Thirty-Three and a Half Shenanigans (36 page)

“Don’t forget your friend disappeared while working there. There’s no reason for you to go at all,” he said. “I could just send Jed and Merv to check it out.”

“What if someone recognizes them? Then we might not get anything at all. Besides, I can force a vision if I need to get more information.”

“But what if someone recognizes
you?
I’d rather Jed get nabbed than you.”

“No,” I said, glancing at the building, thankful Neely Kate was still inside. The less anyone knew about Mason’s possible involvement, the better. “I’m doing this.”

He was silent for several seconds. “You’ve proven yourself resourceful on several occasions,” he said, not necessarily sounding happy about it. “You’re determined to do this, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“When are you supposed to show up?”

“At seven. In fifteen minutes.”

“Check in with me by ten. If I haven’t heard from you, I’m sending Jed to check on you.”

Oddly enough, I found that reassuring.

I had no idea that so many men in Fenton County were obsessed with breasts. But then again, Joe had told me that there were twenty-five thousand residents in the county—if half were male, I supposed thirty men was still a low percentage.

I’d been behind the bar for nearly two hours, and while I wasn’t topless, I still got plenty of men checking out my chest. It was a good thing I wore Neely Kate’s pushup bra to give them something to look at.

For the most part, the men sat at tables, staring at the stage. The girls took turns dancing on the pole, stripping off their multiple layers of underwear until all that was left was a tiny G-string.

Some of the men noticed me behind the bar and came to the counter to get drinks instead of letting the girls who were walking around get them. Most of them ordered beer, but some of them ordered drinks I’d never heard of, let alone knew how to make. My plan to use an app on my phone didn’t pan out. The first time I pulled it out, I was told phones weren’t allowed. When I asked the guy I was working with how to make a bourbon neat, he shot me an irritated scowl. “Figure it out yourself.”

The bourbon was easy enough, but some of the other drinks were tougher. When I figured out that the men didn’t care, I started creating my own concoctions.

A bearded man who looked to be in his forties sidled up to the bar. “Hey, sugar. Can you get me a drink, then come sit on my lap?”

I shot him a scowl. “I’ll get you the drink. Someone else can sit on your lap.” I got him his beer and watched him shuffle back to his table.

“You’ll never make any money that way,” Kip, the bartender who was working with me, said.

I tried not to look surprised. In addition to my drink recipe inquiries, I’d been asking leading questions during some of our lulls, and he’d been annoyingly tight-lipped.

“Some men might get off on you being cold, but most of them are here because they’re lonely.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Some guys will pay girls just to sit and talk to ’em. But the guys who go off to the little rooms are lookin’ for more than that.”

“What little rooms?”

He laughed. “You really don’t know anything about this place, do you?”

“That’s why I’m back here. I’m trying to learn.”

He gave me a condescending grin. “Is that why you think you’re back here?”

What did that mean?

He shook his head with a smirk, then leaned his mouth close to my ear. “You see how some of the girls are dancing on guys’ laps?”

I’d spent most of my night trying not to notice. “Yeah.”

“If a guy pays more, she’ll take him to a VIP room.”

“And what happens in those?”

“It depends on who’s dancing and who’s asking.” He winked. “On Friday nights, from eleven until two a.m. or so, we see more action in those rooms than on any other night.”

“Why?”

He leaned into my side and reached behind me to cup my butt cheek. “Smart girls don’t ask questions here.”

I elbowed him as hard as I could. He grabbed his side, doubling over. “I think smart girls do ask questions,” I said. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have known you should have paid me twenty dollars to do that.”

He laughed. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet. But for the record—” his eyebrows rose playfully, “I would have needed a whole lot more than that for twenty dollars.”

I was never gonna let any man here get close enough for me to have to remember that piece of advice.

The crowd got bigger over the next hour, and I kept busy getting beers and making my bad mixed drinks. Amazingly enough, I’d started to get the hang of working behind the bar, even if my drinks seemed be getting worse as the night wore on.

