Just Buried

by Addison Moore

  “That’s fine,” I say, giving a quick glance to the bar, which seems to be teeming with dapper men and dolled up women in cocktail dresses just like it was last night. “You two enjoy the show. I’ll hang around the bar and see if I can figure out what this Collective is.”

  “Ohh.” Georgie slaps her hands together. “I hope that cutie patootie, Archie, is up next. I’ve got my best over the shoulder boulder holder on in the event he wants to make it disappear.”

  Juni raises her hand and grunts as if she were dying to be heard next.

  “Go ahead.” I’m not fighting crazy tonight.

  “I’ve got my surprise undies on tonight.” Juni waggles her brows. “If that man comes a knockin’, my drawers will go a droppin’.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut tight a moment.

  “That’s lovely, but I actually don’t think Archie is performing tonight.” I glance at the roster in my hand. “No, it’s a woman and she’s doing culinary magic. Doesn’t that sound delicious?”

  Both Georgie and Juni start in on a whine.

  Georgie tosses her hands in the air. “Why didn’t you tell me that before we left? I would have worn my house slippers. Instead, I got all fancied up.” She flashes a flip-flop our way.

  Not to be outdone by her mother, Juni scoffs hard.

  “If I wanted to watch food disappear, I could have stayed at home,” she says. “I’ve got an entire batch of those blondie bars waiting to do just that.”

  “That does sound good.” My stomach rumbles as if annunciating my point. I may have staved off dinner. Jasper is getting home late tonight and asked if I wanted to split some takeout later. And seeing I’m not one to say no to a handsome man who just so happens to be packing heat with those kisses, of course, I said yes.

  A familiar brunette is about to pass us but then backtracks.

  “You’re back.” Bernie’s eyes grow in amusement. Her curls are glossy and look as if she sprinkled glitter in them, and she has on bright fuchsia lipstick that glows against her complexion. “Well, I guess that means you enjoyed the show. I’ve got a great table up front if you’d like it.”

  Juni is back to raising her hand. “Fun zone, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Bernie laughs. “Right this way, ladies.”

  “Actually”—I lean in—“I thought I’d enjoy this one over by the bar.”

  “The bar?” Her eyes bug out about as far as they can go.

  “Yeah.” I lift a shoulder. “What can I say, I’m a feeling little thirsty tonight.”

  Her lips come together like a perfect bowtie. I highly doubt she has any idea what she’s in for. I should probably say something.

  Bernie bites down on her lip. “How about I bring you as many drinks as you want? I’ll even throw in the first one for free.” Take the deal, Bizzy. You don’t want any piece of that action.

  My mouth falls open. “No, that’s okay. My fiancé is meeting me here soon, and I told him to look for me at the bar.”

  “Oh.” She wrinkles her nose. “If it’s just for a little while, you should be fine.” She gives a sly wink. “Some of the men here can get a little frisky. If they ask you to pick up a drink for them, I’d say no.” She gives a hard nod before leading Juni and Georgie away.

  Did she imply that the men at the bar would ask me to buy them a drink?

  A thought comes to me. Wait a minute… Both Macy and Juni had their credit cards swiped. I bet the Collective is some greasy scam where a ring of well-trained thieves plunders a woman for all she’s worth—or at least all her credit card can handle. I’ve heard all about those kinds of people. They’re the reason my mother gave Macy and me aluminum wallets for Christmas. They’ll probably be the reason we’ll all be walking around encased in matching aluminum uniforms one day, too. And here I thought the dress code of the future would be something born of brotherly love, and the real deal has more to do with the fact the future is rife with thugs.

  Oddly enough, every man at, around, and near the bar is wearing a neat three-piece suit. These men all look to be in their thirties and forties, well-groomed, all with the same lusty gaze as they observe the throngs of women in their jewel-toned dresses.

  Lucky for me, I’m not entirely out of sorts.

