Hopping bars and getting paid for it. Sometimes life as a security specialist isn’t that bad. I was visiting the bars and clubs of Hollywood looking for one certain, special girl. Not because I was looking for romance, but because I was looking for a blackmailer.
Blake Trainor had been a chemist for years, working to create perfumes for one of the bigger giants in that industry. The formulas for these perfumes are well-guarded secrets. Somebody wanted Trainor to reveal them. He’d been divorced just a few months ago and looking for someone to make him forget his loneliness. Or probably he was just horny. Anyway, he went club hopping in Hollywood a week ago and met this incredibly hot young girl that seemed to be totally into him. He took her home and slept with her. When he woke up she was gone. There was a note on his bed that explained he’d just been sleeping with a minor and pictures had been taken of their little tryst. He was to e-mail all his formulas to a hotmail-address or the pictures would go to the police.
Trainor had no intention of going to prison, he was a pencil-neck geek.