by S J Grey
Griff joined the group, and nodded a greeting when she introduced him to everyone. He also scowled at Caleb, but it was the least of Caleb’s worries. They’d be going into the club any minute. There was no queue to get in, which boded well. Maybe they were early for the rush and it’d be quiet inside?
They paid admission fees in cash and moved down the long entrance hall, towards the music.
Bass beats pumped out from behind the closed door, so loud that the floor vibrated. Caleb’s pulse thudded in time to the music and he wiped his damp palms on his jeans. He could do this.
The door swung open.
“Aloha,” said the cheery waitress. She was dressed in a skimpy bikini top and a grass skirt. A flower garland hung around her neck. “Welcome to Surf Night. You sharing a table?”
“Sounds great,” said Jonathan, a wide grin on his face. “We’ll have a table for eight, please.”
“This way.” She led them through a crowded room to a high table with a cluster of stools around it. Strobes danced in the air, and the music got louder.
Caleb claimed a stool against the wall. Thank fuck for small mercies. His chest was tight, and his heart shimmied as quickly as the two girls dancing on stage. All they wore was the flower garlands. Calm down, he told himself. You can do this.
Jonathan perched at his side and spoke to their server. “We’ve not been here before. What happens on Surf Night?”
“Half-price cocktails and discounts on lap dances if you’re wearing a lei.”
Devin leaned forward, to join the conversation. “A lay?”
“Lei.” She stroked the fabric flowers around her throat. “We’re selling them for ten dollars each. All profits go to charity.” She touched Devin’s chin with the tip of her finger. “You’d look hot in one. I’ll bring some over, for you all to look at.”
The server sashayed away, and a ripple of laughter rang around the table.
Caleb felt lightheaded. He blew out a harsh breath and locked his gaze onto the laminated menu glued to the table. He’d be useless to the team tonight if he couldn’t get his stupid anxiety under control. He was useless, anyway. And was it getting hot in here? He yanked down the zipper on his jacket. He couldn’t get enough air into his lungs.
“Earth to Caleb.”
He dragged his gaze to Jonathan. “Huh?”
“Beer?” Jonathan cocked his head. “You okay, mate?”
Caleb forced himself to nod. “Yeah. All good.” He had to raise his voice over the music. He’d be fine. Focus on the job. He ran a finger around the neckline of his T-shirt. It felt too tight.
The team yelled at each other over the table. Coarse jokes—the kind guys made in this venue. Caleb felt weird. Otherworldly. As though the only things tethering him to the floor were his motorcycle boots. He forced smiles where they seemed appropriate, accepted the flower garland the server draped around his neck, and pretended to watch the girls on stage wiggling their tiny butts to the music.
How soon could he get out of here?
Jonathan tipped his beer bottle towards Caleb’s and spoke to him. That is, his mouth opened and closed, but Caleb didn’t have a fuckin’ clue what he said.
“What?” Caleb asked.
“Time for you and Will to mingle. Andi and the others will stay here. Come back in ten minutes.”
Mingle. AKA nose around for a convenient staircase to lead downstairs. Assuming there was a basement. They were working off a hunch. Ten minutes. Yeah. Caleb could do that. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Nat and I are going to talk to the minders.”
Caleb grabbed his beer bottle and set off, toward the bar. The counter ran the full length of one wall, with topless wait staff, both male and female. Equal-opportunity nudity. He dodged a bunch of loud-voiced city types and sidestepped two young guys—students?—with their tongues practically hanging out. He felt like slapping them on the back and asking, First time here? But he didn’t. Up ahead was the dull, green glow of a FIRE EXIT sign. Always good to know where that was.
What was going on inside his head? He felt spaced out.
Keep going along the wall—that was his job here. He clutched his beer like a lifeline and worked his way further along.
“Nothing on this side,” said Will’s voice in Caleb’s earpiece. “Going back to the table.”