  I knew from observing the scene last night I should probably step up my fashion game. And that’s exactly why I’ve donned an emerald green satin number I was forced to wear in my cousin’s wedding about eight years ago. It’s a little too tight, and took two tries to get the zipper up, but the important thing is it’s on. I’m basically hermetically sealed in this deal until the end of the night when I’ll have to cut it off with a seam ripper.

  The dress is a mermaid design that forces me to do an odd little waddle. It’s low-cut, incredibly so—my cousin wasn’t afraid of flaunting what the Baker girls had going on up front. And in the back there’s a keyhole cutout just above my rear. Macy called it the peep show dress, and she wasn’t that far off with the analogy. And believe me, I plan on changing well before my late night dinner with Jasper since I’m guessing I’ll have to sit for the occasion. It’s bad enough I lost feeling from the waist down on the drive over.

  A tall man with glowing green eyes and a greedy grin is the first to greet me as I make my way to the bar.

  “Hey, hot stuff.” He leans in and rubs his shoulder over mine. “You buying?”

  “Ugh, no.” I stumble past him as fast as my mermaid waddle will allow. Even if he did hold the keys to the Collective kingdom, I’d rather pass on all the knowledge in the world than have him pawing all over me for the night.

  Although it didn’t get past me that he asked if I was buying. I bet he’s a part of that skeezy scam artist ring.

  And it’s no wonder those three women all ended up missing. They hung out in hovels like this.

  I give a quick glance around the rather glitzy digs and shake my head because it doesn’t look anything like a hovel. Quite the opposite, in fact.

  “Excuse me,” a deep voice calls from my left and I turn that way to find a comely, tall, sinewy man in a suit. His head is shaved bald and he has a trimmed goatee, and dark eyes that seem to brighten as he takes me in. “This is quite some place, isn’t it?”

  A dull laugh bounces through me. “I was just thinking that myself.”

  Okay, if he asks me to buy him a drink, he’ll be my mark for the evening. He doesn’t look too sleezy, and considering he hasn’t tried to touch me once, I don’t have to feel as if I’m stepping out on Jasper.

  It’s all for the greater cause, though. I’m sure Jasper would understand. Thankfully, I don’t plan on explaining it to him.

  The tall goatee man sucks in his lower lip as he glances to the ground a moment. If I had to guess, he’s gauging whether he should stay or go.

  She looks too nice. I don’t think I have the heart to do this to her.

  Ha! I knew it. He’s sizing me up. I bet he’s already zapped the numbers off all my credit cards with some doohickey he’s got in his pocket.

  Jerk.

  But I can’t let him get away. I don’t want to wade any deeper into the troll-filled waters than I have to. This is one thief I plan to hold onto until he spills everything he knows—either verbally or mentally.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” I offer a prideful smile because it feels as if I’ve just called out his crooked organization. But I’m one step ahead of him. I plan on handing my credit card right to the bartender and keeping an eye on it the entire time.

  He gives a slight frown.

  Just when I thought there were some decent girls left in the world.

  “Okay,” he says almost reluctantly.

  Decent girls? Since when can’t a woman buy a man a drink? Sure, I like things the other way around, too, but I’m not sexist about it.

  Am I?

  I cringe because I’m probably not that far off.

  He chuckles to himself. Knew it. That’s a clear look of regret on her face.

  The bart
ender comes up, and the man with the goatee orders a whiskey neat and I do the same. Lord knows I’m not drinking, but I’ll need something to keep up the ruse.

  He nods my way. “So what’s your name, pretty girl?”

  Pretty girl?

  Gag me. I guess there’s no escaping the cheesiness this place has to offer.

  “It’s B—” I’m not really going to tell him my name, am I? “Macy.” I shrug, knowing full well Macy would feel honored to be dragged into this debacle.

  “And yours?” I lift my shoulders his way and gasp in horror because I think I may have accidentally on purpose flirted with this gentleman—felon in the making is more like it.

  “Damien.” He gives a slight wink, and oddly enough, it doesn’t feel at all cheesy. Too bad I couldn’t tell her the real deal. But the higher-ups said to stick to the script. Apparently, these chicks dig a name they can really sink their teeth into and something as mundane as Dan just doesn’t cut it.

