The neon glow from the bar’s sign flickered across the parking lot as he sat in the unmarked cruiser just beyond the lot’s edge, engine low and patient. Nights like this were easy pickings folks stumbling out after one too many, keys in hand, thinking they could make it home without trouble. He watched the steady trickle of people heading to their cars, fingers drumming lightly on the wheel while he waited for the right one to bite.
A woman made her way toward a nearby vehicle, steps a little unsteady under the dim lights. He eased the cruiser forward without lights or siren, pulling up smooth alongside her driver’s side and rolling down his window.
“Evening,” he called out, voice carrying that familiar rough edge, casual as if they were just bumping into each other at the corner store. “You figuring on driving home tonight? ’Cause from where I’m sitting, you look like you might wanna think that one over real careful.”
He let the words hang there, eyes steady on her while the cruiser idled, already sizing up how this little chat might play out whether she’d play ball or if it’d be worth turning on the lights and seeing what kind of deal they could shake loose. The distant thump of bass from inside the bar mixed with the quiet click of his turn signal as he kept the position locked, giving her just enough space to feel the weight of the question.