“Something will turn up,” G-ma said. “Nobody burns down a house and disappears.”
THE NEXT EVENING,Carrera entered Blue Suit ready to execute their plan. He’d worn a body-hugging, short-sleeved shirt that stretched against his muscles, and tight pants. Slash had suggested he show off his tats, something Karen had never seen. She also told him to bring his helmet inside with him. This Carrera had a gritty, more dangerous vibe. Slash was confident Karen—and every other woman in the club—would be drawn to him.
He didn’t give a fuck about them. He was doing this—all of this—for Slash.
He slid onto a barstool, set his helmet on the stool beside him, ordered a top-shelf whiskey, neat.
“If you’re looking for Slash, she isn’t here,” said the bartender.
“No problem,” he said. “I’m Claude.”
The bartender nodded. “Bradley.”
Carrera sipped the drink while Bradley waited on other clubbers. Five minutes later, Alexandra Wilde pulled up beside him. He glanced over, did a double take, and shot her a smile.
“Alexandra, Claude Amos,” Carrera said.
“Claude, good to see you.”
He set his helmet on the bar. “Join me.”
“I’m sorry your story got delayed,” she said. “The magazine publisher pushed it back a month.”
“All good. What brings you by?”
“Several dancers here have gone missing.”
“That’s not good.”
“I wanted to interview some of the employees.”
Carrera waved over the bartender. “Can you talk to journalist Alexandra Wilde?”
“’Bout what?” Bradley asked.
“The dancers who’ve gone missing.”
Bradley furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about?”
“Yeah, seven women who worked here all vanished,” Alexandra explained.
“We’ve had a high turnover lately, but the GM said they’d ghosted.”
“I’d love to get you on the record,” Alexandra said.
“Let me get Karen.” Bradley made a call. “Hey, boss, a reporter has some questions for you.” Bradley hung up. “She’ll be right over.”
A quick minute later, Carrera caught Karen beelining toward the bar.
Turning toward Alexandra, he murmured, “Here we go.”
“Bradley!” Karen called out. “Where is she?”
Bradley pointed to Alexandra.
Karen pulled up behind Alexandra. “I’m Karen Woodside, General Manager. What’s going on?”
“Alexandra Wilde.” Alexandra mentioned the television station she worked for, along with the nationally syndicated crime show that she hosted. “I’d like to talk with you about the women who’ve gone missing from Blue Suit.”