The music changed, and a new dancer emerged on the stage. She wore a sequined, bedazzled red bra and a black wrap-around skirt. When she started her routine, it was apparent she was a real dancer. Her moves were fluid and graceful, yet inherently seductive. Every man in the room watched as she put her back to the pole, grabbed it overhead, and arched her pelvis out. I’d seen the other three girls working the place do it all night long. With them, it had looked gross and tasteless, but this dancer was classy—which seemed like an oxymoron in this place—and she was successfully seducing the room.

She spun her body under her arms and moved to the other side of the pole, unknotting the skirt’s tie at her hips when she looked up, her long brown hair bouncing around her shoulders.

I’d seen her somewhere before. Where?

Kip leaned into my ear, raising his voice to be heard over the music. “Diamond brings the boys to the yard. And a few girls too.”

Diamond? She looked nothing like the woman I’d seen on the stage that morning. While she hadn’t looked girl-next-door, she hadn’t looked like this siren currently entrancing a room full of men.

“That’s why the boss likes her.”

Then it hit me why I always experienced déjà vu in the office—Diamond was the woman from my vision in Billy Jack’s trailer. They’d been in the office at Gems.

“Ruby, we’re out of ice.” Kip handed me a bucket. “There’s an ice machine in the back. Go get some.”

I took the container and headed into the back room, thankful that I had a legitimate excuse to have a private place to text Skeeter. I pulled my cell phone out of my back pocket and cringed when I saw the time on my phone: 10:03. I hoped Skeeter hadn’t sent Jed, since Mason still hadn’t shown up, and I still hadn’t found out anything really useful. While I still wanted to find Dolly Parton, my top priority was Mason. I sent a quick text.

This is my first chance to text you. The owner will be here later. The bartender says lots of business takes place in VIP rooms between 11–2 on Friday nights.

I wasn’t sure what he’d make of it, but I knew it couldn’t be a coincidence that Dolly Parton and Nikko had disappeared on a Friday night. Had they seen or heard something in one of the private rooms? Maybe from the owner?

Skeeter texted back immediately.
Let me know when he’s there. Jed’s close on standby.

“Where’s that ice, Ruby?” Kip shouted.

I jumped and looked toward the door, wondering if he’d seen me on my phone, but all I could see was the back of the bar. “Coming!” I scooped the ice with one hand while texting Skeeter
Okay
with the other.

I sent Neely Kate a text next.
I’m okay. No need to worry.

I’d nearly filled the bucket, and she still hadn’t answered. She was parked in the dirt track lot behind the club
.
Had someone found her? But just as I was close to a full-blown panic, my phone vibrated with her response.
Okay. I fell asleep.

I stuffed my phone in my front pocket and hefted the bucket up on my hip. When I carried it out front, Kip pointed to a bin where I could pour it. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry.”

The cooler was already over half full, so when I finished pouring the ice in, it was overflowing.

“Why did we need more ice?” I asked. “We’ve mostly sold draft beer.”

Kip’s lips curled into a menacing grin, and he tapped my nose. “Remember what I said about smart girls asking questions. Are you a smart one or a stupid one?”

Fear slithered up my back and settled into the nape of my neck. “I’m not trying to be hard-headed, Kip. I just want to do a good job so Mud will be happy he hired me.”

“Honey, you could screw up every order you take tonight, and Mud would be happy.”

While that was probably supposed to be reassuring, it was anything but. I couldn’t think of a single reason for the man’s approval that didn’t give me the creeps.

Diamond was still dancing, and I found myself mesmerized again. I dragged my eyes from her and worked on filling more beer orders. When I glanced up at the door, I saw two men talking to the bouncer. He pointed to a table in a dark corner by the door. The room was full of men, so it took a second to figure out why they’d grabbed my attention. Then I came up with two reasons.

First, they were the only men in the room who weren’t paying attention to the woman on stage. And two, one of the guys was Rich Lowry, one of the men from Skeeter’s meeting.

I couldn’t think of a single reason why Skeeter would send Rich Lowry to check on me—from what Jed had told me, he was bad news on a silver platter. Which meant Rich was probably in cahoots with the owner of Gems. I had no idea if his being here had anything to do with Mason, but I planned to find out.

I hurried over to Kip. “I want to take those guys’ orders.” I pointed toward their table, but kept my hand below the counter.

