She parked on the street in front of The Pound, shoving the files back in the case. Thunder rolled above. The first winter storm was about to hit.
Heavy metal music pounded as she ran into the club. The stench of sweat mixed with stale perfume and smoke filled her lungs. Lights flashed. Bodies gyrated on the dance floor. A lot of bodies, considering it was only eight o’clock on a Tuesday night. Glancing around, she made a beeline for the burly bartender who stood behind a large marble bar.
He grinned, a gold tooth gleaming in the dim light. “Hi, pretty lady. What can I get you?”
“I have some papers for Paul,” she yelled over the loud music.
“He’s in a meeting.” The bartender nodded at a sparkling bar stool. The booming voice matched his large bulk. “Have a seat, have a drink, and he’ll be done in a few.”
She didn’t have time for this, but neither did she have a choice. She absolutely couldn’t lose any more clients. With a shrug, she slid onto the stool. “Rolling Rock, please.”
The guy slid the beer across the bar. “On the house.” He winked.
“Thanks.” She took a deep drink. The beer was light with a smooth finish, and she allowed herself to relax. The bartender loped down to the other end of the bar to serve two young women in tight tank tops and short skirts. Really short skirts.
The outside door opened and shut. A cool breeze wafted across her skin, and the hair prickled on the back of her neck. She turned, surveying the doorway.
A man, a large man, stood just inside. Smooth and graceful, he crossed to a table close to the doorway. He prowled like a panther on the hunt. A dark T-shirt covered a thick chest, while faded jeans rode low on his hips. Black hair fell to his shoulders, giving him a bad-boy look that matched the biker boots on his feet.
Two waitresses nearly collided in a rush to serve him. The buxom blonde got there first, and her ass actually twitched as she took his order.
He shouldn’t be there. Adrenaline whipped through Josie’s veins. The club catered to a young crowd, a partying crowd who liked to dance. The guy sitting across the room was no partier. Even more alarming, he did nothing to hide the fact that he didn’t belong. Arrogance and an air of apathy filtered around him in a deadly, frightening combination.
His glance at her increased her adrenaline rush. He looked away as the waitress dumped a beer in front of him. Long neck. The woman tripped in her heels as she moved on.
Josie’s breath caught in her throat. A sense of awareness pulled her gaze from the man at the table to the rear entry near the bathrooms. Another man, just as big as the first, leaned against the wall, a beer in his hand. His gaze settled on her. No expression. Just focus.
Danger. Between the two men, a sense of danger filtered through the club.
Josie shivered. Were they following her? Who the hell were they? They didn’t so much as acknowledge each other, but they didn’t fit in. Not in this club.
She’d left the gun in the jockey box of the car. Without a doubt, she needed a weapon. These had to be the men after Shane. Maybe. Or perhaps she’d lost her mind, and these guys were just looking for a good time.
Nope. The one standing ignored a chippy in barely there clothes to keep his gaze on Josie. They weren’t looking for a good time. The girl pouted out her bottom lip and flounced back to the dance floor.
“Hey, Paul’s free,” the bartender bellowed, flipping up an opening in the bar. Josie jumped, almost spilling her beer.
“Thanks.” She scurried past him, all but running down the narrow hall to the offices at the back. A glance toward the bar showed an empty hallway. With a deep breath to calm her jumping nerves, she knocked on the door.
“Come on in,” a male voice said.
Calm. She needed to be calm. Opening the door, she walked in wearing a smile. “Hi, Paul. I have the benefits package lined out for your employees.” She crossed and sat on a pleather guest chair to face her client across his massive marble desk.
Paul leaned forward. “Great.” In his early twenties, Paul had inherited a bundle from his grandfather and had quickly built his dream club. He’d been smart enough to hire the accounting firm to assist him. He pushed thick blond curls away from his face. “Sorry I was so much of a pain earlier. I just don’t like anyone knowing about my finances.”
Josie nodded. Especially his drug-dealing brother, who had been annoyed when Paul inherited all the money. She made a mental note to let Malloy know about the brother. Could be a lead for the break-in at the offices. “I know. And I assure you, we’re doing everything we can to discover what was taken and by whom.”
Paul nodded. “I know. So what papers did you bring for me?”