Pulpy noir piece

This is just a scene I scribbled down waiting for a flight...

She walked through the front door like she owned the place, her spiked heels clicking a steady rhythm on the marble floor as she made her way towards the back tables. She threw a quick nod to the barkeep Mickey, who instantly stopped whatever he was doing to grab a glass and a bottle of Jameson. A whiskey girl, who would have guessed? Certainly not me, I thought to myself as I swirled around the ice cubes in my own cheap gin and tonic. Mulroney had been sure to give me a description of this lady, but he didn’t mention that she would be so beautiful.

I watched her walk by my table. She was slowly removing her gloves, and she had her eyes fixed on someone or something in the crowd of people behind me. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she passed by. She wore a stunning black dress, strapless and flowing, and her long red hair spilled over her toned shoulders. Her green eyes gave her an otherworldly glow. My gut was telling me she was trouble but my brain wasn’t listening at all.

Mickey delivered her drink as she stopped to talk with two men in suits several feet away from my table. I couldn’t make out what they saying - too much noise, too much smoke, too many passers-by. It didn’t matter, though; I knew I would be seeing her again very soon. Three people were dead, and you can’t go too far in this no good town when there are questions that need to be answered.

I put out my cigarette, downed the last of my drink, and headed for the door. As I grabbed my coat and hat, a familiar chill gripped me momentarily. I knew this woman could potentially be very dangerous. She might even be involved with the murders of three people. Why was I still thinking about her dress? I chuckled a bit and shook away that feeling of foreboding. After all, I’ve always been a sucker for a redhead, nothing more.