<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 16pt;"><em>Jacqueline Meredith Blakesley</em></span> <br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><em>Homicide Inspector Out Of Her Element - <strong> P3, Tagging Paisley and the rest.</strong></em></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><em>'To seek a witch, rumoured to be blessed not once but twice.'</em></span></span></div><hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://tinyurl.com/867s24h)</div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Jacqueline watched as the bar emptied of people and constantly filled with it - though there was a group in particular she'd had her eye upon.  They seemed to fit the descriptions that her father had given her - even though the very idea that she'd been essentially forced to accept his assistance would be something she would have to deal with later.  Now she had at least three mysterious murders on her hands likely the result of evil looking to take an upper hand on the grand scheme of things.  The thought that this would end up being all business at least was a minor solace, though of course it hardly meant that the Inspector couldn't enjoy the atmosphere of the club ... at least a little.  They were merely witches, and all she had to do was convince them that something wicked was afoot ... and that she herself was not part of it.<br/><br/>With any luck, none of them would be so well informed to have the faintest idea to tie her own name to that of the centuries old half-demon Joscelin.  Raking her hand through her hair again, Jack rose to her feet, and moved to the bar, close enough to the group that just maybe she might be noticed, but not so much as to appear quite rude. Straightening her soft red skirt that flowed over her knees, she hopped up on one of the stools with slight difficultly and a curse in fluid Mandarin - then shot a thin, and somewhat nervous smile at the pretty blonde <em>(Paisley)</em> that seemed determined to get her relatives very drunk.  Her fingers moved along the odd, silvering scar upon her lower jaw.  <br/><br/>"Apologies, its rather crowded in here, and they don't seem to make these stools for the vertically challenged," she said softly, nerves making evident her blended heritage.  <br/><br/>"Is it always like this?  You seem as though you might be a regular, and an ... organised one," noting that she'd elected to go for a tab rather than paying per drink.  "Most people that go for a tab are at least relatively well off, and aren't concerned about the details of what they mind spend, or perhaps enjoy the record keeping of a credit card company." It was of course an observation she'd often made as a result of working - and people with credit card were much easier to track financially, which often lead to the breaking of a case.  Her thin smile curved to a faint smirk as she braced her feet on either side of the stool for balance. <br/><br/>Jack tugged a bit on her left sleeve, and asked the bartender for another gin and tonic - top shelf.  "I ... I hope I am not intruding.  It's only that your group seems to be the ... life of the party."  Her eyes went back to her tablet e-reading device, and she pressed a small button to turn a page.  She smiled as her drink was slid down the bar, and caught it with one hand in a smooth, quick motion that didn't disturb a drop of her drink.  To those that might notice the movement revealed the outline of a holster beneath her cream coloured blouse, as well as the badge on her hip.  Taking a sip, she lifted her drink to the other ladies, and the tall gentleman down the bar from her.  The bright red edging of a tattoo peaked from beneath her long sleeves, and one as well was apparent along the back of her neck in Chinese characters, disappearing down into her blouse.</span>