Page 91 of Our Daughter's Bones
Dear diary
Tomorrow I want to wake up in a world where people’s stupidity doesn’t hold me back, where people see my potential. I can be so much more. I AM so much more. Why doesn’t anyone see it?
The words from Abby’s journal resonated in Mackenzie’s head as she looked around at her sleazy surroundings. There was no concept of time at Remington’s. The vast club was always lit like the Northern Lights—dazzling streaks of acid green and hot pink. Like peering into a kaleidoscope.
A long stage was set on one side, where women slithered their naked bodies across the platform that Mackenzie was convinced wasn’t cleaned often enough. Their bodies played hide and seek with the audience through the swirling dry-ice vapor.
It was a Saturday afternoon, but there was one group of men—all bankers from their expensive suits and watches and polished shoes—who showered the stage with dollars and whistles. Sterling wasn’t one of them. But was Sterling the type to go to a strip club? Months ago, Sterling wasn’t the type to cheat either.
“Here’s the manager,” Nick nodded behind her.
A man with a giant beer belly and double chin walked up to them.
“Need anything?” He flashed his yellow-stained teeth. When they flashed their badges, he scowled. “We don’t do prostitution here.”
“Don’t care. Yet.” Nick showed him a picture of the cocktail napkin. “Ever seen this before?”
“Nope.”
“Does that number mean anything to you?” Mackenzie pressed. “Think hard.”
He crossed his arms. “I said nope.”
“What time does Hannah Correia come to work?”
His eyes shifted between them. Licking his lips nervously, he said, “W-why? What’d she do?”
Mackenzie narrowed her eyes. “Just asking. We’re looking into her daughter’s disappearance.”
“O-oh! Right! That. Man, that sucks. She’ll be here in like two hours. She takes the night shift.”
“What’s upstairs?” Nick pointed at the spiral staircase made of black marble.
“Changing rooms for the girls.”
“Do you have cameras? Any record of who comes here?”
“Nope.”
Mackenzie watched Nick’s jaw clench and his nostrils balloon. The manager was being cagey on purpose. There was only so much information they could extract when someone was unwilling to talk. But if he wasn’t, then maybe one of his “girls” would be. She noticed how the waitresses and dancers shot him steely glances. And a young woman working the bar kept glancing over curiously.
“Cool. We’ll stay for a drink.” Mackenzie pulled Nick by the elbow and dragged him to the bar.
“Tips not included!” he called after them.
“What are you doing?”
Mackenzie looked pointedly at the young bartender. She had a small face and shifty eyes. Unlike the older and hardened girls around her, she stood out with her softness and defiance. Like she was trying to look for the good in this corrupt place. Like she was trying hard not to lose her innocence.
“Two virgin mojitos, please,” Mackenzie said.
“Virgin?”
She flashed her badge. “We’re on duty.”
“R-right.” The girl gulped and knocked over some glasses as she made the drinks.
“How long have you been working here?”
