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  "Yeah Chloe, I know, because you didn't think I had one. Tell Sandra to grab her favorite g-string and get on stage."

  "Thank you. She's a good kid."

  "Don't push it."

  Chloe waved as she headed to the locker room to deliver the good news.

  "Boss, you want me to call in Maddie? Without Sandra, we're short on the floor," Joey said as he came through the double doors lugging two cases of beer.

  At the sound of that name, a lot of my good humor evaporated.

  "Oh hell no. I'm still deciding if she's fired or not. I don't want to see her before Tuesday, if then. I'll split her station and cover the overflow."

  "If you're going to schlep trays, can I bring Keith out of the kitchen and behind the bar? I've been informally training him. We're going to need help for the party."

  "That'll work. I promise that I'll get back on hiring this week. How about we have lunch on Tuesday and go over the specs?"

  "Good deal. The distributor's projections are bullshit. We're going to need a lot more liquor. I used to work weddings on the weekends. When the bar is free, well, you know what happens."

  "Yeah. We're going to have a hundred drunks celebrating a cop's death. This whole thing creeps me out."

  "I get that and believe the sheriff's out of line. You weren't here when Sarah Jean was murdered. She was good people. We used to come here after our shift at the plant to watch her dance. Half the guys were in love with her. Don't look at me like that. You don't have to be straight to appreciate a good show and she was a good show if you know what I mean. She died bad. When it turned out to be her old man, everybody went a little crazy. The party might close some of that."

  "Billy Ray was one of Sheldon's deputies?"

  "No, he was a city cop. The sheriff took him down."

  "You can tell me all about it over lunch. Right now, we have fantasies to fulfill."

  CHAPTER 10

  As the evening picked up, I found myself looking toward the front door every few minutes and wondering if the club was coming in tonight. When they hadn't shown up by eight, I made a decision and sent one of the busboys to plop a RESERVED sign on the big table on the second tier. I didn't want them mixing with the locals who tended to cluster around the pool tables on the other wall. Although I didn't expect to see Duane, I didn't want to risk a repeat of last night. I'd also promised royal treatment in exchange for peaceful behavior, and this was a good start.

  I was rewarded an hour later. Ethan, the three bikers from the other night, and a younger guy I hadn't seen before strutted in like their name was on the sign. The doorman gave them serious stink eye, but he was under orders to direct them to the reserved table. I grabbed the bottle of Jack, the same one I'd served Max from, and a handful of shot glasses.

  "Keith, set up a tray of drafts and send them to the corner."

  I'd been doing this long enough to decipher the table hierarchy from the seating. The casual attitude that had almost resulted in a bar brawl the previous night was gone, replaced with a defensive arrangement. The dude with the long silver-streaked curls was in the farthest and darkest corner seat, still with the best view of the stage. Ethan sat on one side and a tall tough-looking biker on the other. Bodyguards. The two youngest, one in prospect colors, were consigned to the seats with their backs to the room. Cannon fodder. I was glad to see Ethan in a position of authority. It made him safer.

  "Glad to see y'all again." I poured a round of shots and held up my glass. "Here's to a good evening."

  "And a better night." Ethan grabbed my wrist and pulled me onto his knee. He put his arm around me and copped some side boob. Before I could speak, he nodded at me slightly and downed his whiskey. I took the hint and snuggled closer to him.

  "And here's to Price for figuring out a way to drink free." The leader threw back the shot and reached for the bottle.

  Ethan accepted the refill. "It's hard work to be sure."

  I ran my fingers along his shoulder. "It's worth it. For the moment." That brought a rude joke just as Keith arrived with the tray of brimming beer mugs. As I passed them out, I caught the prospect staring at me with unabashed lust. When I met his eyes, he looked away. It hit me. I'd been claimed. Not exactly an old lady, but I wasn't for the taking either. It wasn't missed by anyone, including the regular customers. As I scanned the room, heads turned away and conversations picked up. Joey's theatrical wink and thumbs up spoke volumes.

