In the Cards, page 6
Damn. She let her hand fall from the phone and began to pace the room using Alex as her sounding-board once again.
“You know, Alex, this could be coincidental. Not likely, but it could be. Sadly, women go missing all the time, especially those that work at establishments like Montrose’s. Exotic dancing, drinking, possibly some illegal backroom gambling or drugs.” She ticked the points off on her fingers then frowned. “It’s all speculation though. What I need is proof. A reason behind the disappearances, some hint of wrong-doing on Montrose’s part.”
Of course, Alex didn’t reply but she still felt better for having voiced her concerns to him. Besides, lots of people believed that the dead were still around in spirit. Emma clung to that belief right now, even though she’d never been a big proponent of it before. Alex had been too good, too kind, for his spirit to just disappear like that. No, she was sure he still existed on some plane. Now, if only he could tell her what exactly she’d discovered.
Uncashed cheques.
Women missing.
All worked at Montrose’s clubs.
But why had they gone missing?
Emma sat down to scour over the files she’d copied once again. Was there a pattern? A certain day of the week or…? She trailed her finger down the column of numbers, flipped a page then paused and flipped back. This could be it! She arranged the pages so she could view them all at once and then double checked against the dates the women had been reported missing.
There it was! A substantial deposit from Seraphim Employment was made within a week of each woman going missing. And, interestingly enough, those were the only times that Seraphim Employment appeared in the books. The question now was what kind of a company was Seraphim Employment? A quick search of the internet told her that it was, on the surface, a legitimate employment agency, but perhaps there was another layer below the surface. After all, why would an employment agency pay Montrose? Surely it should be the other way around if the clubs were hiring from Seraphim?
Was Seraphim a front for something else? And if so, what? A nasty suspicion came to mind and she began to nibble on her fingernail, only to realize what she was doing and grimace. She thought she’d broken that habit!
“You know, Alex, this makes me think of that movie we watched a few weeks ago, the one about human trafficking. People disappearing without a trace, large sums of money involved.” She shivered recalling the fate of some of the abductees. “Is that what’s going on here? It could be. It would make sense but…I still have no real proof.”
She sighed heavily. Who was she trying to fool? She wasn’t some super-sleuth.
“Alex, if you were still here with me, I bet we could figure this out, they say two heads are better than one. Right now my head is drawing a blank.” Emma plopped down on her desk chair and stared at her computer screen in the vain hope that it would tell her what to do.
Of course, it didn’t. Idly, she navigated onto the website of her local newspaper. She read the headlines, scanned articles without really consciously registering what she was reading. As she was scrolling through the site a flashing ad on the side of the screen caught her attention. The Dusky Rose club was looking for wait staff.
Hey! She sat up straighter. All of Montrose’s clubs had the word ‘Rose’ in their names. She reached over to the papers she’d purloined from Ian Newcombe’s files and flicked through them until she came to the one with a list of Montrose’s businesses. Sure enough the Dusky Rose was one of his clubs. And the ad said to apply to Seraphim Employment. That was the name of the random company that had appeared on the ledgers.
A smile began to curl her lips as an idea formed in her mind. She’d had a part-time job waiting on tables while at college so she had experience. And, if she was working right inside one of Montrose’s businesses, she might be able to find some hard evidence to support her claim.
Did she dare apply for a job?
A voice inside her seemed to be yelling ‘no’ and pointing out all the possible pitfalls of going into enemy territory but she ignored it. She could ask for a week’s leave of absence from work; Stapleton would likely be pleased if she wasn’t around…
Yeah, why not?
~~~
What the hell was going on?
Against his better judgement, Alex had used Zeke to watch Emma while he’d been checking out Montrose. The young guardian had listed a non-eventful couple of days. The only notable event had been meeting someone at a café – a woman in a business suit – before going to the office yesterday. Then today, she’d gone shopping for clothes. It all seemed innocuous enough but there had to have been more to it than Zeke had reported.
For one thing, her purchases were completely out of character. He stared at the bed strewn with shopping bags and price tags. Whatever had possessed her to visit a sexy clothing store? Alex raked his fingers through his hair and stared in disbelief at Emma’s garb as it disappeared beneath the coat she was donning.
Miniscule boy shorts and a sheer white blouse, if that tiny slip of material could be given such a grandiose name. And the top was tied together under her breasts, holding them like a bra. Which was good because it was obvious she wasn’t wearing that part of her underwear. In fact, Alex moved to view her from behind, he was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing any panties either; shorts that tight should have shown a panty line.
Perhaps he ought to have checked up on her before now, but he’d been busy watching Peter Montrose. Since it was obvious Emma wasn’t going to abandon the hunch she had, learning as much as he could about the enemy had seemed a good idea. Unfortunately, after spending some time following the man to work and then back home again, he hadn’t managed to garner much new information. That Montrose was both rich and powerful were established facts and the large entourage of staff had made sense given the size of his estate and business holdings. The man’s lunch, a weird combination of anchovy pizza and French champagne, had been curious but hardly useful. His wardrobe was filled with silk suits and designer labels while his movie collection ranged from action to porno to classics. It had been interesting to note, however, that he appeared to be a control freak, demanding every decision pass by him first. And, from the way he talked to his employees, he possessed a mean-streak; more than one person had visibly quivered when Montrose had expressed his displeasure over some minor event.