  I frown over at him. That’s too bad. He looks much more like a Dan than a Damien. I’m beginning to think he’s the one that’s too nice to be around here.

  The bartender, a woman with short red hair and crimson lipstick, looks this way and I hand over my card.

  “You sure?” She waves it at me with a stern look and I nod as if I’ve done this a thousand times. I watch as she runs it through the register. “Bizzy Baker.” She grins as she hands the card back to me. “Catchy name. I like that.”

  I snatch up the card and quickly bury it in my purse as I offer an uncertain smile to Damien.

  “Bizzy?” He tips his head back a notch.

  “That’s just a nickname.”

  On a credit card? He lifts his brows my way and I choose to ignore his private inquest.

  “So, Dan, tell me a little about yourself.”

  His eyes bulge wide a moment. Whoa. Did this chick just call me Dan? Crap. I didn’t tell her my real name, did I? I’d swear on everything I’ve got that I said Damien. I’d better steer clear of the whiskey. This girl is already getting to me in the worst way. If she wasn’t trying to land me like a 747, I might even think she was the one.

  Land him?

  I grimace at the thought.

  I knew it. I never should have wiggled my shoulders. That’ll teach me for taking a page out of Macy’s playbook.

  The lights begin to swirl overhead. It’s clear the show is about to start, but the atmosphere at the bar doesn’t cool. Instead, it only seems to heat up that much more as the bodies draw close to one another, the laughter grows darker, and bedroom eyes are running rampant.

  “So, Damien”—I give a little wink—“tell me what brings you here tonight.”

  His head ticks back a notch. Wow. She just called me Damien. It’s clear I’ve already screwed this up ten ways to Sunday. But what can I expect? It’s not like I’m a regular. It’s my first night on the job. But she doesn’t know that.

  First night on the job? Well, I hope he knows enough to tell me something.

  “What brings me here tonight?” A flirtatious smile floats on his lips. “Why I’m here for you. Anything you want.” His eyes linger over mine. “For as long as you want.”

  “Drinks are ready.” The bartender honks from behind and I’m zapped out of the trance he was determined to pull me into. Why do I get the feeling all of the men around here are magicians?

  Dan and I each pick up our whiskey and hold it close to our chest, neither of us appearing too determined to drink it.

  His shoulders sag a moment and his features tense up as if he were breaking character.

  “So tell me, Bizzy. What brings you here tonight?” he says it stern, and I can’t help but note an air of brotherly concern in his voice.

  “Oh, I was just, you know—the show.” I shrug, unsure of what to say next. “And one of my friends mentioned something about the Collective.”

  He gives a hard blink. And there it is. I was so willing to believe she was clueless about it. After another minute I would have wished her goodnight, walked away, and found another mark. A part of me still wants to do it. Why bring shame and humiliation to this sweet thing? She’s too pretty to be this desperate. But then, if I did that, she might just walk away and find another knucklehead to hit up, and who knows what he’ll do to her? He might just take her wallet and her body for a ride.

  I gasp at the thought.

  As if I’d ever let that happen.

  His chest expands as he steps in. He’s so close I can practically taste his spicy cologne. Much spicier than anything Jasper wears. Just the smell of it makes my eyes water.

  An applause breaks out and I glance to the stage to see the female magician standing in front of a table laden with colorful cakes in every shape and size. And is that… I squint over to see a gray-haired older gal with a yellow kaftan cramming her face in one of the frosted confections, eating as fast as she can, while her arms look as if they’re tied behind her back.

  Figures. Georgie is having the time of her life.

  That’s one thing about Georgie. You don’t have to wag a free cake in front of her for long before she takes action.

  Dan steps before me, blocking my line of vision from the stage, and shakes his head as if he were slightly disappointed, his heavy eyes never leaving mine.

  “So what really brings you to a place like this?” he says it softly, as if he were pleading for answers. “You seem like a smart girl. You’re beautiful. You don’t strike me as someone who can’t get a man.”

