The night was young; rain steadily falling down on the dark, dank streets of Riverside, Illinois. Slow jazz music filled the air of the smoked hazed club joint. A beautiful brunette lady dressed in fine silk red sang her heart out, telling how much she missed her man. Low-life's to big crime thugs littered the joint, either coming there to wallow in their pitiful sorrows or to plan illegal schemes with other mob members. The door to the entrance of the smokey bar opened and in came easily striding in a platinum blond woman, by the name of Vanilla Champagne, who was dressed in her regular skirt suit (not including the lady with that hideous necklace), with white high heel pumps, a white clutch bag, and dark silver rimmed sunglasses that plastered her face; her tresses flowing about her middle back in a carefree manner.

She had an air of coolness each step she walked. You would think this lady was as stealth as a lioness, ready to grab her prey with no mercy. Her confidence oozed out every essence of her, conjuring up stares from men who lustfully gazed at her behind cigars that they puffed in succession. The women, on the other hand, glared at her with much contempt, secretly hissing their disdain for the stunning lady, who mostly had her shit together. They wondered, angrily, how she could be so "conceited" and never pay to pay attention to what was going on around her, "Who does she thinks she is, coming in here like that? She thinks she got it all figured out, huh?", one lady blurted, quietly, underneath her breath to her girlfriend as she fanned herself with a menu that was just placed on the table by a bustling waiter.

The platinum blond woman just ignored her and continued her way to her destination- headquarters. Her mind wasn't on to flaunt, which she would do with little hassle, the pants off the dirty man-whoreish bums, who ogled her madly in the joint, her mind was on a case file that was pending for her. This opportunity was a dime a dozen for her and she wanted a "piece of the pie". The cases she was ever assigned to were minor court hearings that had little to no action going on. She would sit and sit all day being a recorder, writing down the whole incident on her notepad. Secretly, though, she would do the worst of the job, going behind the boss's back in the process. Her partner, who was a man of course, did nothing on the job, taking most of the credit and not giving her any type of recognition.

When the court hearing was over and the criminal was sentenced to life for his crime, her partner, Ramsey, thanked her, suggestively, for helping him on the case, "Vanii baby....thank you sweetheart....", he whispered, seductively, in her ear, trying to show his empowerment over her. All she could do was nod and scowl with much contempt for the older man. How dare he insult her like that and all the while never giving her any type of recognition when she did all of the grueling work, he sitting in the background doing nothing with his lazy ass! She could really murder the swine if she wanted to but she was too much of a high class lady who still had her scruples and morals about her. Oh...but in her mind, she was killing him, repeatedly, over and over again, with various types of viscous weapons.

Enough about that! She was a woman on a mission who had better things to think about besides petty situations that really had little to no affect in her life. She reached the steps of the secret headquarters and walked up the flight of stairs. A man passed by the bottom of the steps and immediately tried to take a look underneath her rather short skirt, "Oh the air up there.....", he crooned her softly with pun intended. She turned her head nonchalantly and quipped back with a menacing tone, "Oh! The jackass who has no life down there....", she hissed; her voice rich, smooth, and immensely languid.

He walked away quickly, embarrassed that he was talked back from a lady as herself. Everyone about the room laughed at him snidely as he walked out of the club with his black fedora shielding his face. All she did was smirk at him, for his lack of respect for women, and then continued her walk up the steep steps. Finally at her destination, inside the well lit spacious room of the chief's detective agency office, she took a seat in one of the chairs, tightly crossing her well toned smooth legs. She listened to the whole story and what went down, all the while being cool and calm. That was her best, being cool and serene. She would use this, with manipulation, to ease the enemy before pouncing on them like an untamed wild beast.

She glanced about the room and saw the men with only one other woman. How, secretly, she wished there were more ladies on the squad instead of all male. Women, for years, fought to get those types of jobs that men occupied and tried their best to be more stronger, mentally especially, then a man. Let's just face it, men always had an ego that needed to be stroked and would always put women down for being too weak, for not having physical strength like a man, or too strong, probably for having higher intelligence then them. Women knew that they could do the job correctly as men and probably could do it even better.

Sighing with boredom, she continued to listen to the boss, Samuel Royce, who explained the case that they were all assigned to. She noticed two of the detectives honing and, secretly, studying her and the others, trying to keep a guard stance. It appeared to her that they didn't trust the others, making sure to keep them at bay. She smirked a little at that and continued pretending to be oblivious, which she was brilliant at. Her fatally beautiful looks was what deceived people, putting them quickly off guard. In their minds, they all thought she wasn't a threat and she was just there, in various types of situations, to look "pretty", as some people commented, annoyingly.

But for some reason, she had a sense that these group of people, including her, were the best "top dogs", picked especially by the boss to figure out the Maharaja missing daughter case. She then, thoughtfully, noted to herself to make sure to be doubly on her guard. After the boss got off the phone from an urgent call, one of the detectives asked him who was screaming on the other end of the line, "That was the Mayor. There's been some kind of incident at the Museum apparently. The Maharaja's daughter went missing. Get your shit, we're taking a cab", he said to him and the others, with much sternness in his voice. Everybody got up from their seats and trudged out the room.

Now outside, everyone huddled inside the car. She winced, a little, at the thought of being squeezed on the end in the back seat of the taxi so she situated herself, comfortably, on the end while taking off her shades and putting them in her clutch bag, immediately glancing out the window. The ride was short, well at least to her, as the car speedily went down the road, reaching to it's destination swiftly. Rain was lightly coming down; the lights from various buildings shining the inside of the car, every now and then. They finally came to their stop with everybody getting outside the car. Vanilla put her dark shades back on and immediately scanned and studied the museum area, toying with her platinum chain necklace with french manicured fingers. This was going to be an interesting case and Vanilla was going to be delighted, amusingly, at the prospect of it.