by Janie Crouch
Understanding dawned in Jordan’s eyes. “You’re Charlotte Devereux.”
“Charlie. Go get changed. We’ve got work to do.”
Charlie honestly didn’t know how she would’ve made it through her shift without Jordan. At best, it would’ve ended with everyone unhappy. At worst, Charlie would’ve taken Jordan’s place in prison.
The younger woman didn’t say a lot, and obviously didn’t know much about bartending, but she was a hard worker and Charlie would be glad to have her on any shift. She easily recognized the look on Jordan’s face when the woman counted her tips at the end of the night.
The closing of eyes in relief and the silent prayer of gratitude. The knowledge that she was, in fact, going to be able to survive.
Charlie had been there.
Charlie didn’t know what exactly was going on with Jordan—and honestly had so much to deal with in her own life that she really couldn’t bring herself to care—but she was glad the woman at least now had a way of providing for herself.
Jordan helped with the closing chores and promised to be back the next night. The waitresses were all gone, and the dancers were filing out one by one when Charlie remembered Rocco’s VIP room still needed to be cleaned. She’d muttered a curse under her breath, grabbed a tray and headed there.
The Silver Palace’s back area was immense, almost as large as the front section of the club. The rooms were all interconnected and each had multiple doors. There was a main conference-style room—although why there was a need to do legitimate business at a gentlemen’s club, Charlie would never understand—and then other individual rooms used for private dancing. They were a pain in the ass to clean, but their interconnectivity made the back scenario safer for dancers.
The only way to be completely private back here was to buy out all the rooms. That rarely happened because of the price. But evidently that hadn’t been a concern for Rocco and his “business” friends.
Charlie sighed and rubbed the back of her neck as she walked into the main room. Glasses and bottles were everywhere, since, like Heather had told her, they’d prepaid for everything and hadn’t wanted service from any bartenders all evening. Good thing, since Charlie wouldn’t have been able to give the VIPs much attention anyway.
She was stacking empty glassware on her tray when she saw a man’s suit jacket hanging on the back of a chair. She reached over and picked it up. She would put it by the bar, because surely someone would come back in the next couple days to get it.
A piece of paper fell out of the pocket. She was putting it back when the series of symbols and numbers caught her attention, making her smile. They looked like the code she was developing with Ethan.
In Ethan language, this particular code said: Blue baby eat just when my old dog sleep.
The sentence didn’t make any sense, of course. Each child she worked with assigned their own words to symbols. She just remembered Ethan’s because she’d spent the most time with him. Blue baby eat just when my old dog sleep. All those words were part of the Dolch list, a list of words people who suffered from dyslexia were most likely to struggle with. Hopefully with this new method, that wouldn’t be true for long—
“What the fuck are you doing?”
The open door behind her and the angry question caught her by surprise. She stuffed the paper back in the pocket and dropped the jacket over the chair again.
She turned to face the voice, dread pooling in her belly when three men walked out of the private room. One was Rocco; the others she didn’t recognize at all. At least one more stayed farther back in the darkness of the other room. She couldn’t make out any of his features.
“Rocco told us there would be no interruptions,” said a man big enough to crush her with his bare hands. He looked angry. All of them did.
And they had guns. One—the biggest hulk—had gotten his out of the holster and was holding it in his hand. At least he wasn’t pointing it at her.
Yet.
Charlie whirled back to the table and began stacking glassware again. These men were dangerous. She had no doubt about it. She’d walked in on some sort of business, all right, but not the legal kind.
And they were pissed she was here.
Not looking at them was probably her best bet. “I’m sorry. I thought these rooms were already empty and just needed to be cleaned. I’ll leave now.” She made a beeline for the door.
She’d almost made it when the big man spoke again. “Wait.”
Shit.
She stopped but didn’t turn around. Honestly, whatever business these guys were doing, she didn’t care. Probably drugs. She didn’t condone it, but she had her own problems. Even if they were selling back here, she wasn’t going to say anything since telling the police would get this place shut down. She needed this job. She just wanted to get out of here and leave them to whatever they were doing.
But promising her silence would do nothing but get her killed.
Think, Charlie.
All the men were watching her carefully, even the shorter one staying farther in the dark. She tried not to let her gaze rest on any of them, choosing instead to look at the floor.
Promising to forget anything she saw here wasn’t going to help her, but maybe making them think she was too stupid to understand anything she saw might work.
Plus, besides a crap-ton of empty bottles and some weird figures on a piece of paper that didn’t mean anything to her outside of tutoring, what had she seen? What did she know? Nothing.
“He-eyyyyy.” She drew out the vowel like she was talking to a group of friends. “I really didn’t mean to interrupt. I thought everyone was gone. But you guys just take your time, I have plenty of other work to do. I’ll just finish cleaning after you’re gone.” Praying, she turned back toward the door again.
“Did we say you could leave?”
Shit. Shit.
She closed her eyes and took a breath, then opened them and turned back around, still keeping her gaze no higher than their waists. “Your bottles are empty. Did you need some more? I mean, as long as there’s a little extra tip in it for me, I don’t mind how long you guys stay.” She kept the bright smile and simpleton tone.