  “Can’t get a man?” I inch back. “Why would you say that?”

  A breath hitches in my throat. That’s not a part of the Collective, is it?

  “Look, I didn’t mean it as an insult.” All right. I’ve ticked her off. The last thing I want to do is wound her ego. But if she pulls the ripcord, there isn’t any going back. “Of course, you can get a man.”

  My heart begins to race, because for the life of me, I have no idea what’s happening here. Does he want my wallet or me? Right about now, it sounds like both. I’d better play along. This show isn’t going to last forever. And the last thing I want is to go home with more questions than I came with. If he doesn’t start talking, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

  “I don’t want any man.” My lips quiver at the thought of what I’m about to say next. “I want you. Now tell me what the rules are. I need you to define the Collective for me.”

  Define the Collective? A dismayed look crosses his face.

  He tips his head my way. “It’s pretty cut and dry, don’t you think?”

  “I bought you a drink. Tell me what comes next.” The words come out breathier than I anticipated, but I blame the tight dress and this insane buildup of anticipation. I can’t stand the not knowing. Why isn’t his mind blabbing all the answers? “You know.” I give his tie a gentle tug. “What happens after I buy you a drink?”

  “You have a second location in mind?” If she says yes, it’s a go. He sighs as if he were dreading what came next.

  “A second location?” I shake my head as I try to figure it out. “The Collective approves of that?”

  “Only if you do.” He tips his drink my way.

  I lean in as if that might somehow help me home in on his thoughts, but there’s nothing there for me to grasp.

  Fine. I’ll play his game.

  “That’s what I want.” I shrug with a smile. “A second location. Now would you please explain to me—”

  “All right.” He lands both of our drinks back onto the bar, and before I know it, he’s navigating us out of the main room, straight through the lobby, and right out the exit.

  “Oh God! I’m being kidnapped,” I gag on the words until they’re hardly audible.

  Anita, Embry, and Shelly flit through my mind.

  Of all the dumb luck—I just so happen to stumble upon the monster that Jasper’s entire division is looking to apprehend.

  We hit the cool night air, and I dig in my heels.

&nb
sp; Rule number one: never let an attacker take you to a second location. Sure, he hasn’t attacked me yet, but he’s whisked me away from the club without my permission.

  He takes my wrists and wraps them behind my back and panic fills me.

  A scream works its way up my throat, but I’m so struck with terror not a peep comes out as he barrels us down the street.

  Oh my God, it’s as if I’m paralyzed everywhere but my ridiculous feet who seem more than anxious to follow along with him.

  A couple of sheriff’s cruisers sit across the street and a flood of relief hits me.

  “Help!” The word cuts through my vocal cords.

  “It’s okay.” He wraps his arm around me, and instantly I reach over and take a bite out of his shoulder.

  “Ouch,” he shouts, letting go of me long enough for me to bolt into the street just as an oncoming car nearly mows me over.

  The car screeches to a halt just inches from me as I run like hell over to that patrol car and pound on the windows.

  A couple of deputies come around from the back.

  “Bizzy?”

  I look over to find Leo Granger, and I’ve never been so happy to see his obnoxious face than I am now.

  “Leo!” I lunge onto him and don’t let go. “Arrest him.” I point over to the perpetrator in question. “He’s trying to kidnap me. He’s a monster! He’s the exact monster Jasper is looking for!”

  A blast of light goes off, and we turn to the man standing on the sidewalk with a giant camera in hand.

  “Hey,” Leo barks. “I said no cameras!”

  “Never mind him.” I yank Leo into the street. “You’ve got an arrest to make.” I point over to Damien or Dan or whoever he’s pretending to be tonight. “He’s dangerous. He could be our killer!”

  I hadn’t thought of it before, but I suppose he could be.

  The evil devil that nearly cost me my life chuckles over at Leo and me.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” He nods my way. “All right, Bizzy. You have the right to remain silent. You have—”