  What amused me was how much I enjoyed it. A cold beer and Ethan's arm around me while the group assessed the attributes of the dancers and riffed on the big spenders in the crowd felt right. Even the crude humor fit the situation. For a minute, I wished it was all true. But, I didn't miss when the leader engaged Ethan with a look and a head toss. It was time for me to leave.

  "The kitchen is about to close. Would anybody refuse dinner?"

  The leader, who I now knew as Duke, nodded and said, "Price, you picked good. The Colonel's going to regret missing out on that."

  Ethan shrugged and let me stand. "Hey, what can I say? Rules are rules."

  I didn't have time to think much about that exchange. After I put in an order for a platter of burgers and fries, I helped Joey push out drink orders. During a stage break, Chloe sent the dancers into the crowd looking for some one-on-one bump and grind for tips. Sandra headed straight for the biker table and put a tentative hand on Ethan's arm.

  I don't know what he said, but the group laughed, and she jumped back like she'd been burned. I almost felt bad as she tottered away on her sky-high stripper heels.

  Almost.

  CHAPTER 11

  "One of my trainers told me the worst part of being undercover was the lack of hot water. The older I get, the more I agree with him."

  I have to admit; the sight of Ethan wrapped in one of my towels was well worth the stress of wondering what was going on and what it had to do with my club.

  "Can I ask you a couple of questions?"

  He didn't answer. Instead, he pulled back the covers and got into bed next to me. Simon nosed around, pawed at the blankets, and settled himself between us. The warm domesticity tempted me to change the subject. I shook it off and asked, "Do you mind explaining what happened tonight?"

  I didn't have to elaborate. His smile told me he knew what I was talking about.

  "Sorry. I'd hoped to catch you at the bar. When you met us at the table, I had to improvise. I did it to protect you."

  "What? Was there a missile aimed at my cleavage?"

  "That's more accurate than you know. The Colonel called us this morning. He's almost done in Chicago and should be here early next week. Later, I was helping Duke with his bike when he said that the president was going to like the bar because it had the juiciest pussy he'd seen in a while."

  "And you wanted to mark yours. I'm flattered." It came out sharper than I'd intended. I didn't apologize.

  Ethan scooped Simon onto his lap and moved closer to me. The pressure of his finger under my chin made it clear he wanted me to look at him.

  "I told you I wouldn't pull any punches this time. The Colonel is a dangerous man. He has an ego as big as next week and the force to back it up. I don't care what's on the stage. When you walk into this bar, there's no doubt about the head bitch in charge. You're the prize and, yeah, I took you as mine in full view of everyone. I did it because there's an ironclad rule in the club. Nobody fucks with a brother's woman. It's a line not even the president can cross without getting a beat down. He won't like it, but he'll leave you alone."

  I didn't have an answer. I couldn't argue or even get mad because I understood the logic. I wasn't in court anymore and the rules of procedure in the real world weren't always civil. I had two choices. I could be a harpy, or I could take the option that kept Ethan in my life as much as possible.

  "Does this mean I get a property patch?"

  "Maybe after you learn some manners."

  He parried my lunge by whacking me with one of the big pillows. The scuffle e
nded up with one arm trapped under my body, and the other pinned above my head. Simon, displaced from his perch, took the opportunity to show his loyalties. He licked my face before retreating to the foot of the bed.

  I ground against him. "If this was bad porn, the music would start right about now."

  "Don't tempt me."

  "I will if I want to."

  To my surprise, he let me go. "I have something I need to ask you first."

  The seriousness in his voice got my attention. "What is it?"

  "What did Max Gano want?"

  Simon's snuffling was all that broke the silence. I'd planned on leaving this discussion until breakfast.

  "Max has one conceit. I doubt there's another Mustang exactly like his in the entire south."

  This joint leaks like a sieve.

  "He showed up at lunch and yanked me around for security before asking me to set up a meet with you."

  Ethan looked straight into my eyes. "Is he here to get me out or take me down?"

  Even though I said nothing, my expression must have given him the answer he needed.

  "He doesn't think I'm off the grid?"