She dared to glance at their faces. The men were all looking at each other now, obviously trying to gauge what sort of a threat she was, if any. The big man took a step back, obviously having been called by the man still in the dark room. Then he stepped out.
“What were you doing with this jacket?”
She laughed, beyond thankful when it came out sounding light rather than hysterical. “I thought someone had left it. I was going to put it behind the bar. I was sort of hoping for a reward for keeping it nice and clean, you know?” She wrinkled her nose and gave them a pout.
Money-hungry, not-real-bright bartender. Money-hungry, not-real-bright bartender. It may be the role that saved her life.
The much bigger guy with the gun looked over at the smaller one in the shadows. Charlie couldn’t tell if he was buying her story or not.
She didn’t want to die here.
She was saved by Jade—Charlie’s least favorite dancer, but who cared?—coming out of the back room. She was grinning slyly, high, drunk, or both.
Charlie didn’t even want to know what Jade had been doing with or for the men. She suspected it was much more than merely dancing, especially given the huge wad of cash in her hand. Charlie just wanted to use the woman as an excuse to get out of here.
“Hey, Jade!” She kept her voice as bright as possible as she waved enthusiastically to the other woman, whose real name she didn’t even know. “It’s been so crazy busy tonight, hasn’t it? My feet are killing me. Can’t believe it’s just a Tuesday.”
Jade nodded as she walked across the room, looking a little confused, probably because she and Charlie had never spoken this much to each other in the fourteen months Charlie had been working here.
“Um. Yeah, busy,” the other woman finally said.
As Jade
came by on her way to the door, Charlie turned and linked their arms. Jade gave her another weird look but thankfully didn’t pull away. “Yeah, I’ve still got so much work to do. Heather’s kids were vomiting so she had to leave, and April didn’t show up for her shift, again. Probably broke up with that no-good boyfriend of hers. You know how they’re always on-again, off-again.”
Charlie blabbered on as they walked out the door, waiting in fear for the men to call her back. But they didn’t. Only when the door closed behind them did she dare stop talking. It was all she could do to keep from collapsing.
“You okay?” Jade asked. “You’re acting a little weird.”
“Are you?” Her eyes flew over Jade, looking for any sign of abuse on her.
But Jade just held up her money and smiled. “More than. Like you said, it was crazy busy tonight.” She turned and made her way toward the dressing room.
Charlie wanted to run, just sprint out the door and go straight to the police. But what would she tell them? That there had been men in a strip club and they’d been upset she’d barged in on their private room after they’d paid to have the entire place to themselves? That she suspected foul play even though there was not one bit of evidence of it? Yeah, they had guns. But this was Wyoming. A lot of people did.
And damn it. She needed this job. She hadn’t really seen anything, so she didn’t need to report anything. If the men came through the front of the building to exit, she just needed to convince them of that too.
Money-hungry, not-real-bright bartender.
She just needed to act like everything was normal. If she didn’t freak out, they would just leave, and this would all blow over.
Every minute that passed when the men didn’t call her back into the room, she relaxed a little more. The only thing she had to make sure of was that she wasn’t left alone with them. Not having any witnesses around might tempt them beyond measure.
She scrubbed behind the bar, cleaned all the cabinets. Stuff she normally never would’ve done at the end of a backbreaking shift, but she was afraid to leave. Just act normal.
A few minutes later, Paul, one of the club’s bouncers, wandered over to the bar. Charlie didn’t know him very well, any of the bouncers honestly. She couldn’t remember a time he’d actually come over and tried to talk to her. As a matter of fact, the only person he’d ever seemed tight with was Jade.
“It’s getting late. Is that group in the back finished?” They sometimes had some that paid to stay past closing, so it wasn’t unheard of.
Charlie kept wiping down the cabinet she was cleaning. “I hope so. I wasn’t the one who took the actual booking, so I’m honestly not sure.”
“But you went back and talked to them, right? What’s going on? What were they doing?”
Why on this night had he decided to be so chatty? And to ask what they were doing?
Money-hungry, not-real-bright bartender.
She rolled her eyes. “I totally wasn’t paying any attention to them. I just ran back there to grab empty glasses, so I could run them through the dishwasher. Jade was just finishing dancing so hopefully they’re almost done. I just want to get my tips and go, you know?”
Paul looked her over for a second, then nodded. She went back to her faux cleaning and he returned to looming by the entrance.
But when she looked over at him a few minutes later, he wasn’t there. He was quietly entering the back rooms. Was he kicking them out? That wouldn’t be right. Bouncers never talked directly to customers, and they definitely wouldn’t to VIPs. A bartender, or Mack himself, if he was here, would inform the group it was time to leave.
Was Paul reporting to the guys in the back? Damn it, did she need to run? Because as much as she wanted this job, nothing was worth her life.
Or was she just being completely paranoid?
The door was cracked. She walked over so she could eavesdrop. She’d rather be paranoid than dead.