Alex shelved his musings when he saw Emma grab her handbag. He followed her out of the building and settled into the passenger seat of her car, studying her quizzically as she pulled out of the parking lot and drove downtown. His unease grew when she bypassed the brightly lit entertainment area and manoeuvred her vehicle into the part of town once known as the red light district. The prostitutes had long since been moved off the streets but the bars and clubs were barely disguised brothels. Nearly all of them had upstairs rooms which could be rented by the hour and high-stake poker games were rumoured to take place in private backrooms.
Emma pulled over to the side of the road and parked. She sat behind the wheel taking big gulps of air. Waves of nervousness and fear flowed from her body making Alex want to gather her into his arms. Mindful of Michael’s warnings he didn’t touch her. He was, however, going to stick extremely close to her.
She climbed out of the car, crossed the road and entered an alley, holding her bag as if it were a shield in front of her body. He pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt as he began to tail her then scoffed at himself over the pointless act. She couldn’t see him. Giving his head a shake, he continued on.
The alley was typical in its graffiti-based decor, the damp walls dimly glistening in the faint lighting. There was a stench to the air; garbage, cooking grease, booze and urine; the dark corners had obviously served a double purpose as a latrine. Emma wrinkled her nose as she carefully stepped along, trying to avoid the dirty, slushy puddles that covered the ground. A pathetically malnourished cat yowled and darted out in front of her causing her to gasp. She jumped aside and bumped into a trash bin. The few bits of snow that had bravely remained atop the metal surface fell to the ground.
“Prophetic,” Alex murmured to himself as he watched the white purity of the snow quickly swallowed by the filth below.
Emma, recovering from her fright, straightened and hurried on her way, finally stopping in front of a door with a single naked bulb hanging over the frame. Faded lettering on the panel proclaimed it was the employees’ entrance for the Dusky Rose.
The club’s name rang a bell; he remembered it from the list of companies and clubs owned by Peter Montrose.
It would seem his darling was doing some undercover investigative work. He shook his head. If anyone needed a guardian angel, it was Emma Campbell!
Chapter 8
“You the new girl?” The six-foot-six wall of ugly muscle addressed Emma as she stood in a narrow hallway just inside the rear of the Dusky Rose.
“Umm…yeah. I start this evening.” She glanced around. “Ms. Martinez, the woman who offered me the job, said someone would show me the ropes. A girl named Marcie?”
‘Wall’ gestured for her to follow and led her to a small room lined with lockers. Two benches were arranged in the middle of the space. An old sink was mounted on a wall that needed repainting and topped with a cracked mirror. Emma inwardly frowned. For an organization as successful as Montrose, she’d have thought the establishments would be better maintained. Of course, the Dusky Rose wasn’t exactly up-scale compared to some of the other holdings.
“Wait here,” the man pointed at one of the benches. “I’ll find Marcie and send her back.”
Her legs felt like they’d turned to water and she collapsed onto the wooden surface, taking slow measured breaths to calm her rapid heartbeat. For the hundredth time she wished Alex was there, helping her solve this mystery she’d stumbled upon. She closed her eyes and pictured him as he’d looked when they were walking around the miniature Christmas village on that last night. Try as she might she couldn’t keep his image steady. It kept changing and for some strange reason he was wearing a hoodie. That was odd. She’d never seen him wearing such a thing; why would she picture him like that now?
The clicking of high heels made Emma snap open her eyes. She turned to see a red-haired woman standing in the doorway.
“You Emily?” The unfamiliar name gave Emma a start until she recalled it was the pseudonym she’d chosen. She replied with a nod.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“My name’s Marcie.” She pointed to a locker. “This one is yours. Put your coat and bag in it and make sure you leave your cell phone there as well. No personal calls allowed during work time.” The woman tapped her foot impatiently as Emma hung up her things. “Okay, let’s have a look at you.”
Marcie made a gesture with her hand indicating she wanted Emma to turn around. “A bit on the slim side; most of the customers like something to grab hold of. Oh well, we’re short-handed so I guess you’ll have to do.”
Emma felt like she was a cut of beef that had been found wanting but kept her expression neutral. She could do this!
With a sniff, Marcie jerked her head towards the door. “Follow me and I’ll show you the ropes.”
Emma followed her through what seemed like a rabbit warren of corridors, passing offices, rooms marked ‘Private’, a large kitchen. Finally they stopped and Marcie drew open a heavy metal fire door and, for a moment, Emma thought she’d gone blind.
Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the poor illumination and she realized it wasn’t actually dark. The light was slowly changing from blue to purple to red and back to blue only to cycle through the sequence again. She took a couple of running steps to catch up to Marcie who was talking to her.
“Do you have much experience?”
“I worked in a bar at college, not much since then.”