Caleb needed to sit down. He also needed to breathe, but his lungs weren’t working properly. They were tight, holding onto the oxygen he wanted. Too much noise in here. Strobes, flashing in his eyes. People, crushing him on both sides.
Jesus. He wanted to run. Grab the emergency-exit door and sprint outside.
He needed to get back to the table. Get one of the others to check the walls and look for the basement. Holy fuck, if he didn’t get out of here soon, he was going to die. Keel over. Right here.
He was wheezing, every breath pained, his lungs burning.
The table was in sight. Devin shouted in Andi’s ear. Will laughed. Were they laughing at Caleb? He didn’t care. He had to sit before he fell down.
His stool was gone. Fuck. He grabbed the table, the only thing that might hold him up. It jolted when he made contact, and the drinks lurched. A bottle fell, splashing beer over someone.
“You fucking asshole,” said a loud voice near his head. “You did that on purpose.”
The words were tinny, like a mosquito buzzing in his ear. Caleb didn’t have the energy to reply. His knees crumpled, and he sank to the floor, another drink crashing at his side.
A voice chattered in his earpiece. Too. Much. He ripped the thing out of his ear. More voices sounded above him, but he put his arms over his head, blocking them out. Blocking everything out.
“Take this,” said another voice. “Open your mouth and breathe in. In, Caleb.”
He was dying. Having a fucking heart attack, right here, in a strip club. What a fuckin’ way to go. He opened his mouth a little, and a chunk of plastic was jammed in.
“Breathe,” said Andi.
There was a short hiss, and a metallic taste at the back of his throat.
“Again,” said Andi. “It’s my asthma inhaler. It’ll help unblock your airways.”
Like a switch was flicked, his lungs relaxed. Caleb sucked in a breath, and then another. The pain in his chest eased. He leaned his head back with a thunk and rested it on the wall behind him. Closed his eyes. Waited for the world to stop spinning.
“You off your head already?”
Caleb opened his eyes and met Griff’s angry gaze.
“He’s having a panic attack, you moron.” Andi shoved Griff in the arm. “Give him some space.”
Panic attack? Yeah. That was what it was. Caleb shouldn’t have come here. It was too much. “Got to get out,” he mumbled.
“Come on up.” Andi was holding his arm. She hauled him to his feet. “Stay here, butt-wipe,” she told Griff. “I’ll be right back. Devin, come with us. I don’t want to leave him outside on his own. And someone tell Jonathan.”
Caleb hated feeling vulnerable. As soon as he could, he wriggled free of Andi’s arm and walked by himself. He had to leave. He couldn’t stay another minute inside the club. With Andi and Devin flanking him, he burst out through the door and onto the street again. Cool drizzle fell from a starless sky, and a stiff breeze whipped a crumpled paper bag along the pavement, before skittering into the gutter.
He could breathe out here. His heart might stop trying to dance a fandango inside his chest. “I’m good,” he said to the others. “Thanks.”
“You sure?” Devin peered at him like he was a zoo animal or something.
“Sure,” he repeated. He had a question for Andi. “How did you know? And thanks.”
She scuffed her toes and wouldn’t meet his gaze. “The panic attack, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
She glanced up at him, then away. “Dunno. Just a guess.”
That was a barefaced lie if ever he heard one, but she’d saved his ass, and he wasn’t
going to push her. “Good call. And thanks for the inhaler. It’s a fucking miracle worker.”
“No worries.” She looked directly at him. “I have to get back in. You going home?”
He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Dunno. I might hang around and keep watch on the visa place some more.”
As he spoke, his phone vibrated inside his pocket. It was a text from Emma.
Emma: What are you doing outside the strip club???
What? He spun on his toes, and there she was, on a nearby corner with a couple of women. “Hey,” he called. “What are you doing here?”
She walked up, a smile on her face. “Hi Devin,” she said to Devin. When she reached Caleb, she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek on a wave of alcohol fumes. “Don’t tell me you’re having a night out?”
“We’ll get back,” said Andi. “See you later.”
