I winked. “Don’t worry. He’ll be plenty surprised.” I was sure Skeeter had a thing or two in store for Rich Lowry.
McDonald dropped his hold. “Then you best get going.”
I dropped the mug off with the pile of empty glasses behind the bar.
“Five minutes, Ruby,” Kip called after me as I hurried toward the backstage area.
Once I was behind the door, I stood in the hall and tried to figure out what to do next. Even if I found the room where Mason was, how would I get him out? Shoot, for all I knew, Mason wasn’t the unnecessary baggage McDonald was talking about. But I couldn’t take the chance. At the very least, I had to make sure he was safe.
The music from the bar filled the hallway, and I wondered how I was going to find him. I suspected he was in a room back here, but the music was so loud it was going to be difficult to eavesdrop.
I ignored the restrooms, and the dressing room seemed too unlikely to waste time on. Mud’s office was at the end of the hall, but another short hallway intersected it. When I pressed my ear to the closed office door, I didn’t hear voices. That left two doors—one to the left, which I presumed led outside, and another to the right. When I put my ear to that door, I heard the murmur of voices. I covered my left ear to drown out the music from the other room, closing my eyes to help my brain concentrate.
Mud’s voice rose. “He knows too much.”
“You’re an employee here. Don’t forget your place,” a low male voice said, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I’d heard that voice before. I just couldn’t place it.
“You can all blame each other later. Right now we have to figure out what to do with him,” Lowry said.
“What the hell happened to our arrangement?” Mason asked. “I’ve lived up to my end of the bargain. I dropped the damned charges. Now you live up to yours. Where’s the cash?”
My heart sank. Mason really had accepted a bribe. I’d hoped that this was all a misunderstanding, but he’d just admitted to it.
“That was before,” the mystery man said. “Before I knew you were setting us up.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Mason asked, sounding indignant.
“Nikko.” The room was silent before the man spoke again. “We know he was feeding you information.”
“You’re wrong.”
“He told us, Deveraux!” I heard a loud bang, and I jumped. “It took us a few days to break him, but he sang like a canary.”
I took a breath to calm down. Mason was in serious trouble. My heart hammered in my chest as I tugged my phone out of my pocket, my fingers shaky. I pulled up Joe’s number and had just pressed send when someone grabbed my lower arm, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh.
I screeched in fright and lost my grip on the phone. Joe called out “Rose?” as it fell, but when it hit the tile floor, the screen shattered and went dark.
I looked up into the angry face of one of the bouncers. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I got lost,” I blurted out. “I’m looking for the dressing room.”
“Who were you calling?”
“No one. I was pullin’ up MapQuest.”
“To find the dressing room?” He squatted and picked up my phone, still holding my arm in a death grip.
I considered bolting, but his bulky frame blocked my escape. “I need to get back to the bar. Kip’s gonna wonder where I am.”
“You’re not goin’ anywhere.” He tugged my arm with one hand while reaching for the doorknob with the other. “If you’re so interested in what’s goin’ on in that room, how about we let you have a front-row seat.”
“No, that’s okay,” I stammered, trying to pull free. “I don’t want to bother them.”
“No. I insist.” He grinned and threw the door open, dragging me inside. “Look what I found snoopin’ around outside the door.”
Four people looked up from a small table, their eyes widening in surprise, but Mason easily looked the most startled. I knew and expected to see three of the men—Rich Lowry, Mud, and Mason—but the fourth face shocked me.
The missing veterinarian who’d master-minded the robberies to outbid Skeeter.
Mick Gentry.
Chapter Thirty
“Well, well, well,” Mick said, leaning his elbows on the table. “What have we here?”
The bouncer released his grasp and gave me a tiny shove. I stumbled further into the small room, then froze, unsure of what to do. They were sitting at a rectangular table, taking up four of the eight chairs. Mick sat at the head of the table with Mud and Lowry on one side, Mason on the other.
“Who is she?” Mick asked.
Mud’s face paled. “She’s a new hire. She’s taking Sapphire’s place.”
“Guess she takes filling in seriously, including hanging out in places where she doesn’t belong.”
Mason’s hand, which was resting on the table, tightened into a fist, but I ignored him and kept my gaze on Mick.
Mick sat back in his chair. “What’s your name, doll?”
I lifted my chin. “Daisy.”
“Daisy what?”
“Daisy Miller.”