Page 58 of Devil's Marker

Robin began to dance with a guy in a cowboy hat, who looked ridiculous trying to move to pop music. Robin seemed to be into the guy and not know that he was a tool.

When Win’s eyes went back to R.C., Dredge had moved up behind her with a wolfish smile. It took Win a double take and a few seconds to identify Dredge because, like Win and Catcher, he’d changed his look to fit in with the young urban cubicle-lites who frequented Night Flight on a quest to feel alive and relevant.

He’d trimmed his beard close to his face, coiffed his hair to appear stylish. He was wearing white jeans, biker boots, and a linen jacket over a tee with the tail out. Like a lot of guys who pursued alternate life choices, he was smart enough to keep his ink confined to areas where it could be hidden when it might be useful to do so.

Win was perturbed that the S&B prez had also chosen a linen jacket, but that concern quickly dissipated when Dredge lightly put his fingertips on R.C.’s hips and said something with a grin. When she turned to see who was touching her and speaking so intimately, directly into her ear, so close she would have to feel his breath on her skin, Win forgot everything else.

His name. His location. Most importantly, his purpose for being there.

With locked jaw, he started forward toward the dance floor, but ran directly into a rock-hard obstacle roughly the same size and shape as himself. He was looking directly into Catcher’s eyes and Catcher’s eyes were conveying a simple, but firm, “No.”

Catcher was at the stage of young manhood where his body was defined more by frame than muscle. He had broad shoulders, a slim waist, and was a couple of inches taller than Win. The suggestion of youthful lankiness was deceptive. Win could feel that the kid was strong and that resistance would result in a spectacle that would draw every eye. Security, too.

Win relaxed a hair, to let Catcher know that he understood, but he looked past Catcher to keep an eye on R.C.

Robin had left the dance floor with the cowboy and was not in sight.

“Are you callin’ backup?” Win said to Catcher.

“Not yet. We need to count how many are here. You take this side. I’ll take the other. Keep her in sight, but don’t step in unless you see them headin’ toward the exit. Look everybody over good. We can’t afford to miss anything.”

Win nodded, his teeth still clamped painfully tight.

“Do a circle. Meet me back here.” He grabbed the lapel of Win’s coat. “Do not be dumb.”

Catcher had Win wondering which of them was more mature, more seasoned.

“Yeah,” Win said, eyes on R.C. She wasn’t letting the S&B prez grind against her perfect ass, but she hadn’t run him off either.

Catcher let go and moved off to the right, going slow, scanning every male face. Win took in a breath and went left. Twenty minutes later, Win and Catcher were back at their starting point.

Catcher held up three fingers. Win nodded.

“Stay here a minute,” Catcher said. “I’ll be back.”

“Where you goin’?” Win demanded.

“Gotta check somethin’ out.”

Win started to protest, but Catcher had disappeared into the crowd. “Goddamnit.”

He didn’t have long to wait. It felt like hours to Win, but Catcher was back in less than ten minutes.

“There’s a back exit. Opens to an alley. Got a working camera on it. Also operable cameras in front on the door and valet station.”

“Why do we need to know that?”

“Vehicle ID. Also got a record of who’s comin’ and goin’. With who and when.”

Win nodded. “Go call backup. Tell them who’s here, what they look like, what they’re wearin’. Have Roar sit across the street, eyes on the front door. Tell him to send the other two to the alley.”

“Okay. Goin’ outside for a smoke. Can you keep eyes on three for five minutes?”

“Call Boss. Let him know what’s going on. In case he wants to send more people. If all three guys try to leave with girls in different vehicles…” He let the thought trail off because the rest of the sentence needed no air time.

“Yeah,” Catcher agreed, looking even more worried. It made Win wonder if Catcher had the same moral high ground on the issue of sex trafficking as Boss.

“Go.”

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