Chapter 15

15

Special Agent Fallon Baxter

T he Velvet Lounge Gentlemen's Club pulses with life as we step inside, the dim lighting casting everything it touches in shades of crimson and gold.

Loud music thumps through the crowded space. A deep bass that you feel more than hear vibrates right through the soles of your shoes. Strobe lights flicker, catching on the shimmering dresses of the dancers as they move and groove on the main stage. Their bodies sway with a greed that practically sucks the dollar bills right out of the wallets of the poor fools rushing the stage.

A waitress, wearing nothing more than a couple of neon pasties and a G string to match, walks by with a platter full of nachos.

"I'll admit, the nachos look good," I say.

"Were there nachos?" Jack teases, or not.

"Down, boy," I say. "We're on a mission. Or at least I am."

"It does involve my brother. You're not getting rid of me that easily." He scans the crowd. "There they are." He nods to the corner and, sure enough, I see Riley and Jet huddled over a platter of nachos, surrounded by a couple of fruity cocktails as well, and we make a beeline in their direction.

Riley looks up and pauses from shoveling in a bite of tortilla covered in orange goo. "Oh good, you're here," she says, jumping over a notch in the booth to make room for me.

Her hair is curled and teased every which way, à laan ode to the eighties, and she's donned an electric blue dress that enlivens her best features.

I'm not sure I care for the fact Riley has decided to enliven any part of her while out with Jack's brother. I'll have to get her alone later and ask what the heck she's thinking. I mean, she did dump Ryan, so technically she's single but still. Jet?

I land next to her and Jack lands next to Jet—who also looks impeccably put together. And I can't help but frown because of it.

"Glad to see you're enjoying yourselves." Jack doesn't look amused. "What the heck were you thinking coming out here, tracking down a mobster?"

"A henchman," I correct. "Although same difference," I say sharply to my older, not wiser, sister. "This man is dangerous, Riley. He's a seasoned pro at making people disappear. Do you really think our mother needs two daughters that are MIA?"

She clams up because she knows I'm right.

Jack eyes those glowing cocktails with more than a modicum of suspicion.

"Don't worry," Riley is quick to tell him. "They're virgins. Probably the only virgins in this place."

Jet sputters out a laugh and Riley joins him.

"Okay." Jack steals a nacho. "So what's happening here? Either the two of you have no idea how much danger you're putting yourselves in, and possibly Erin, or you think you're suddenly Nancy Drew."

"Hey, I'm no Nancy." Jet is quick to protest. "I'm a Hardy Boy."

"You're a boy, all right," Jack growls before indulging in his food.

"Where is this guy?" I ask, casting a quick look around. "Where's Marco?"

Jet leans my way. "He's a part owner of the club. He comes here all the time. He's wearing a navy pinstriped suit and he keeps his post behind the bar."

I glance to the bar and see no sign of him.

"Thank you," I say to Jet. "The two of you can leave now. We'll take it from here."

Riley inches back. "We're not leaving. I've never been to a strip club before." She winks my way because we both know it's not true. Ryan used to drag her to all sorts of unsavory places. "This is fun. There's dancing. I like to dance."

I pull back to get a better look at my sister. I'd say that Erin got all of the brain cells that should have gone to Riley, but Erin isn't acting so smart as of late either.

"Riley, these are strippers. You're not stripping tonight, or ever."

She makes a face as she looks in the direction of the stage. "Yeah, but look at the tips."

"So did you find that missing woman?" Jet asks and he seems genuinely interested in the case. A shocker since there are bare-breasted women in the vicinity.

Even Jack seems unable to keep his focus. I'm starting to think Jet has all the brain cells in that family even if they do skew to the darker side of life.

"No," Jack growls. "But we're gathering intel." His eyes meet with mine and I can tell he's pleading with me not to let any details fly.

I nod his way because I agree. Knowing these two, they'll be hunting down our next suspect before we can get to them. And that suspect would be Jewel Barrett. That blonde is as close to the nucleus of the Cole family as you can get. She must know something.

Jet shrugs as he takes a sip of his fruity drink. "I bet you'll find her somewhere obvious. That's usually how those things work out in books."

"Are we back to the Hardy Boys?" Jack doesn't seem amused, but his attention is quickly diverted by something to his right. He hitches his head that way covertly before glancing my way and I look over to see a heavy-set man in a navy pinstripe suit. "Never mind." Jack yanks a wad of ones from his pocket at least two inches thick and quickly hands a swath to both Riley and Jet. "Why don't the two of you head for the stage? Riley, you dance all you want. Jet knock your sick socks off by stuffing some panties."

" Ooh, thanks." Riley practically hurdles over me, and within seconds, both she and Jet are bellied up to the stage and following Jack's instructions to a T.

"What's going on here?" I ask as I nod at the bills left in his hand. "Have ones will travel?"

He takes a moment to frown at me. "I thought I might need to pitch for drinks back at the Oasis."

"For the entire bar?"

"For you, sweetheart." He sheds a short-lived smile. "I had a sneaking suspicion you'd drink like a fish."

I shake my head. "You knew about Marco."

"Okay, so I knew." He slides half his stack my way and I take it. I'm no fool. "Feel free to make it rain."

"As long as it's on your dime," I say. "And I don't see why not. It's not like I'll be coming back. But I have a feeling you will."

He shoots me a look. "Let's go before we lose him."

Jack leads the way as we thread our way through the bodies—mostly women, mostly nude. Jack pauses a moment as he looks toward the stage and I follow his gaze to see Riley rocking out and Jet right there with her, shaking his hips to the funky beat pulsating through the speakers. He's basically putting on a strip tease of his own and Riley seems more than entertained. They're causing such a scene even the dancers on stage are flocking their way.

"His moves are really good," I say. "Why is that?" On second thought, I probably don't want to know.

"It's not his first rodeo."

"It's not hers either."

He nods to the man in the pinstriped suit. "Let's go rope that steer."

"Let's."