“Well, like I said, we’re short-staffed at the moment so you’d better be able to handle it. No one’s available to bail you out. Three girls didn’t turn up for work this week.” Marcie moved behind the bar and pulled a round tray off a shelf. This she handed to Emma together with a small order pad and pencil. “To start you’ll be serving drinks and food. You’ll only get permission to offer other services once you’ve passed probation. That’s two weeks from today.”
“Other services?” She tried to keep her expression neutral but apparently wasn’t completely successful.
Marcie gave her a hard look. “Waitressing doesn’t pay that much. A lot of the girls need to supplement their income, right?”
Emma nodded while inwardly cringing.
“All activity must take place on the premises and the house gets eighty percent.” Marcie leaned against the bar, arms folded. “It’s optional but the boss likes the girls who earn him a little extra on the side.”
Emma didn’t quite know what to say to this revelation. Thankfully, Marcie kept on talking.
“You work three hours on fifteen minutes off. You can only use the restroom during those fifteen minutes.” She took a page of white labels out of a cabinet, wrote ‘Emily’ on one and stuck it on a large brandy snifter. “This is for your tips. Again, the house keeps eighty percent.”
Feeling sorry for women who had to work at jobs like this to keep body and soul together, Emma nodded again. “Do women often disappear? Er…I mean not show up without giving any notice?”
Marcie cracked the gum she was chewing. “Yeah, it happens from time to time, although not usually three together. It’s mostly the young ones who don’t come back.” She looked Emma up and down, then nodded. “Okay, you’re set to go. After your first break I’ll show you around upstairs. You’ve got tables one through twelve.” She pointed at a table plan next to the cash register. “Rob’s on bar tonight – don’t bother trying it on with him, though. I’ve hit on him ever since he started three weeks ago. Nothing. I think he’s gay or something.”
~~~
Over the centuries, Alex had been in many places of sexual entertainment and the Dusky Rose didn’t even score a lowly one star on his mental scale of depravity. He wandered around the room occasionally watching the drag queen comic or the strippers but more often keeping close tabs on Emma.
He was discovering she had hidden talents. After he’d overcome his initial abhorrence of her outfit he began to appreciate how she looked in the minimal clothing. Not as voluptuous as some of the other girls, but there was still something about her that drew every man’s eyes. She was like a lily in a garbage dump, unexpected, beautiful, exotic; one couldn’t help but want to pick it up and test its scent.
Surprisingly, when the patrons reached for her, Emma managed to deftly avoid their groping fingers without ever appearing to do so. It was like a dance how she turned at the right moment to pick up a glass or take an order, leaving a questing hand hovering empty in midair. Alex slowly curved his lips and nodded in approval. Yes, his Emma was full of surprises. He knew she was no shy virgin but he had no idea she had the experience to handle this kind of situation.
After observing Emma for a while longer, he realized she was in no immediate danger and began to investigate the rest of the club. The lower level was unremarkable. A few private rooms with poker games being played; illegal from the looks of it but not unexpected. The kitchen was noisy, hot and smelled of fried foods. And the employee locker room was decidedly dismal from the broken tile on the floor to the cracked plaster and rickety overhead light fixtures. It was also in desperate need of a coat of paint; the pea green shade on the walls made him feel queasy. There was nothing of interest in the room, so he happily moved his reconnaissance upstairs.
At the top of the staircase he paused, noting the red carpeting, gilded mirrors and dark wooden wainscoting. If the decorator had been trying to capture the look of a brothel, they’d succeeded. Alex continued down the hallway. There were rooms along one side, the doors ajar enough to reveal they were bedrooms, as yet unoccupied. No doubt that wouldn’t remain the case as the evening progressed. A stout door at the far end seemed promising and he moved closer, thankful that, as an angel, he was able to float above the carpeting; it looked decidedly dirty.
The door at the end of the hall sported a gold plaque labelled private and was secured with a deadbolt. Giving a smirk, Alex drifted through the wooden surface.
He found himself in an office occupied by two men. The one behind the desk wore a black silk shirt and dress pants, the other occupant looked like the hired muscle.
Muscle sat cleaning his nails with the point of a switchblade and Silk Shirt was reading the paper. Occasionally, one or the other would glance out a window that looked down on the bar below. Alex poked about the room, listened to the two men argue over sports and finally watched in disgust as Muscle went to check on the rooms used by the girls and their johns. The place was sordid but that was about it. Once again, he hadn’t uncovered anything that would be helpful to Emma.
~~~
Emma kept a smile pasted on her face as she weaved her way between the tables, a heavy tray of empty glasses in her hand. Her feet hurt and she had a headache from the lights and loud music. Now she remembered why she’d quit her college waitressing job after just a few months.
As she set the heavy tray down on the bar, she checked her watch. Break time. Thank goodness.
Sinking down on a nearby stool, she kicked off one shoe to rub her foot.
“Killer heels.” Another waitress paused beside her and gave the footwear an approving nod as she leaned against the bar waiting for her drink orders to be filled.
“In more ways than one,” Emma moaned. She flicked a look at the other girl. Too much make-up but there was still a hint of youthfulness underneath it all. They were probably only a few years apart.