“. . . just wants to take her tips and go home. I don’t think anything drastic is necessary. She’s worked at the bar for a long time, but you can tell, she’s just like the rest of the girls. Not so smart. Just looking to make money.”
It was Rocco talking.
“I don’t like loose ends, Rocco,” the voice—someone else, not the big guy—responded. “She had my jacket. Knows our faces.”
“But Paul said she didn’t say anything suspicious. She just thinks we’re a group of friends or business acquaintances, like any that comes back here.”
Charlie held her breath, waiting for a response. Should she run now while no one was around? If she did, that would certainly convince them she was a threat.
And where would she go?
Finn. He would be her only option. But how could she do that? How could she lay this potential danger at his doorstep? What about Ethan? They might hurt the boy too.
“Fine.” The annoyance in the small man’s tone was clear. “We do nothing about the bartender. . .”
Charlie didn’t wait to hear the rest. She moved from the door, crossing back to the bar as quickly as possible. Paul was already coming out by the time she made it there.
“They almost done?” she asked.
“Yes. I’ll be escorting them out the back door.”
Thank God. Thank God. Thank God. “Okay, I’ll be in there to clean once they’re gone.”
She ducked into the dishwasher room, leaning against the wall and taking deep breaths. She stayed in there a full fifteen minutes until she was sure they were gone. She’d just leave the cleaning for tomorrow when she came back to do daytime janitor duties. She wanted to get out of here while there were still other people around.
She had the keys to the building since she was often the last one out, and of course, the first in. Being here alone had never bothered her—she usually enjoyed it. But not tonight. She did not want to be alone in The Silver Palace tonight.
She exited the building with the last two dancers and Paul, who had returned after escorting his VIP criminal buddies out. She locked the back door behind her, the other two women chatting about their upcoming shift the next night, then glanced around to make sure no one suspicious was in the parking lot. Nothing.
As a matter of fact, a police cruiser was pulling in. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief and waved to the dancers as they called out their goodbyes. She glanced at Paul to see if he was concerned, but he wasn’t even paying attention to the cop car. So evidently whatever was happening in the back couldn’t be too bad.
Maybe Charlie was just paranoid.
It wasn’t unusual for the police to do a drive-by here around closing time, just to make sure everyone was safe, although it tended to be closer to when the customers were leaving. But she’d never been so relieved to see the police in her life. She gave the officer a wave and then walked to her car.
She was just getting in when the officer pulled next to her and rolled down his window.
“Everything okay here?” he asked.
“Yes, Officer. Just had some late customers so I’m finishing my shift.”
He nodded. “Late customers, that’s got to be frustrating when you’re trying to wrap up a long day, or night, as it is.”
She gave him a tight smile. “Yeah, I guess some people don’t have much respect for other people’s time.”
“Oh yeah? These late customers, you have any problems with them? They cause you trouble or anything like that?” The officer was sitting far enough back in his car that she couldn’t get a clear look at him. Why was he asking her this? The police had never stopped to talk in the past when they’d made their late-night sweep.
Why was he talking to her tonight? It was just like Paul.
Suddenly she knew. It was exactly like Paul. The man was double-checking to make sure she didn’t really know or suspect anything. Who better to confess a problem to than a police officer who just happened to be at the right place at the right time?
“Because you know if you ever saw anything suspi
cious,” the policeman continued, “you could always let our office know. I would be more than happy to look into anything for you.”
Money-hungry, not-real-bright bartender.
“Oh well, there were a couple guys who kept grabbing my ass tonight.” She giggled, a sound obviously forced even to her ears, but the officer didn’t know better. “But they left me a good tip, so I guess it’s okay. But besides that, just another day at the office.”
The officer didn’t say anything for a long moment, so she smiled at him again. “Thanks for driving by and making sure we all get out to our cars safely. That’s sweet of you.”
He nodded. “Just part of the job. Have a good night.”
Charlie wanted to have a breakdown right then, but she had to get out of here. Whoever this group was, they had enough money and power to keep at least one officer on their payroll.
She started her car and drove as calmly as she could out of the parking lot. Was she safe? After getting both Paul and the policeman to confirm she didn’t have any suspicions, would they leave her alone?
She hadn’t planned to stay at the Cactus tonight, even though she had a tutoring appointment tomorrow with Ethan and could really use a shower. But now she would have to. There was no way she’d be able to sleep otherwise.
But hours later, even with all her exhaustion and a locked motel door with a chair wedged under the knob between her and the outside world, she was wide awake.
“I don’t know, Dad. I really want the Captain America kit, but the Millennium Falcon is the best ship in the world. It made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs.”
Ethan had earned a Lego kit as his reward for doing so well in his tutoring. Who knew picking one would be such a monumental decision?
“I’ll only buy you the Millennium Falcon if you can repeat the most important rule back to me,” Finn said.
“Han shot first.” Ethan rolled his little eyes. “Everybody knows that.”
Finn ruffled his son’s hair. “Everybody doesn’t know that. That’s the problem with the world today.”