  Despite my promise to Max, my loyalty was right here.

  "No, he doesn't. He's worried enough that he wanted to talk to you before making his report. Even though he's ready to go to bat for you, he has to cover his ass."

  "I trust him to do the right thing. When and where?"

  I went over the plans. Ethan nodded. "That'll work. One advantage of our hookup is that until the Colonel gets here, I have an excuse to spend nights away from the farm. I want you to come in your car. You know the neighborhood and can spot anything suspicious. It gives us a second method of egress if something goes to shit."

  "Are you sure? You don't suspect Max do you?"

  "No. But I don't trust his bosses. Sorry to sound like a cheesy spy novel. It'd be easier for certain people if my photo moved from the active roster to the Hall of Honor. I know it's paranoid, but as the old saying goes, no one ever died of an over-abundance of caution."

  I didn't know what else to say. I put my head on his shoulder and hugged him as hard as I could. His lips brushed my forehead, soft as a feather.

  "It's cool. With you watching my back, I've got nothing to worry about. However, as your old man, I have to correct you on one thing."

  "What's that?"

  He turned off the light.

  "There's no such thing as bad porn."

  CHAPTER 12

  I gave up on reading resumes in the late afternoon. After marking a couple for interviews, I found I couldn't concentrate. Before Ethan left, I'd made the confirmation call to Max while he studied aerial photos of the meeting place. The irony wasn't lost on either of us. The last time we'd done this, things went very badly. Even though I intrinsically trusted Max, the whole thing had me on edge.

  And the party. Always the party.

  When I'd started, I'd relished the task. It was perfect for an organization freak like me. I'd attacked it like a stack of evidence before a jury trial. The more I learned about the Simpson case, the less I liked it. After throwing in on several exoneration appeals, what I'd learned had turned me off of capital punishment. I ran a better defense for a dime bag bust than a lot of these defendants received from their court-appointed lawyers.

  All my experience made throwing a drunken bash to celebrate the execution of a former police officer distasteful at best and disgusting at worst. One more shuffle of my spreadsheets and I decided to give the logistics over to Joey. He was more than qualified, and I'd give him a nice bonus for the extra hours.

  "Simon, it's time for walkies."

  I didn't have to ask twice. What my dog didn't know is that we were going for a drive. When I'd first come to Biloxi, I'd gone to the beach almost every afternoon. This was in sharp contrast to the last few weeks where I'd seldom left the club. I needed air and some recon.

  The agreed parking spot was about two blocks from the meet site. Even with the tight streets, I could run a decent surveillance detection routine. The sleepy neighborhood would help me spot anyone following me. On the flip side, there were enough vacation rentals that a strange car parked on the street shouldn't raise any alarms.

  Using a tiny ball for a running game of fetch, I meandered along the edge of the water and checked out the piers. The red-gated one, the lock scratched from years of screwdrivers, was still there. Tourist season was winding down, and the beach was almost free of foot traffic. The informal fire pits had an abandoned vibe.

  The situation was about as good as it was going to get.

  Back at the club, I showered to clean off the fine sand and sprayed Simon down in the big kitchen sink, something that would, no doubt, horrify the health department.

  After my long hike, I decided a nap was in order. As I passed my desk, the blinking message light on the phone caught my attention. Concerned that it might be Max or Ethan, I pushed the button for Caller ID. The number was vaguely familiar, so I glanced down the list of employee phone contacts.

  Maddie Hyatt.

  Oh hell no. I'll deal with her on Tuesday.

  With the curtains tightly drawn and my alarm set for mid-evening, I had no trouble drifting off. It'd been a long weekend.

  CHAPTER 13

  Beaches are different after dark. In spite of the lights of the Biloxi Bay Bridge for perspective, the blackness of the Gulf was overpowering on this moonless night. My doubt increased with every step on the squeaking sand. Even seeing Max's Mustang and Ethan's bike parked exactly where I'd expected didn't clear my unease. Things that seem like a good idea in the daylight change when the sun goes down.