Caleb nodded to Andi and Devin, and then turned his attention to Emma. “Nah. I’m not sure what I’m doing.”
“We’re going to eat at the Greek place, over the road,” she said. “Why don’t you come too?”
If he wanted to keep an eye on the visa place, that’d work perfectly. “Sure. Sounds like a great idea.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The Greek restaurant was bustling, and Caleb hesitated on the doorstep. Could he cope without having another stupid panic attack?
Emma tucked her arm through his. She’d introduced him to her friends, Kelly and Louise, and chattered at speed about the ten-pin bowling. She was slightly drunk, and that always made her talkative.
“Don’t tell me you’re driving home after this?” he asked her, stalling his entry into the restaurant.
“Don’t be silly. I’m staying at Kel’s tonight.”
“I live in Miramar,” said Kelly. “We’ll grab an Uber home and drop Louise on the way.”
He nodded, and that was when the waitress spotted him. “Hi,” she said. “Back so soon? Table for four? In the window again?”
“Please,” he said, and the group followed the girl to the same table he had before.
“Ooh,” said Emma, teasing. “Did you have a date earlier? And you still haven’t said what you were doing at the strip club.”
“He was watching girls take their clothes off, Em,” said Louise with a laugh. “That’s what you do there.”
“Yeah, yeah. I went with… uh… friends,” he said. This place was better for his equilibrium. Even if it was noisy, there wasn’t the crush of people. He could talk, and hear the women when they spoke. “It’s not my thing, though.”
“The flowers are cute,” said Emma. “They suit your tough-guy image.”
The lei was still around his neck. “You can have them.” He placed the garland over her head.
“The perfect accessory,” she said, her cheeks pink. “I need a picture for Mark.” She held up her phone for a selfie. “Come on. Huddle up,” she said. “You too, Caleb.”
She took the photo and sent it to Mark. “I’m sharing it with you guys, as well,” she announced.
Moments later, Caleb’s phone pinged with her text.
The waitress was lurking nearby, a sheaf of menus in her hand. “If you can order quickly, it’d be good,” she said. “The entertainment starts in ten minutes, and it gets a bit noisy.”
With every minute that passed, Caleb felt more human. His brain was firing on all cylinders again, and the adrenaline levels were receding. From where he sat, he had a good view of the supposed visa office. In the short time Emma and her friends debated what to eat, two more men entered the place across the road. They used the same routine as the others. A message on their phone, look up at the camera, and in they went.
What were they doing in there? These last two were more casually dressed, but still looked affluent and not in need of a visa. Were they buying drugs? If so, it’d be a quick transaction, and then they’d be out again.
Caleb pressed his phone against the window and snapped a picture, then checked the quality. The ambient street lighting meant it was okay. Not great, but enough to get a feel for the clientele. Another two men approached, and this time Caleb got a photo of their faces along with the timestamp.
“What are you doing?” Emma asked him. “What’s going on over there?”
He couldn’t tell her, and he was shit at lying to her face. “It’s work related. Sorry.”
Her eyes grew wide. “O-kay. The strip club too?”
“Can’t talk about it.”
She nodded. “Gotcha.”
A man emerged from the visa office, and Caleb snapped his picture. Was this someone different? Whatever the place did, it was busy at night.
“Let’s order a selection of dishes to share,” said Kelly.
Caleb nodded. He wasn’t here for the food, but it made a good cover.
They’d no sooner ordered, than the house lights dimmed and a couple ascended the steps to the centre stage. Music rang out, and the dance began. It was noisy and lively, and the audience was soon clapping and foot stamping along.
Was it like this every night? And what would it sound like if you were underneath it?
Maybe the basement they looked for wasn’t underneath the nightclub after all.
He needed to check in with the rest of his team.
Caleb dug his hand into his pocket and found his earpiece. He couldn’t talk here. Too noisy.
He leaned forward and tapped Emma’s arm. “Going to the bathroom,” he said in her ear.
She nodded, her attention on the couple on the dais.
