Redeeming the Night (7 page)

“No reason to follow the same leads.” Eric inspected the side of the road. Gum, cigarette butts, and bits of glass, but that was all.

“Exactly. They’re having their lab work on the shoe print and the doll.” Aaron made a note on his tablet.

Eric’s gut said the normal avenues—interviews with the girl’s school friends and knocking on doors at ten o’clock at night—wouldn’t work. And the regular service people wouldn’t have taken a child from the homes where they were employed. But the interviews had to be done, and the sooner they got started the better.

After hours talking to neighbors, weepy little girls, and irate parents, they headed back to the car. Eric stifled a growl. “It always feels like a waste of time asking questions of people who know nothing.”

Aaron said, “It’s late. I’m starving and could use a drink. What do you say?”

“I’m in,” Max said, jogging up from behind them.

He hadn’t exactly been invited, but Eric caught Aaron’s eye and shrugged. The animated young cop might distract from the fact that they had to wait for tests to come back before they could hope to save the girl.

“Fine,” Aaron said, clapping Max on the shoulder, “but you get the first round.”

“As long as I get to pick the place,” Max said.

“As long as it has food,” Eric agreed.

• • •

It was a club off the Strip called The Layer, and according to Max it was the hottest new bar in town. The outside looked like a warehouse. As they pulled in, the only tip-off that it housed a club was the line of people wrapped around the building.

“Looks like there’s a wait,” Eric said, getting out of the car. “I’d rather eat fast food than wait in that line.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get in.” Max led the way with a swagger. Eric and Aaron exchanged smirks behind his back as they followed. Max had already proved entertaining.

To one side of the door stood a woman in a black leather pantsuit holding a clipboard. On either side of her stood two extremely large men. “Obviously hired for their personality,” Eric whispered to Aaron as Max walked up to the woman who had just waved a couple more people inside.

Max placed a hand on the small of her back and whispered in her ear. After a second, she flipped her dark red hair back, looked all three men over, and smiled.

Reaching into her very low-cut blouse she removed a business card and handed it to Max with a wink.

Max nodded to her, tucked the card in his pocket, and led the way into the club.

“Do we want to know what you said to her?” Eric asked once they’d picked out a table to the right of the large dance floor.

Max grinned. “No.”

Aaron asked, “Will I have to arrest you?”

Max’s smile remained as he waved a waitress over.

“What’ll it be, boys?” The waitress seemed to be wearing a form-fitting tuxedo, but once Eric looked closer he realized it was body paint. All she really wore was a small string bikini.

They ordered a pitcher of beer and a pizza.

“Are you attached, Detective?” Max asked Eric.

“Married to the job.”

“Then here’s to open relationships,” Max toasted, and the other two lifted their beers in response.

“Vivian is understanding about the job that way,” Aaron said of his wife. “Speaking of Viv, you know you can’t leave town without coming by the house to say hello.”

“I will,” Eric said. “Even so, I can’t stay in town long. My old partner got married and is having a baby. For some reason, she wants me to be there when she delivers.”

“When is she due?”

“Two weeks. I hope we find Olivia before then.”

The three of them sat in silence for a while before Max cleared his throat. “In the spirit of open relationships,” he picked up where he’d left off, “I’ve got a game for us to play.” Max rubbed his hands together. “We take turns picking women for the other to get their numbers. Aaron, your relationship is as open as Viv will allow, so you keep score. We each have five minutes to get a phone number.”

“If we don’t get it?”

“You do a shot of whiskey,” Max replied.

Aaron let out an exaggerated “ooh.”

Max laughed. “It’s actually a good thing. The more you drink, the more you relax. The more relaxed you are, the more likely you’ll get phone numbers.” Max sipped his beer regally. “Now, who to send you after first … ”

“Her in the green.” Aaron indicated one of three women who had just sat down from a turn on the dance floor.

Eric took a sip and stood. “Wait, what happens when I get the number?”

“Then I take a shot of whiskey,” Max said.

“The idea is for us to just get drunk then.” When Max nodded, Eric chuckled and made his way over to the table. He’d had a high tolerance for alcohol before he became a werewolf. Now, poor Max didn’t stand a chance.

