The bar.

The bar was quiet only a few regular drinkers, sat at the bar cigarette in hand oblivious to the glances being thrown her way, as soon as he saw her he wanted her. The luscious body the soft skin, the pouting lips and the pert breasts. He couldn't see her eyes they were hidden in the shadows beneath her hair. Her cocktail dress was just slightly to low cut the top of her breasts were visible, the sight of the bare flesh stirring his carnal urges.
She took a drag of her cigarette the smoke easing up past her face, the other hand twirling a book of matches.
He sat on a stool on the other side of the bar, he lent forward and rested his elbows on the counter. Her long legs spread as she went to stand up stretching the material of the dress, he lent to the side slightly and could see into the dark between her legs. She walked past him, on her way to the bathroom. Her sent was amazing, sexual and basic.
Presently she came back, she looked across the bar at him and sent a wink his way. Her long fingers began to play with the rim of the glass, teasing him feeding his urge.
He had to do something, the sight of the tight material hugging her body was driving him wild. He went over, they began the intricate dance or flirting and small talk, she played with her hair and twirled the matches, he made crude innuendos and told useless anecdotes.
The night drew on and the wine flowed, he invited her back to his she said she shouldn't, he insisted told her with the innocence of child how it was only for coffee and no woman should be out in her state. she still declined.

They found her next morning, in an alley near to a bar they say, tied and gagged a torn cocktail dress clinging to her body, her underwear inside out.