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With my curiosity officially piqued, I press further. “What happened?”
Hawk shrugs. “Don’t know exactly, but it was something about his missing sister. He was ranting and raving about Decker to anyone who'd listen. Making claims he had no business making.”
“Yeah? What was he saying?”
“You know what the crazies are like. It was crap. He kept saying his sister had been taken and Decker knew where she was. He was ranting that Decker was responsible. Then he started in on Justin when he knew he was about to be kicked out. It’s all just tweaker bullshit. That’s what Justin said anyway.”
“When was this? I’m surprised I missed it,” I say, keeping my voice light but inside, I'm feeling anything but relaxed.
“Saturday.” Hawk's brows bunch. “Did you not see it on the cameras? Thought you spent most of your time in the control room these days?”
I shrug nonchalantly, hoping that my voice doesn't betray my unease. Saturday night was when Decker and Marlee were in the VIP lounge. The same night Justin made an unexpected appearance and left with Decker not long after I'd returned to the control room. The night I disappeared into the supply closet with Marlee. “It must've been when I was walking the floor. Had to make a few trips down there to stop people from partaking in the nose candy.”
Hawk's eyes alight with humor. “Don’t miss having to deal with that. Why do you think I like manning the door so much?” he replies with a laugh. “People aren't dumb enough to snort that shit in my line.”
“Yeah, thanks for that. Just means they wait till they're under my watch to do it. Yay for me.”
Hawk grins before taking another drink. “It was a weird one though. Doesn't matter how many times he was told to shut up, he just kept talking.”
“His sister, did you know her?”
“Let her in a few times, but that’s as far as it went,” he replies. “Mary, I think her name was. Anyway, she worked at the club up until a month ago too. Sweet girl. Innocent as a church mouse though and definitely not the usual type you'd expect to see working at Marquis.”
“You said she used to work there. What happened?”
“Yeah she did. Only for a week though. It was real strange too. Like one night she was working behind the bar and the next, she was gone.” He shrugs. “It happens more often than you think.”
Every single spider sense inside of my body is pinging right now. This isn't going to help my case, but it might have everything to do with whatever Marlee and the FBI are looking into. Missing women, money laundering, and a high-profile club where no one would usually look closely at. Then you’ve got security systems akin to that you'd find at the damn White House…Yeah, a picture is forming in my head and it’s making me uneasy.
Something Hawk says sticks with me. “What happens more often than you think? Women going missing?” Surely not…
“You know, people coming to Vegas with dollar signs in their eyes and a big bright future in their heads. Then reality slaps them in the face when they realize it's not quite what they expect.”
“Hmm.”
“Anyway. Justin was called to take care of it. He and Decker left soon after, so I guess it can't have been too big of a deal because there's been no sign of the guy again.”
After staying for a few more games of pool and another drink, I make my excuses and leave the bar, walking toward my apartment a few blocks away.
That was my intention anyway, but I don't get that far. Half a block from home and right where there’s an abandoned building and very little light, a black van pulls up next to me. Before I know it a hood is thrown over my head and I'm shoved into the back of the vehicle, my attacker getting in after me and forcing me down onto the floor with a knee to the middle of my back. My hands are bound with plastic zip ties far too quickly, my ankles getting the same treatment soon after. Then all I hear is a slap of a hand on metal and the van is back on the move.
I don't talk, my training kicking in as I try to calm myself down, part of me hoping this is a case of mistaken identity and not my cover being blown.
My heart pounds as I try to assess the situation and my surroundings even though there's not much I can do until I know who's behind this and what the deal is. That’s when I can decide what my next move will be.
Twenty minutes later, the van comes to a sudden stop, jolting me forward. I hear the sound of the doors opening and muffled voices, listening closely for any clues as to what the hell is going on.
“Did you have to go the whole hog?” a man asks.
“What did you expect us to do? We had to make it look as real as possible. He was with Hawk and the rest of the bouncers.” Shit. So it is somehow related to Marquis.
“OK. OK. Let’s just get him inside,” the man's voice says, urgency in his tone.
“Relax, we made sure nobody followed us,” another voice responds, this one more calm and collected. They almost sound bored. Isn't that ironic? A boring kidnapping, who'd have thought?
A second later hands wrap around my ankles and out of instinct, I kick out, my heel digging into soft flesh and earning a grunt.
“Fuck!” The man curses and his grip loosens for a second before tightening again. Suddenly two sets of arms are jerking me forward and lifting me out of the van, holding me firm despite my attempts to buck and twist and get out of their grip. But I stay quiet, knowing that they'd likely expect me to shout and yell and make a scene. Instead, I listen for any sound to get an idea of where I am.