“Good evening, ladies,” he said when he stood at their table. “My friend over there dared me to get your phone numbers. So, would you mind if I joined you?”

They studied him warily, but one waved him to a seat. Max was going to get very drunk.

The women watched him as if he were about to pounce. He smiled and touched the hand of the woman on his right. “I’d rather leave you in peace, but my buddy over there thinks I have a problem picking up women.”

The woman on his right leaned toward him. “I doubt that.” She moistened her lips and ran her thumb across his index finger. “I’m Jean.”

“Yeah, well.” He placed his other hand on top of hers and smiled at her friends. “If I came back with all three of your numbers I’d be off to a good start.”

“I’ll bet you would.” The one on his left, not nearly as inebriated as her friends, looked him over closely.

“Amanda’s our DD,” Jean said, disengaging her hand and scribbling on a napkin. “It’s even my real number.”

“That’s great. Thanks.” He took the napkin from her and raised an eyebrow at the other two, breaking out a charming expression that he used to use with his nana to get extra dessert. “Please.”

“Oh, God, don’t beg.” Amanda wrote a number down and passed it to him, the hint of a smile playing on her lips.

The last woman leaned over the table to run her napkin over his lips. “Mine’s real, too.” Her dress dipped to expose impressive cleavage. “Everything’s real.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Eric smiled at each of them then left, very much aware he was being watched as he walked back to his table. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the women’s giggles.

Aaron grinned at Eric. “They were looking at your ass.”

Ignoring him, Eric counted each napkin as he put it down in front of Max. “That’s three.” He waved to a passing waitress. “My friend here will need three shots of whiskey, and please leave the bottle.

“That was too easy,” Max said.

The waitress set the three shots in front of Max. Then another arrived with their pizza.

Eric slid a hot slice from the pie. He nodded to Aaron and before the second bite said, “It’s good.”

Aaron chuckled. “Maybe we’ll need some hot wings, too.”

Over the course of the evening Eric did well but struck out enough that even he felt a little fuzzy. When he came back to the table after trying to get the number of a thin, short-haired redhead he had to admit he was having fun. “Even the ‘my friends are daring me’ didn’t work with her.” Eric threw back the waiting shot. “She’s a lesbian.”

“You don’t know that,” Aaron said, munching on a buffalo wing.

“That’s what she told me.” Eric picked up a wing and watched Max with interest.

Already wiping his mouth and popping a mint, Max stood. “You didn’t ask right.” He smoothed his clothes and sauntered over to the redhead.

Eric shook his head mournfully as he watched his new friend.

“You think she’s really a lesbian?” Aaron asked.

“Oh, yeah.” Eric was already feeling sorry for Max. “See that large blonde woman coming up behind him?”

“Oh no.”

The large woman topped Max by a foot and a half. She placed a hand on his shoulder and apparently squeezed, because his face contorted in pain as he jumped and grabbed his shoulder.

Though his back was to Eric, he knew Max would be talking fast.

Eric sipped at his beer, trying to dilute the whiskey coursing through his system. “Twenty bucks says he gets their numbers.”

Aaron studied the trio for a moment and agreed to the bet. “That blonde looks like she’s going to crush him.”

They spent another minute intensely watching the action and when the two women kissed Eric felt his blood heat. The redhead passed a napkin to Max and the women whispered to each other as they watched him walk away.

“And that’s how it’s done.” Max placed the napkin on the table displaying the women’s names and number.

“Damn.” Aaron smacked the table and dug out a twenty.

“You bet against me.” Max tsked. “Everybody likes a little variety.”

Grinning, Eric toasted Max with the shot as he tucked the twenty in his pocket. The man was just too good. Eric had participated in a threesome once, back in his younger, more carefree days. Now, though, he needed more than a conquest. The game had been fun, but he knew he wouldn’t call any of the numbers in the stack in front of him.

Aaron counted up napkins. “You’re tied.”

“Okay, man, tiebreaker time,” Max said. He gestured toward the bar’s entrance. “Two Latina babes just walked in. You have to get numbers for both of them. Damn, lucky bastard, they’re twins.”

