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Ugh. Had a herd of wildebeests stampeded over her back during the night? Amber stretched. And groaned. Maybe she should have slept in with her mother after all. Though she had a hunch that bed wouldn’t have been any better.
Besides, sleeping on this damn couch was nothing compared to what awaited her today.
Rachel’s.
Marta.
She had nothing to bargain with, nothing to say. She still didn’t even know the web site URL. She’d tried calling Blake to get it before she left town, but he hadn’t picked up his phone.
She steeled herself. She had to try. She couldn’t allow herself to be exploited any longer. What they were doing was illegal. She’d thought of calling the cops, but then it’d be splashed all over the news.
And the rodeo queen would fall.
To think, when she’d become rodeo queen, she thought she’d truly left her past behind her.
Think again, Amber.
Karen had no car. Amber whipped out her tablet and hoped like heck she could piggyback onto someone’s Wi-Fi.
Eureka. There was an unsecured network in the area. She searched the bus schedules. Nothing convenient. She sighed. She’d have to use some of her cash to rent a car. It’d be cheaper than taking cabs everywhere. She should have done it yesterday when her flight got in, but she’d thought Karen would have a car she could use.
So much for trying to save money. Now she was out yesterday’s cab fare, and she had to get to the airport to rent a damn car. The bus would be good for that at least. She could catch one in an hour.
Karen was still passed out. Amber brewed some coffee—mental note, stop at grocery store and get some decent coffee—and ate a granola bar she’d packed in her bag. Mental note—also get decent food in the house. She’d get some money from Karen later—if she had any.
Amber took a quick shower and dressed. Still Karen had not budged. She scrawled a quick note and left it on the kitchen table where she hoped Karen would see it. Then she walked to the bus stop.
In less than two hours, she’d rented an economy car and was on her way to Rachel’s.
With a giant lump in her stomach.
The hour wasn’t quite noon. Would anyone even be there? Marta might. Her heart thudded. What would she say to Marta? What was the name of the other girl who had been there that night? Marta’s roommate? She hadn’t seen her again after that night.
But Marta—Marta was always there.
Amber knew she’d still be there, at Rachel’s, feigning motherliness and making extra cash by drugging innocent girls.
Disgust—for Marta, and yes, for herself—clutched at her as she drove behind Rachel’s and parked her car. If it were possible, this block on the edge of downtown looked even seedier than she remembered.
She’d dressed modestly in jeans and a high-necked blouse. Not the best idea. Texas heat sweltered in late April. Texas heat always sweltered.
What had she been thinking?
She swallowed and gathered all the courage she possessed deep in her gut. She sure as hell would need it.
She left the car, locked it, and steamed forward.
The back door was open, as usual. It was always open for the merchants who delivered food and drink.
The back hallway was dark and windowless, much like the dancers’ dressing room. She walked
through quickly, trying hard to gain bravery as she went.
Guess she’d have to fake it.
Two male figures emerged in the darkness. Not tall enough to be Oscar, the bouncer. Oscar would still be there. He was an institution at Rachel’s. He’d been there for nearly twenty years.
Definitely male. They were talking to another man and a woman.
