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Chapter 2 Blair
Toxic Tonic was a popular bar located northwest of central Las Vegas. Bells loved it because of the local bands and the exotic drinks they served. We came here often since it was one of our favorite spots to hang out. They hung twinkling white lights outdoors, and when it grew dark, they lit up the dance floor and surrounding tables with a pretty glow.
A few weeks ago, I would have entered and headed straight to the bar for a Dirty Little Virgin or a Lick My Pussy Shot. Bells always preferred a Buttery Nipple or Sex on the Beach. Tonight, though, I had other plans.
The crowded bar provided the perfect opportunity to show Bells’ picture and ask if anyone had seen her since the party we attended three weeks earlier. Someone had to know something.
Sure, Las Vegas was the city of sin, and some would agree that what happened here stayed here, but I knew better. Las Vegas dealt in secrets, the taboo, gambling, porn, and money—lots of it. If you had enough, it opened all doors.
If you didn’t, you were shit out of luck.
I caught a guy at the bar eye-fucking me from across the room. He seemed harmless enough in his polo shirt and jeans. He was a little preppy, but that probably meant he didn’t worry about his bar tab. If he offered me a free drink, I wouldn’t refuse.
When I sat beside him, he introduced himself right away.
“I’m Nick. Who are you, beautiful?”
“Kim,” I lied. I never gave any real information to anyone I met at a bar. Years ago, I had a guy stalk me for months. I had to change all my personal information and move. It was a nightmare. Now, I played it safe.
“What would you like to drink?”
“A virgin Strawberry Daiquiri.”
“Virgin?” he laughed, “Alright.”
We flagged the bartender and put in my drink order.
“So, what do you do for a living? Are you a model?”
Uh, no. Models were six feet tall and size zero. I was five-eight and size ten. No comparison. I didn’t tell him that, though. “Nope. I run my own business.”
“Nice. What products?”
“Candles and soaps mostly. I enjoy putting fragrances together.”
“Sounds rewarding.”
“So far, yes.”
The bartender passed me my drink, and I sipped it while I talked to Nick. After we made it through all the pleasantries, I decided to hit him up about Bells. “I’m actually looking for someone tonight.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. She’s missing.”
He frowned. “Shit. A friend of yours?”
“One of my best friends,” I admitted. “You mind if I show you her picture? Maybe you’ve seen her around. She loves this bar.”
“Sure.”
I swiped across my phone and pulled up my photos, tapping on a recent shot of Bells at this bar. It was taken the night before we went to the party at The Venetian. The same night, she never returned home.
