A/N: I own nada, zilch, zero.
REVISED 07.01.07

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Greg had been knocking them back for almost an hour. He had been primary on the last case, so he had examined a little girl’s room for the evidence of who had molested, raped, and killed her. So he had found evidence that her grandfather had molested her, that her brother had raped her, and that her father had killed her, in that order, and with seemingly all three unaware that the others had defiled a sweet little eight-year-old as well.

The bartender put the next drink in front of him with no prompting. Greg raised his eyebrows.

“The blond paid,” said the ‘tender, jerking his head to the end of the bar. Greg’s eyes skimmed appreciatively past two attractive brunette women, but landed inevitably on a bleached-blond man with hair and clothes to put Billy Idol to shame. Billy Idol gave him a little wave, and Greg turned back to his drink, shaking his head.

Typical of his day.