He pushed the earpiece into place as he walked. Where would the bathroom be? Was this a good opportunity to see if there was a basement?
A familiar sign hung by a wooden door, and he pushed through it, to find a set of narrow stairs going down. Bonus.
There was nobody around, and the music and foot stamping were muffled by the door. He tapped the comm unit. “This is Caleb. Anything to report?”
Will responded right away. “Nothing to report. No downstairs access. Might not even be a downstairs. Where are you?”
“I’m in the Greek restaurant across the road. Checking it out. Anything from Jonathan or Nat?”
“Negative. They were talking to the bouncers a few minutes ago. All quiet here. Shout if you need assistance.”
“Will do. Caleb out.”
A long and narrow corridor had several doors opening from it, and since he was alone, Caleb investigated. Ladies’ bathroom. Gents’ bathroom. A supply cupboard, full of cleaning equipment. Another cupboard, filled with table linens. Another bathroom, with baby-changing facilities. All were spotlessly clean and fresh smelling.
This must be the least likely place ever to house an illegal brothel. Was he wasting his time?
The last door opened onto more stairs going down. His curiosity sparked to life. This was more promising. He glanced over his shoulder. He was alone.
Eight stairs curved around on themselves, with another door at the bottom. If this led where he hoped, it’d be locked.
It opened when he turned the handle.
Wary and listening for the slightest noise, he eased the door open a crack and peeked through the gap. It was dark and silent. No matter. He’d use his phone as a torch.
With a bright beam in his hand, he slipped through the door. The room wasn’t as large as he expected, and right there, by the door, was a light switch. One flick, and a single bulb lit overhead. He switched off his torch.
The room was empty, apart from a wall filled with shelves. Dusty, unused wine racks. It felt cool down here, and damp, and Caleb was completely alone, apart from the half-dozen spiders inhabiting the shelves.
The basement was smaller than he expected—only the size of the entertainment area in the dining room. The restaurant had a huge floor space, compared to this. And thinking about the restaurant… Where exactly was he, in relation to the stage? Probably off to the side of the main area. Maybe underneath the kitchens.
&
nbsp; Was there another room down here that he was missing? He looked closely at the walls, but they were plain brick. Nothing to see. Not much to hear, either. The noise from the dancing was faint. Muffled.
He pressed the comm button. “This is Caleb. Nothing underneath the restaurant. Everything checks out.”
Jonathan said, “The club seems to be legit. Looks like a wasted journey, but we’ll stay another half-hour and talk to more people. How about you?”
“Yeah. Let me know when you leave. Caleb out.”
“Roger that. Jonathan out.”
A creak sounded behind him, and he spun around. He wasn’t sure who was the most startled—him or the young girl wearing kitchen whites.
“What are you doing in here?” The girl clutched a bundle of napkins to her chest. “You shouldn’t be down here.”
What the hell could he say? “I was trying to take a call, and I couldn’t get any signal.”
“I’m glad it’s you,” she said. “I heard a voice, and I was freaking out a bit. I thought it was one of the ghosts.”
She believed him. Now he just had to retreat upstairs.
“No ghosts.” He managed to smile. “There’s no such thing.”
“I don’t know,” she said and hugged the napkins tighter. “We’ve all heard them. Faint, like, but definitely women. They cry in the night.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Caleb froze. “Where do you hear them? I mean, where from?”
The girl gestured at the wine racks. “That side of the cellar, usually. There’s all sorts of stories. That they were murdered in here and bricked up in the bunker, or that—”
Wait. “What?”
“I know. It’s a crazy story, aye.” She shrugged. “I need to ask you to go back upstairs.”
“In a minute. What bunker?”
“I don’t know. That’s what they call it.” She gave him a tentative smile. “Now please, sir, go upstairs.”
Caleb needed to talk to Jonathan. He followed the girl up the stairs, and then ducked into the bathroom and pressed the Transmit button. “It’s Caleb. I’ve found something. Can you get outside to talk?”
