Shallow Grave-J Collins 3 (20 page)

“Tell me if he isn’t around you’ll be my childbirth 221

coach.”

“I’ll be in the delivery room, cursing men, and helping you breathe every painful step of the way.”

“Tell me you won’t abandon me when my life revolves around dirty diapers, bottles, and baby stuff .”

“Th

at I can’t do.”

Stricken, Kim gaped at me. “What?”

“I draw the line at changing diapers, my friend.”

She burst into tears. “Oh, you. ’Bout gave me heart failure, Jules.”

I handed her a Kleenex. “Congratulations, Kim.

I’m happy for you. But for the record? I’m serious about the diaper thing.”

222

I called Crystal and told her I’d be late. She wasn’t happy, but what could she do? Fire me?

I scooted home to slither into my bar wench clothes and knock back some painkillers. Aspirin with codeine helped my mood. A black turtleneck concealed the gash on my neck.

Th

e parking lot behind the club was full. Th e service entrance door was unlocked. With the paranoia Martinez’ security team had about safety measures?

Somebody had dropped the ball. Big time.

I dumped my stuff in the last open locker in the employee break room. Knocked on Crystal’s door.

No answer.

“Crystal?” I eased the door open and slipped inside.

Dave straightened up from the safe tucked in the 223

corner of the room, a wad of bills in his hand. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’ barging in here? Th is

is a private offi

ce.”

Question was: What was
Dave
doing in here? Unat-tended? “I’m looking for Crystal.”

“She ain’t here. Now, get out.”

“But—”

“But what?” Crystal said behind me. She skirted me and scooted behind her desk. Th

e glow from the com-

puter screen turned her black hair electric blue. “Is there a problem?”

My gaze fl itted between Dave and Crystal. Why wasn’t she demanding to know why Dave was loitering in front of an open safe with a mitt full of cash?

Maybe Crystal was involved with the employee theft.

Bringing the shortages to Martinez’ attention would throw suspicion to the waitstaff and away from her. But that wouldn’t be smart. So why wasn’t she freaking out about Dave?

“She’s waitin’ for your answer,” Dave snapped.

Th

e smarmy fucker didn’t bother to hide the money clutched in his grubby hand. “No. I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry I’m late.”

“No biggie. You’re in the back section.”

“Fine.” I’d made it to the storage areas, when a hand clapped on my shoulder. I wheeled around, resisting the 224

urge to lead with my fi sts.

Dave sneered. “Don’t know what hard luck story you told Crystal, but you pull this shit again and you’re out the door.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

His grip tightened. Made my skin crawl.

“I’m watchin’ you.”

Little did he know I was watching him too. Closer than ever. Maybe Crystal thought the shortages were from the tills when they were really from the safe after she counted both at the end of the night.

A niggling feeling persisted. Something was . . . off here. Th

is favor seemed too easy. Too obvious.

Out in the club, Trina slapped her tray on the counter. “Surprised to see you. Charity said you quit.”

“She wishes. Whatcha need?”

“Two Jack and Cokes and Miller Lite in a bottle.”

Trina was twitchy, shifting from side to side, scouring her section, tapping her fi ngers on the counter.

Her actions bothered me enough I decided to keep a close eye on her.

Trina fl itted between a bald guy nestled in the corner and a punk wasting air by the bathrooms. As the young tough sucked down the beer, she hotfooted it back to the cue ball. Another short verbal exchange between them and he nodded.

225

She picked up the empty lowball glass with a crumpled cocktail napkin stuck in the top from the bald guy’s table and sashayed back to the seedy-looking kid.

I almost missed it. Trina set the empty, dirty lowball glass on the punk’s table. He dropped an undisclosed amount of cash on her tray. She then revisited bald guy, gave him the other Jack and Coke on her tray and the money.

For all intents and purposes, it appeared she’d given the baldie a fresh drink and his change. My gaze swung back to the punk. Whatever had been in that glass, including the napkin, was gone.

Trina was stupid enough to sell drugs right under Tony’s nose? Unless . . . Martinez knew exactly what Trina was doing. Shit. Maybe this was her job. Acting ditzy and performing a slight of hand that’d make Criss Angel jealous.