Eric turned and looked. It took a moment to sort through the crowd, but he soon caught sight of the women, tall and attractive. Tan skin glowed in the lights, and long black hair fell straight to the middle of their backs.

“Okay, I got this.” Eric stood and straightened his shirt.

He weaved his way around the tables, and as he neared the twins he reached out a hand to tap the closest on the shoulder. Then it was like he’d been smacked. This woman smelled similar to the blonde with the purple G-string at the casino earlier. No. No, it
was
her.

She had changed her appearance. How did she do that? His hazy mind worked on that a bit. She was supernatural—she must be—but what kind? Not that he cared, really. Still, it put her in another class altogether. It didn’t hurt that she smelled amazing.

Before he could touch her shoulder, she turned. He let his fingers rest lightly on her shoulder, then glide down her arm. “Hello.” His voice felt thick. His breath came fast. Never in his life had he reacted to a woman this way, except maybe when he was eight.

“Hi,” the other woman responded, grinning at him. The color of her eyes seemed to spin.

Eric shook his head, the alcohol affecting him worse than he thought possible. He was seeing things. “Um, I’m Eric.” He reached out his hand to the other one.

“Nichole,” she said, then got an elbow and grunt from her twin. “Sandra Nichole. As she shook his hand, she turned to stare at her sister. “Uh,
Dana
, why don’t I get us a table?” She turned back to Eric. “Nice meeting you.”

Eric nodded at the retreating back and then turned to the woman who’d been in the corner of his mind since that afternoon. “I’m glad to see you again.”

Eric could see something like panic in her eyes. “What are you talking about?” She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never met you before.”

She fought the urge to moisten her lips. How could he know? She recognized him, of course, the man from the café that afternoon, but there was no way he could recognize her. Why would he say that? Was it a line he used to pick up women? She remained quiet, waiting for him to speak.

A moment passed, and he continued to smile at her. He could at least have the decency to look uncomfortable. She scanned the room. “Well, if that’s all then.”

His expression changed like lightning. “Wait.” He moved to grip her arm and stopped inches from her skin.

Even a person unaccustomed to reading emotions could sense he earnestly didn’t want her to walk away. To Ashley, he may as well have shouted it. She couldn’t fathom why he wanted her to stay so desperately.

Pleased to have maintained the advantage, and filled with curiosity, she clasped her hands in front of her and waited, allowing the corners of her mouth to twitch only slightly when he groped for something else to say.

When he did speak his voice seemed to rumble. “Want a drink?”

Unable to hold it back, she grinned and nodded once. Following him to a table, she rationalized the distraction. Nichole would be fine and perhaps better off without someone over her shoulder. Perhaps, if Ashley dealt with a less ripe man, it would help her maintain her edge. A bit of practice.

The table held several nearly empty food baskets which he stacked and pushed off to the side. Enjoying watching him squirm, she raised an eyebrow and leaned back. He shifted and waved for a waitress, tapping a staccato on the table while they waited.

After a moment, a waitress appeared and took their orders for white wine. Watching him carefully, Ashley could tell he had matched her order and wished she’d chosen something else.
Ah, too bad.

“So,” he croaked. He cleared his throat and then spoke again. “Are you visiting Vegas?”

Small talk. Easy. “No, I live here.” Easy but boring, and no reason not to play. “So, what about this weather?”

“Um, yeah, it’s hot,” he said. She watched his brow crease as he seemed to struggle for something else to say. Running a hand through his hair he sighed. “I don’t have anything amazing to say.”

“Really?” The sarcastic comment came out without a thought.

“Really.” He delivered his answer with such direct honesty she fought the impulse to giggle.

No, no giggling. She straightened her curving lips. What was she doing? She shouldn’t be sitting with him; she really should be with Nichole.

Thinking of her student, Ashley glanced around, found the woman standing at the bar, and caught her eye. Instead of the bundle of nerves Ashley expected, Nichole grinned, waved, and gave her a thumbs up. Ashley dipped her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. “She thinks I’m going to get lucky,” Ashley muttered.

“Your … sister?” The man across from her glanced around.

“Never mind.” Ashley regained his attention. “What’s your name?”