She had a voice like molasses, and if she looked as good as her voice sounded, he was in trouble. Deep trouble. Doc swallowed hard and gripped the phone tighter to his ear.

“Miss Maple, huh?”

“That’s me, sugar.”

“Alright, Miss Maple, when can we meet?”

“How’s about tomorrow night?”

“Sure thing. When and where, toots?”

“You’ll know.”

“Wait, how—?”

“Ciao.” And with that, she hung up and Doc was left sitting at his desk with the phone pressed to his skull like a brainless monkey. His laughter rang out in the empty office as he hung up the phone. Things were finally getting interesting again.

Friday, 5:31 pm
It had been a busy day, nothing like yesterday. The phone kept ringing off the hook and by the afternoon, Doc was ready to hang up his hat and call it a day.

“Hey, Doc, this telegram arrived for you.” Dolly, his gum-chewing, tobacco-smoking secretary handed him a slip of paper and waltzed back out of his office.

Doc opened it up. It read: “Meet me at The Moonlight Cafe. 8 PM. Come alone.”