, huh? Well, Miss DuRane, you have any smokes on you?"

Bobbi DuRane fished half a pack out of her purse and tossed them on the desk.

Stone picked up the pack and winked, "Virginia Slims? These are girly cigarettes."

Bobbi collapsed into the chair in front of the desk and pouted. "Well, I am a woman. Or didn't you notice?"

Stone lit up one of the tiny cigarettes and leaned back in his chair, "I don't think anyone has ever mistaken you for anything else. So, what can I do to please you, Miss DuRane? Or is it Mrs?"

She leaned in close over the desk reaching for the cigarettes and whispered, "I need your help."

Stone leaned in to match her intensity, "I may not be Sherlock Holmes, but I figured as much. How 'bout a little more detail, darling?"

She leaned in closer, "I think a crime has been committed."

Stone couldn't help but smile. She was going to be fun. "Well, I'm not here to hand out baking recipes. You're at the right place. Why don't you tell me what's troubling you?"

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All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is N for Noir.