Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 185811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Jorge was not watching Lottie, his attention was on the crowd.
This was good.
Mo trailed Hawk as he walked down the back hall past the dancers’ dressing room to the end where there was a door to the back. Quieter there, but you could still hear the music.
Hawk stopped and turned.
Mo stopped and shifted slightly to the side so he wouldn’t have to waste the nanosecond it’d take if he had to make a full turn to get back to Lottie if she needed him.
“You saw her first set,” Hawk noted.
Mo nodded.
Hawk jerked up his chin.
Then he asked, “You gonna be able to do this?”
Hawk Delgado was not stupid.
And he knew his men.
“Fuck no.”
His boss didn’t look surprised, but he started to look impatient.
“Mo—”
“But I’ll do it,” he finished.
“It’s just a job. Her job. Three sets. A couple songs. Then she sits back in the dressing room because Smithie doesn’t want her mingling,” Hawk told him something Smithie already briefed him on.
Smithie didn’t want her mingling not because it made her seem elusive and exclusive.
He did it because he knew, like Mo knew, that a lot of men were assholes, those who weren’t were whackjobs, and the ones who were neither of those were at home with their wives.
In other words, Smithie didn’t want her in danger.
Where she was now.
Because she stripped.
“I’m on it,” Mo stated.
“It’s just her job, Mo. She’s good at it. She’s famous for it. But to her, it’s how she pays her mortgage,” Hawk told him.
He didn’t need another lecture about stripping that day (or ever again).
But he was surprised Hawk would press this with him.
Mo had four older sisters.
Hawk knew Mo had four older sisters and a mother, all of whom Mo looked after since he had his first coherent thought, so no way he’d ever be down with a woman taking her clothes off for money.
That didn’t matter.
It wasn’t about it being her job.
It was about it being his job to protect her.
And he could do that.
“I’m on it, Hawk,” he repeated.
Hawk gave him a look.
Mo just stared at him.
Hawk got his meaning and because he did, he shared, “Callin’ in a favor with a friend at the FBI. That religious fanaticism shit, Lottie might not be the first for this asshole. Sent him a copy of the letter, he’s gonna run it through their system to see if there’s any language quirks that match.”
Good.
Mo nodded.
“Postmark gives us nothing,” Hawk carried on. “Doing an analysis on printer, toner, paper, envelope, stamp. Stamp was self-adhesive, so no DNA, also no print, which does not bode well. Could be some on the flap. Took prints off the letter. Got one of our friends at DPD to run ’em.”
Lottie hadn’t touched the actual letter, just a copy.
The actual letter would have his, Hawk’s, Smithie’s and maybe the perp’s prints on it.
Mo hoped like hell if it did, the guy was in the system so this could all be over and quick for Lottie, but also for him.
“Jorge and I had a sit down with all the bouncers and bartenders on tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll hit any who were off tonight. And the dancers,” Hawk continued. “Askin’ if anyone’s seen someone that gives off a bad vibe, a regular that creeps them out, anyone who’s said something that’s off.”
“Know the drill, Hawk,” Mo reminded him. But he asked, “Anyone give you anything?”
“It’s a strip club. Every second asshole out there gives off a bad vibe, creeps someone out or says something that’s off.”
Great.
“We’ll get him and we’ll get him quick, Mo,” Hawk assured him.
Mo nodded again.
The music ended, the crowd went wild, and without an order from Hawk, or a word to him, Mo pivoted fully and strode swiftly down the hall.
He met Lottie coming off the stage, shrugging on a robe.
She barely glanced at him before she rushed across the hall to the dancers’ dressing room.
“Man coming in!” she called as she pushed through the door.
He hesitated a beat, two, but that was all he gave it for the girls to get situated before he followed her.
He was fighting a sea of strippers heading the other way as he walked in.
“Got it covered, Mo,” he heard Hawk call.
Mo glanced over his shoulder, lifted his chin at his boss, then looked away before the door closed him in on Lottie.
He’d been in there earlier as she got ready, sitting in front of one of those mirrors with the lights all around that you see in movies, makeup and hair shit scattered all over the shallow counter in front of it. She’d gotten dressed behind a screen, something that had surprised him, considering what she did for a living, but after watching her act the first time, he was grateful for it.
The other dancers had clearly been warned about his presence before they’d showed.