In the office of Police Chief Kurt Crewe, his telephone rings idly nearby. Crewe, sitting in his leather recliner, picks the phone from its cradle at the third ring. Crewe hoists the phone to his ear and speaks.
"Hello," Crewe begins. "This is Police Chief Kurt Crewe. How may I be of assistance?"
"Cut the crap with the formalities," the caller yells. "I call the same time every day, so there's not reason for you to go all professional on me."
"Oh, hello Governor."
"Where are we at with the pictures? Did you find the person responsible?"
"To answer your questions, we have no leads on who took these pictures. And I don't think we will successfully unmask the mysterious photographer, who photographed you and some woman together. Let's just cut to the chase and you can tell who the woman in the picture is."
"How about no, Crewe. The identity of that woman could ruin my career. I know you have the photos in your office right now, Crewe, but I have reason to believe that those are copies of the originals. Even if we do find the person responsible, there's no telling what will happen. If she goes to the papers with these photos, my tenure as this state's governor will be terminated."
"Got ya' Governor."
"No you don't get me. If you find the person responsible for taking these pictures and blackmailing me, you must also recover the original photographs. If you complete this task successfully, I see a big promotion looming in your future. Got me?"
"Yeah."
* * * * *
Johnny Trapper enters the hotel, in which he stayed last night. A rekindling feeling clutches at his stomach, reminding him of the murder he conducted. Trapper killed Kat Dawson, because it was his job. He didn't want to kill her, but he had to. After that murder, Johnny vowed never to accept another contract again, but that all changed when he met with his employer, Paris Leon. Paris is a stunningly beautiful woman, who touched successfully persuaded him to accept one more contract, one offering compensation for the death of Sara Evans, a newspaper reporter with incriminating photographs.
Trapper walks towards the hotel receptionist, and notices that it's a beautiful woman. Her identification tag says 'Liz'. Liz is a strikingly pretty blonde, with her golden locks raised up behind her head, to make her look more professional. Trapper thinks that Liz could look even more beautiful with her lovely hair withdrawn from its present state. Trapper looks Liz in the eye, and gets her to smile that striking smile.
"Hello, Liz," Johnny says. "I am looking for a Sara Evans, who is residing in this hotel. Could you help me find her?"
"Do you have an appointment." Liz asks.
"Um, no, but I'm really good friends with her," Trapper lies. "Look, I just arrived in town today, and she probably wants to see me. Could you please help me out?"
"I'm sorry, but our hotel policy protects the privacy of its tenants. Its our policy not to divulge the whereabouts, unless the tenants themselves call me, and arrange an appointment. And right now, Sara Evans has no appointments. Not today, and not tomorrow."
'Wow', thinks Trapper. 'A stunning woman with an attitude.' Johnny rests his hand on the receptionist's shoulder and smiles at her. Liz smiles back in an erotic way.
"Can I help you?" Liz inquires.
"Maybe," Johnny cunningly responds. "Are you in a relationship, by any chance?"
"I don't think that is any of your business."
"Well, I was just wondering because I wanted to take you out to dinner."
"I won't go out to dinner with you. I'm smart enough to figure out that you are manipulating me into revealing information on the location of one of the hotel's tenants. I will not buy into your mediocre story, so go away."
"Come on...."
"Don't 'come on' me. You're manipulative and cunning, and besides, I am in a relationship."
"Are you lying to me, Liz?"
"No, I am not lying to you. And if you don't leave in the next minute, I'll have no other option but to call security to escort you out of the building."
"I'm not leaving."