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“You’re amazing. You know that, right?” she said, surprising him.
“Huh?” How did she arrive at amazing? He was just hoping for acceptance.
“I like you,” she said and something inside him stirred. “You don’t take advantage of what you have, and you aren’t a snob. I’m a little peeved that you didn’t let me know that you could be an in when it comes to getting me interviews with influential people, but I can let that slide.”
“I’ll get you in the door here,” he volunteered. “How’s that?”
“A good start,” she said as they started walking toward the door. “Is there a lounge where members hang out? That might be the place to start asking questions about Mason.”
“That’s not the best approach here. The members will clam up rather than admit to knowing a guy like him. We need to talk to the staff. They know everything that goes on.” Owen greeted the doorman and signed Sophie in as his guest.“This way.”
“Nice place,” she commented while looking around at the furnishings. He’d never paid much attention to it all. His family had been coming here to golf and socialize since he was a little kid. At sixteen, he’d gotten a junior membership and had, out of habit, maintained it ever since.
“Guess so,” he said. When they were in the doorway of the lounge, he spotted Luke, the bartender that he knew best. A few years back when he was just out of the Navy, a member tried to get Luke fired over a spilled drink. Owen had been sitting at the bar and saw that the member knocked over his own beer. He’d spoken up and defended Luke. Since then, they’d been friends.
Luke spotted him and waved him over. “Good to see you.” They shook hands over the bar. “What can I get for you?” He looked at Sophie, including her in the question.
“Lemonade for me.”
“Same.” Owen lowered his voice. “And when you have a minute, some information.”
“No problem.”
Owen steered Sophie toward the end of the bar where they found seats away from other patrons. A minute later, Luke set two tall glasses of lemonade on the bar. “What can I help you with?”
Owen took out the photograph of Mason and laid it on the bar. “Have you seen him around?”
Luke took one glance and nodded. “Sure have. I’ve seen him in here every once in a while. Not sure who signed him in, but the rumor amongst the staff was that he was dropping off drugs for some of our younger clientele. Either way, he hasn’t been around for a while.”
“No drugs coming in?” Owen doubted that. He’d been around enough to know that plenty of his fellow members, usually the spoiled twenty-somethings, dabbled in drugs.
“Oh, they’re still coming in. Always are. I just don’t know who’s bringing them.”
“Thanks,” Owen said and pocketed the photo. He and Luke talked for another minute before the bartender went to wait on a group of men who’d just come in from golfing.
“This is so frustrating,” Sophie said, sounding discouraged. “Every lead goes dry. The Reddit handle might be helpful, but we didn’t get anything else about the woman claiming to be Helen’s sister, and this looks like another dead end.”
“We know Mason was here, and that designer drugs are coming into the club. That’s something.” Owen took a cursory glance around at the twenty-somethings in the bar. He recognized faces, but he knew none of them well. Not well enough to question without them clamming up.
His gaze paused on one woman. She was a little older—thirties, probably—with dirty blond hair, and a narrow face. She was well dressed, but she still didn’t quite fit in. It was her stance, really. She lacked the casual look of wealthy people who spent their afternoons drinking in the club.
And something else nagged at him. She almost fit the description of the woman posing as Helen’s sister, except for the hair. He shook off the suspicion, deciding that his imagination was probably in overdrive.
Owen drank the last of his lemonade and saw that Sophie’s glass was empty, too. “Let’s go. We’re not going to learn anything else here.” And he had to admit that he was a little uncomfortable, despite his long history at the club. As much as he’d been born into this crowd, they weren’t his people.Not really.
They made it to the hall outside the lounge when a woman’s laughter stopped him cold. Shit.
“Owen,” the woman called.
Too late to run. He put on a smile for his sister-in-law. “Annabelle. Nice to see you.”
“What are you doing at the club in the middle of the day? Shouldn’t you be job searching?”
“I have a job.” He smiled. “I’m working with Sophie.” He made the introductions and hoped that would distract Annabelle. He should have known better.
“Is he your bodyguard?” Annabelle asked Sophie and then laughed at what she thought was a joke. “Seriously, Owen, I mean a real job. Not something that any idiot can do. I don’t know why you're not more ambitious.”
Sophie’s mouth opened, but he gripped her hand and squeezed, trying to send her a message. It wasn’t worth getting worked up about his self-absorbed sister-in-law.