  A single streetlight illuminated the steps to the pier. The rest of the lights, including the one over the gate, were out. I suspected the guys had a hand in this. There's no such thing as too much privacy.

  My eyes started to adjust as I made my way down the wood-planked pier. My footsteps were distinctive in the quiet night.

  "Hey Baby, come here often?"

  "Ethan, you scared the hell out of me."

  "Sorry, I couldn't resist. I came out to meet you because a couple is less conspicuous to anyone who might be watching."

  "Did you hear me? I tried to stay quiet."

  "The water covered the sound. We've been watching since you crossed the bridge."

  "Watching?"

  He pointed up. "Max has a pair of drones deployed—infrared and night vision. With almost no traffic, you were easy to track."

  I couldn't decide if this was comforting or annoying. In less than a week, my life went from ultra-private to the world having a ringside seat. My mood must have conveyed. Ethan hugged me around the shoulders and said, "It's a whole new world. I like knowing what's around me. It makes it harder for the bad guys."

  "How do you know the difference?"

  "That's a more difficult question. Come on."

  "Do I smell pizza?"

  "Max is a gracious host."

  Being around Ethan is never good for my diet. I was on my second plate while Max amused us by using the zoom functions on the cameras to follow a man walking his dog, a couple making out on a front porch, and less funny, the license plate on my car. I'd expected the smooth yuppie I'd met before. Instead, he was in cargo shorts and a rumpled shirt. He needed a shave and had a bandana tied around his short hair.

  Noting where my eyes went, he said, "I'm nothing more than a beach bum nerd, drinking beer and playing with my toys. There's nothing to see here."

  "Camouflage."

  "Hide in plain sight."

  Ethan put three beers on the table and sat next to me.

  "Okay, Max. You wanted this meeting and my lawyer's here. What's up?"

  Max punched a few buttons. The second set of drones whirred into the night and settled into a slow circular pattern around the pier. He worked the joysticks and the first pair landed at the end of a shiny concrete table like a pair of trained dragonflies.

  "Fresh batterie
s and autopilot. We'll know if we have any company. Now we can get down to business."

  A package flew across the table so fast that I flinched. Ethan caught it like a hard grounder.

  "Piss in a damn cup?"

  "Yes, and I want hair samples as well."

  "What's this about? Do you think I'm dirty?"

  "No I don't and neither does your lady friend. I want proof to back it up."

  "Nice to know you two have faith in me. Should I unzip right here or can I step away from the food?" His peevish hurt sliced through me. I'd lied by omission, the same thing I'd accused him of so many times.

  Nobody said anything until Max stowed the samples in a fake soda can in the cooler. The dip test was negative. The hair test would confirm what we all knew. Ethan was clean.

  "Sorry brother, you know you'd do the same to me if it was reversed."

  "I know. It doesn't make it any easier. You know how much I like being talked about. But, I've used up a lot of trust in the last year." He met my eyes and in the glow of the screen, emotions flickered across his face. Hurt, suspicion, and then a nod that told me he got it.

  Max continued like he didn't notice our exchange. "Then your ears should be on fire."

  "Doesn't management have anything better to do?"

  "Well—" Max cut himself off.

  I finished his sentence. "A high-ranking Texas Ranger ended up with his brains on the wall and a global smuggling operation in illegal minerals that helped finance terrorism was running right under Justice's nose. This all needs to be somebody else's fault. Am I close?"

  I got a raised beer bottle in salute.

  Max pushed the cooler under the table. "The drug tests will keep them at bay for a while. What's up with this operation? Anything happening or is it time to drop the checkered flag and get you out of there?"

  "A month ago, I would have said yes. Then things changed. It all centers on the bar. Is there anything going on around there? Dealers? Cookers?"

  I took a long drink to give myself a second to think.

  "Not that I've seen. I mean, it isn't lily white. I've found needles in the parking lot and the occasional crack vial. I know Oxy is a big problem out at the plant, and I'm sure pills change hands, but it's nothing you couldn't find at any club. I pee test new employees for insurance. Hell, my upstairs might as well be a sheriff's office outpost."