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I went out there again, my usual time, because people really started showing up around eleven.
There were blankets out there, a snack pile, and I never had to worry about being quiet because the music from the nightclub was somewhat loud, especially when the doors opened, but it was mostly the people or the traffic. Where I sat on the patio, I was half-hidden by a post and who’d be looking where I was? The windows behind me were all dark. The only time any light shone out was when I’d open the door to go in and out, but tonight, I was having a drink, my snacks next to me, when I saw a vehicle pull up.
The bouncers approached, their radios in hand. One went to the front passenger door. The window rolled down. They were talking.
This didn’t happen. People rolled up in their cars and got out, then went to the bouncers to get let in. There was none of this where the bouncers went to the vehicle. I expected it to be a quick convo of yes, they can come in or no, keep moving. That didn’t happen.
The main bouncer guy was having a whole conversation, speaking into his radio. Then, a guy from inside the club came out. He looked all official, and he joined the conversation.
The back window was lowered. The official guy went to have a conversation.
I was riveted.
I wrote down the license plate. Then the official guy and bouncer began backing away from the vehicle, shaking their heads. Their hands were out. They were yelling.
A shot rang out, and the vehicle sped off.
I gasped.
The official guy was down.
The bouncer dropped to his side, his radio in hand, and more security people rushed from the nightclub.
People were screaming. Half the line ran off. The other half—I was fairly certain most were regulars—stayed put to watch the newest action.
Within a few minutes, two cop cars pulled up.
The whole neighborhood was lit up red and blue. An ambulance arrived a bit later.
My phone started ringing. Ashton calling.
I went inside and answered. “Hello?”
“Tell me you are not outside, watching Octavia.”
There were loud sounds from his end. “Where are you?”
“I’m coming to you, but you’re inside. Right? Right, Molly?”
I glanced back. The door was shutting. “Yep. Totally inside.”
He groaned. “You just came inside, didn’t you?”
“I refuse to answer that question on the basis that I might incriminate oneself.”
“You’re not—this isn’t a joke. Octavia’s people called. It’s the night manager who was shot, and they’re saying it’s from our end. I have to know—” His end suddenly got a lot clearer. “Are you inside or not?”
“I am.”
“Where’s Eze? Elijah is trying him, and he can’t find him.”
My stomach dropped down to my feet, and I turned, slowly, as if that would ward anything off—but he wasn’t there. “I don’t know.”
“Get out of there! Now!”
“Ahhh.” I was running, not sure where I was running, but I was running. This was supposed to be a safe place. Had my pizza orders tipped them off? Had someone decoded the stool pigeon encryption? What was happening? But I heard the toilet flush, and I stopped, my heart pounding.
The door opened.
I began easing backward.
Eze came out, grimacing. He saw me in the hallway, plastered against one wall, the phone glued to my face. “What is it?”
“Is that Eze?”
I held the phone out. “For you.”
He frowned, hurrying and grabbing the phone. I began easing backward all at the same time. “Hell—” He reached into his pocket, pulling his own phone out. “It’s dead. I have no signal.” A whole different awareness came over him. “What?” He raced to the patio door, peering out. “Cops. Ambulance. Crowds. I’ll lock down here, but I think we’re good. Her phone has a signal.” He moved to find me.
I was all the way in the back, as far away from him as possible.
He spoke into the phone, wincing at me. “She’s here. I’ll lock down. We’ll move locations.”
A thought came to me. “Wait.”
“What?”
I hurried back. “Give me the phone.”
He did, leaving right after, and I heard him engage all the locks on the door.
“What is it?” From Ashton.
“I was outside.”
He cursed on his end. “I didn’t want you to be out there.”
“I saw it.”
“Saw what?”
“The shooting. The car. I saw it. Why do the Octavia people say it was from our end?”
“Because someone in that vehicle said they worked for us and wanted to get inside.”
“That’s a lie.”
“What?”
“I saw the whole thing. It was weird. The people wanting to go inside just go inside, or they get turned away. This vehicle had the staff go to them. They talked, and they were arguing, and then the manager guy was shot. It wasn’t us.”
“I’m aware it wasn’t us. Thank you.”
I ignored Ashton’s dry tone, saying, “I got the license plate number too.”