Th

e dirtball kid vanished. An equally scraggly guy slid into the booth. Th

e process started all over again.

A diff erent cocktail waitress, another blonde (what was it with Martinez and blondes?) sidled up to the bar.

Her breasts were perky, her grin toothy, her hair shampoo commercial glossy. She looked about thirteen. “You’re new. I’m Megan.”

“Julie.”

Megan squinted at me. “Have we met? You seem 226

awfully familiar.”

I tamped down panic. “I get that a lot. What do you need, Megan?”

“Four Coors Light on tap for the bachelor party whooping it up in the back.”

While I poured, I asked, “How long have you been working here?”

“A little over a year. Good money. Which is probably why I haven’t punched Charity in the face.”

“You guys don’t hang out after hours?”

“Please. Th

e only reason she’s still here is because

she’s screwing . . .” Her gaze zoomed to the DJ booth.

“Never mind.”

A smidge of trepidation roiled in my belly. “Come on, Megan. You can’t dangle that hook and jerk the lure back before it even hits the water.”

Megan smiled coyly. “Okay. She’s bouncing on Dave’s pole.”

“Really? Th

is been going on a long time?”

“As long as I’ve been here.” Megan snitched a stack of bar napkins. “Charity-case thinks banging him will get her closer to dancing around that real pole.”

“Will it?”

“Hasn’t so far.”

Th

e guys surrounding this bar drank heavily while keeping their eyes glued to the stage. When my gaze 227

swept the bar as a whole, I had a hard time believing anyone outside of employees could get a hand in the cash drawers. Th

e missing cash had to be an inside job.

I suspected Martinez already knew that. He wasn’t stupid. So why had he really hired me?

I loaded glasses in the dishwasher. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dave’s paws in my cash register. I slammed the drawer shut so fast I nearly chopped off his fi ngers. “Keep your hand out of my till, Dave. I’m in charge of this station.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“I’d say a trained monkey, but I’m guessing that’s his job.” I jerked my thumb toward a bruiser with the banana yellow crew cut, eyeing me, ready to acquaint me with his fi sts.

Dave glared and he and monkey boy returned up front.

I breathed a sigh of relief, which lasted all of sixty seconds until Charity barreled over.

“What’d you say to Dave that pissed him off ?”

“None of your business.”

She angled closer and her eyes glittered with malice.

“You dumb bitch.”

My body hurt and I’d had enough verbal abuse today.

“Who do you think—” Th

e rest of her sentence dis-

appeared on a gasp because I stretched the hose on the soda dispenser and sprayed her chest with Coke.

228

Charity shrieked like a teen scream queen.

I tugged the striped tubing and pointed the nozzle at her head. “Back off . Th

e next thing I aim for is your

bouff ant.”

She hissed, “Th

is’ll be your last shift. I’ll make sure

of it.”

“I wish,” I muttered to her back.

Seemed I’d scared away not only Charity, but also the other cocktail waitresses from my station. I used the time to study the clientele.

My gaze landed on two men at the end of the bar.

Something about those guys clicked in my memory. I’d seen them someplace recently . . . but, where?

Th

e one on the left had stringy hair, a slight frame.

His companion had thick black sideburns, the envy of Elvis impersonators everywhere.

When stringy hair guy twirled his barstool to ogle the strippers, I saw the back of his red jacket, identical to the one Lang Everett had worn. Whoa.

Th

is guy was June Everett’s brother. So much for my undercover work.

Th

en again, would he remember me after our brief meeting at June’s place? Probably not. My sense of relief was short-lived when I realized the other guy was his cousin. Shit. Chances were much better Cousin Willie
would
recognize me since I’d aimed a gun at his father’s head.

229

Crystal made a beeline for me, blocking me from view, ending any chance of analyzing their behavior.

Her eyes raked me up and down. “Julie. You’re off the fl oor. Now.”

Inside her offi

ce, Crystal let loose. “What the hell

are you doing? Mouthing off to Dave? Spraying down my cocktail waitress? You’re supposed to be—”

“I’m doing exactly what I was hired to do.”

