Mika Model Paolo Bacigalupi
The girl who walked into the police station was oddly familiar, but it took me a while to figure out why. A starlet, maybe. Or someone who’d had plastic surgery to look like someone famous. Pretty. Sleek. Dark hair and pale skin and wide dark eyes that came to rest on me, when Sergeant Cruz pointed her in my direction.
She came over, carrying a Nordstrom shopping bag. She wore a pale cream blouse and hip-hugging charcoal skirt, stylish despite the wet night chill of Bay Area winter.
I still couldn’t place her.
“Detective Rivera?”
“That’s me.”
She sat down and crossed her legs, a seductive scissoring. Smiled.
It was the smile that did it.
. . .