His eyebrows rose. “Once you step around the counter, you become fair game, Ruby.”

I took a deep breath. Would I get information from them if I served them drinks? I was bound to get more than if I kept hiding back here.

I gave a nervous shrug, and he laughed, shaking his head. “Go ahead.”

One of the other girls was already working her way back to Rich’s table. She shot me a dirty look when she realized where I was headed and that I was going to beat her. I was breathless by the time I reached the edge of the small table.

Both of the men stared up at me, and a grin stretched Rich’s mouth. “You’re new.”

So
he
wasn’t new. I put my hand on my hip and tried to give him a suggestive smile. It felt more awkward than sexy, but hopefully they wouldn’t notice. “Tonight’s my first night.”

“You don’t say?” the other guy said, scooting back in his seat and spreading his legs slightly. “I’d love to show you the ropes.”

Disgusting
. But I was scared to death. Jed had called Rich a sadistic bastard, and while I hoped the bouncers would keep him from hurting me, I couldn’t be sure. What in the world was I doing? But it was too late to tuck tail and run. I’d already committed to this. I was good and stuck. I forced a laugh and let my hand drop from my hip to my side. “Let’s get your drinks first.”

Rich’s dark eyes were glued to my chest. If his interest helped me get information, I’d send a personal thank you note to the creator of the pushup bra. Especially if his eyes were the only part of him that touched me. As though he sensed me watching him, his gaze lifted to my face.

I smiled slightly and tilted my head to the side. “That’s on the menu for later. Right now it’s just drinks, gentlemen.” Where in creation had that come from?

His grin spread, and his gaze reminded me of a bobcat hunting its prey. “A scotch on the rocks.”

“A beer,” the other guy said, but my eyes were locked with Rich’s. He was obviously the top dog at the table, and I wasn’t about to waste time on the small fries.

I put my hand on my hip again, trying to hide the fact that it was shaking. “I’ll be right back.” I sounded way more confident than I felt, which had to be a good thing.

“And we’ll be right here waiting,” Rich said, his eyes on my booty as I walked away.

I went behind the counter, and Kip wandered over to me. “I watched you out there. You did good. I’ll show you how to make his drink.”

His about-face made me suspicious. “You’ve refused to help me with drinks again and again tonight. Why now? Why him?”

“He’s special.” He waggled his eyebrows. “And if you keep in good with him, you won’t need to know how to bartend.”

I didn’t tell him that I didn’t plan to make a habit out of this. Especially with Rich Lowry.

He grabbed a glass and scooped it into the ice bin, and I turned my back to him, facing the back wall as I grabbed a mug for the beer. Making sure Kip wasn’t watching, I sent a text to Skeeter as quickly as I could.

Lowry’s here.

I stuffed my phone back into my pocket and returned to the counter.

“You’re a lot like Sapphire, a girl who worked here until last week.” Kip watched me with an intense gaze that made me worry he’d seen my phone.

My heart jump-started into overdrive, but I tried to look confused. “How so?”

“She liked powerful men too. Most of the girls are afraid of ’em.” He picked up a bottle of scotch and poured it into a glass full of ice. “This is why we needed more ice, by the way. Most of the high-rollers show up right around now.”

“There’re high rollers in Fenton County?” I asked in shock as I pulled the draft beer.

“They’re not all from Fenton County. We get customers from Louisiana and the neighboring counties too.”

Considering we were less than thirty minutes from the state line, that shouldn’t have surprised me.

Kip handed me the two glasses. “Ask them if they want to put the drinks on their tab. Most men have to pay per drink, so it will show them
you
know they’re special.”

“Why are you helping me?”

“Keeping them happy is good for business. But Ruby,” he leaned into my ear, “just remember: be careful when you play with fire, or you’re liable to get burned.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled as I headed for their table. What kind of fire was I headed into?

I set their drinks on the table. “Would you gentlemen like to put these on a tab?”

“She thinks I’m a gentleman.” Rich laughed, sending chills down my spine. “Yes, darlin’, I
do
want to put it on my tab so I can save all my cash for you.” He put a hundred-dollar bill on the table.