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“We will. Abby’s stronger than she gives herself credit for.” Ella lets out a deflated sigh before she places them in her cart and smiles back at me.
She knows Abby well. Same age, history, this is good. The girl seems like a nice enough person, So does Shaniya. Kids live at this club; how bad can it be there for her?
I could leave it here. Move on to the next task at hand.
“I should be getting on. Nyx has a client in fifteen minutes, and I left Dylan at the studio with him.”
“Just one more thing, Ella, I hope you don’t mind me asking.” Now I do sound like a fucking cop. Occupational hazard.
“Sure.” She tosses some chocolate chip cookies in with the rest of her stuff.
“I know about the club and Roswell’s relationship. They help us, we help them. I learned the hard way.” I snuffle a laugh at myself.
“Yeah…” She looks curious as to where I’m going with this.
“Do the club have any other people that they work with? Inside connections? I’m new to town and could die over what happened the other day,” I lie, hoping empathy will get me answers.
“That I can’t help you with. I just know that the Souls and Roswell have been working together for years. We got a good town because of it. I’m pleased you’re on board with that.” She somehow manages to make the smile she gives me friendly and threatening at the same time.
“And Alex…” she adds before pushing her cart down the meat aisle. “Don’t beat yourself up over what happened the other day with Squealer, he had it coming.”
It’s a little after two when I make it back to the office, carrying a bunch of groceries I don’t need. Lucille looks like she’s going to burst with excitement.
“District attorney is in the house,” she whispers over her desk, rearranging her blouse to emphasize her chest.
“Who?”
“Who…? Mark Peterson, that’s who. He is one fine piece of ass, and he’s in Roswell’s office working on the Knightbridge trial.
“Okay,” I nod, pretending to know what she’s talking about, and suddenly she bursts into a ridiculous giggle.
“Mr. Peterson, this is Alex, she’s our new deputy,” she introduces me to whoever's standing behind me, and when I turn around, I see a man wearing a suit. He’s handsome in a clean, wholesome kinda way. His eyes narrow and his short brown hair fluffy.
“A pleasure to meet you, Alex,” he drops his head politely.
“So will we be seeing you again tomorrow? I could nip over to Jodie’s and grab you a cream horn,” Lucille offers, pulling her shoulders back.
“That's erm… kind.” He clears his throat and avoids making eye contact with her stuck-out chest. “But I’m not sure, depends on what Mr. Myer’s lawyer comes up with this afternoon.”
“Just let me know.” She actually picks up the phone and shakes it in her hand.
I feel embarrassed for her.
“I’ll see both of you ladies soon.” Mark gives me a courteous nod before stepping around me and heading out the door.
“He’s so gorgeous,” Lucille gushes, leaning over her desk to watch him getting into his car.
“Single too. He makes me wish the crime rate around here was higher,” she giggles. The phone starts ringing, and she stops daydreaming when she notices the look I’m giving her to eventually pick it up.
“Afternoon, Manitou Springs police department,” she answers breezily, and I leave her to it, heading down the corridor to shut myself in my office.
I’ve got it confirmed that Abby is still at the club. From what I've seen and heard, the men treat the women they’re attached to well. But if Abby isn’t attached to anyone, it could be a different story.
I’m not naive when it comes to bikers. I’ve heard of club whores. The kind of girls who hang around a club to keep themselves high or to keep a roof over their heads.
Is that what Abby is to them now? I take the flyer that I picked up at the drive and buy this morning out of my pocket. Happy Hour at the Black Pearl is apparently between seven and eight. I get off at six. Maybe it’s about time I check out the nightlife my new town has to offer, and see how well these Dirty Souls protect their assets.
The Black Pearl is a good place for Prez to hold a business meeting with a man like David Rousseau. He likes women almost as much as he likes making money. There ain’t no other reason for me to be here other than the fact I like women too.
