Mike Batista, opened the Broadcast with a neighborhood atmosphere and three master chefs on duty.  Set in the trendy Lakewood Drive section of Stark City, the Broadcast offers top-notch food and drink, and caters to all walks of life (much to the chagrin of the social elites who frequent the neighborhood).  Photos of major world events dot the walls, and there is even a working photo booth where folks can have their pictures taken.  Mike has cultivated certain types of regulars, and the Broadcast has become a favorite after-hours hangout (and gossip clearinghouse) for reporters, lawyers, cops and public officials.

"Welcome to Broadcast," cheerfully states the hostess.  She wears a dark grey fedora and light trench coat, giving her the appearance of a stereotypical reporter.  With a flourish, she opens a notepad and asks, "Will you be joining anyone?  We have plenty of room at the bar, or I can find you a table if that is your preference."

Dwight walks in, eyeing his fellow regulars, and nodding to each one in greeting.

"I'll take a seat at the bar hun." Dwight replied to the waitress.  After being seated at the bar, he takes a moment to look at the menu.  He'd hit it big during his last case, making $1200 for finding a rich man's kid.  He wanted to know how much to spend here as he still had rent to pay, and they were coming at him like rabid dogs for the back rent.

Finally he decided, "I'll have the T-Bone steak, medium rare, garlic roasted potatoes, and a beer to wash it all down with."

The bar tender sets down a beer in front of Dwight.  "Say, aren't you that PI that has those late night commercials on WKBR, during those tabloid talk shows?" he asks.  "You've got that jingle," he begins to sing, "Something, something, something, private eye.  I'm your guy."  It's wasn't a bad rendition, but there was a reason he was behind a bar and not singing on stage at the Blomquist Regal Theater.  "How's it go?"

"Must be new here I take it?  My ex-girlfriend came up with the jingle, now I'm kind of stuck with it.  It's 'If you're in trouble, if you need help, I'm the private eye, I'm your guy'. "

Clearly embarrassed by Dwight's comment, the bartender forced out a chuckle.  "Let me go check on your food," he mumbled as he retreated towards the kitchen.

Mike, the owner of the Broadcast, intercepted the bartender and they shared a few words.  The bartender continued on to the kitchen, but Mike made his way towards Dwight.  "I understand that you're the detective that located the Donovan kid.  Nice work there," he said.  "I've not had the pleasure of being officially introduced.  I'm Mike Batista, owner of the Broadcast."  He reached to shake Dwight's hand.

"Thanks.  Nice to meet you too.  Always nice to be appreciated for what you do."  Dwight said, wondering how, he as a regular, had not met Mike before.

"I see you around here frequently.  I'm sorry I haven't taken the time to get to know one of my regulars," Mike apologized.

The bartender slipped the steak dinner between Mike and Dwight.  "Let me know if you need anything.", said the bartender.

Mike leaned against the bar after the bartender moved down the bar to serve another patron.  "I have a friend that's looking for some help. He has a hobby of collecting antiquities. Seems someone is interested in one of his pieces, in the aggressive way.  Anonymous threats, that kind of thing.  Is that something in your wheelhouse?

"As long as we're talking legal acquisation on your friend's part, yes this is in my wheelhouse.  I can offer him protection." Dwight answered leaning into the bar to whisper it so as not to be overheard.

Mike turns around to the taps and fills a pint.  Over his shoulder he said to Dwight, "That's good to hear.  I let him know to give you a call."  He put the beer down in front of Dwight.  "This one's on me.  Got a business card?"

Dwight slips him a credit card while eating his steak.  He wasn't sure what the cops would think with him doing business right under his nose.  There was no apparent animosity from the police towards him, and there was none from him towards them, but he had just solved one of their bigger cases.  Things like that may not settle too easily.

Mike ran the card and returned it to Dwight.  "It was a pleasure," Mike said.  "I hope to continue to see you around."

((OOC: I'll pick things up in your prelude.))