"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” JD asked.
I gave a grim nod. I had a lot of questions for Riley if I ever talked to her again.
We hopped into the Porsche, and I pulled up Riley's address from the DMV. She lived in the Coronado. It was an upscale midrise not far from the marina.
We hurried over to the building and pulled up to the main entrance. The valet hustled around and grabbed Jack’s door. He gave the attendant a few bills and told him to keep the car up front. "We won't be long."
I flashed my badge at the glass double doors, and the concierge buzzed us in. We rushed across the lobby, took the elevator up to the fourth floor, and banged on unit #422.
There was no answer.
I knocked again and shouted, "Riley, it's Tyson."
There was still no response.
Dread began to creep in. What if Vladimir’s thugs had gotten to her already?
After banging on the door again, we left and headed back down to the lobby. We stepped outside and climbed into the Porsche. The valet had kept it up front as asked.
We left the Coronado and drove to Oyster Avenue. We found a place to park, hopped out, and strolled the sidewalk to the Emerald Lounge.
At this time of the morning, there wasn't much of a crowd, but it would fill up soon for the lunch buffet. Gorgeous beauties danced on stage, and the thump of pop music pounded.
I looked around for familiar faces, hoping to spot the entertainer who had been the object of Wade’s affection for most of the evening last night.
Rebel slithered up and down an overjoyed client. Her perky form mesmerized. That girl stayed busy in a place like this.
We approached and hovered nearby as the minx brought her customer to his limit. I flashed my badge, and her face soured.
“We need a word when you’re finished.”
Concern filled her eyes.
25
JD and I proceeded to a nearby table and waited for Rebel to finish her performance. When she was done, she fell into the guy’s lap for a moment and chit-chatted. She pulled on her lacy black bra and took his money.
At the start of the next song, she thanked him for his patronage, gave him a kiss on his cheek, then hopped up and strutted in our direction. She plunked down in an empty seat at our table and gave us both an annoyed look. “What do you want? That guy is a good customer, and I’ve got him on the hook right now. I know he’s good for another hundred or two.”
“We’ll be brief,” I said.
I showed her Wade's picture on my phone. "He was in here last night."
She smirked. "I remember him. Kinda cute. Spent a lot of money.”
"He's dead.”
Her eyes rounded. "What!?”
"What time did he leave here?”
“I don't know. We went back to the Champagne Room, and we spent about 45 minutes together.”
"Then what?”
"He left a happy man.”
"What happened in the Champagne Room?” I knew better than to ask.