Crystal lit a cigarette.

I snagged one from her pack and did the same.

Yuck. Menthol.

“Okay, wise ass, you’ve been on shift two nights.

Who do you suspect?”

“Everyone. Interesting, that Dave and Charity are involved after hours. Kinda makes you wonder what they’re up to during working hours, doesn’t it?”

Th

e glare Crystal shot me rivaled the club’s spotlights.

“So, yeah, Dave is on top of the list. Why does he have access to the safe?”

“Because he’s head of security and sometimes he needs to make change for the diff erent stations.”

Not a valid reason. “Who else?”

“Just me. Dave doesn’t have the combination to the safe, the only time he’s allowed in the safe is when I’m here.”

I stayed mum.

230

“What? Dave has worked here for three years and he’s a valued member of the Hombres.”

“Which is why no one would suspect him, that whole code of honor bullshit, right?” I inhaled. Let it out slowly. “Before you ask, I don’t have proof. But Dave having unfettered access to the safe and the cash drawers might be too big a temptation to resist. Did the tills come up short last night?”

“A hundred bucks.”

“Who knows about the shortage?”

She squirmed. “I told Dave.”

Great. “Th

ink Dave blabbed to Charity?”

“Maybe.”

“What about that other bouncer?”

“Beau? Nah. Beau’s muscles are in his arms, not his head. He practically has to drop his pants to give customers back change from a twenty.”

I hid my smile.

“What are you going to put in your little report to Martinez?”

My humor disappeared. Crystal didn’t like me tattling on her. Too fucking bad. “First: stricter enforcement on who can be in the tills and the safe. Second: Dave needs a Hombres refresher course on security measures because his suck.”

“You don’t know—”

231

“—know how I got in tonight? Th

e service en-

trance. I waltzed right in. Your door wasn’t locked. Oh, and you
weren’t
in the offi

ce when I caught Dave with his

hands in the safe before I came on shift.”

Th

e color drained from her face.

“Where were you?”

“In the goddamn bathroom. I was gone for, like, two minutes, max.”

“But you left him in here? Alone?”

“Yeah. Shit.”

“As manager, the lax security measures are gonna come down on you.” I fi nished my cigarette before she spoke again.

“Anything else I need to fi x before Tony pays me a visit?”

“Not that I can think of right now.”

“Good, cause I’m sick of dealing with you. Get out of here.”

My body throbbed from my run-in with Roland.

Even hurt to put my damn coat on. Th

e cold night air

sent a shiver though me. Other night noises were notice-ably absent.

I’d nearly made it to my truck when an ominous sil-houette glided along the backside of the Dumpster.

My fi ght instinct spiked.

Had Roland Hawk followed me from White Plain?

232

Or maybe Martinez had sent one of his goons for me. Or maybe it was just a run of the mill creep hanging out in the parking lot of a strip bar trolling for easy prey. Fuck.

I was so whipped Jericho could take me in a fi ght.

Th

e shadow materialized into none other than Bo-Bo the security brute.

I wasn’t exactly relieved. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for you. I’ve got a message from Dave.”

Huddled in my coat, it probably looked like I cowered in fear. But when I jammed my hand in my pocket, I realized I’d forgotten to take out the stun gun. Bo-Bo would get a shocking surprise if he came one step closer.

“I’m supposed to warn you that if you ever question his authority again, he’ll make sure your bartending days are over.”

I merely blinked at him, without visibly shrinking away, which confused poor Bo-Bo.

Another menacing step. “Do you understand?”

“Yep. Give Dave a message. If he ever threatens me again, I’ll use this on
him
, not you.” I whipped out the stunner and placed it on the largest target—Bo-Bo’s chest—and pressed the button.

He hit the ground like a felled pine tree.

Huh. Since I’d used the stun gun twice in one day, maybe the damn thing was starting to pay for itself.

233

After what I’d been through with bullies today, I felt no guilt whatsoever as I stepped over his twitching form, scrambled in my truck and roared off .

234

Sheriff Richard’s phone call yanked me out of a deep sleep early the following morning. He asked me to meet him at Th