Page 16 of Shadow Angel
Intrigued, Beth listened intently. This side of gentlemen’s clubs were like secret men’s business and being a fly on the wall was golden.
“Plenty.” Smith swiped at the tip of his nose with the back of his hand. “I’ve been asking her out since she first danced for me and I don’t give up easy.” He shrugged. “The dancers make up the majority of available women in town, you know. They do date miners. I’m not sayin’ they sell themselves either.”
“What did she say?” Styles straightened, his expression alert.
“She always refused.” Smith’s shoulders slumped. “I didn’t want to pester her. She already mentioned she had enough of those types, and she liked me, so she wanted us to remain friends. I figured that was a start and offered to buy her lunch one day, you know, away from the club, like normal people.”
Beth moved away from the wall into his line of sight. “Did she ever mention being concerned about anyone in particular?”
“Yeah.” Smith blinked as if just realizing she was there. “She told me one guy constantly stared at her, like he hated what she was doing. It creeped her out some. I asked her to point him out to me, but she refused. She didn’t want to cause trouble or Hal would fire her.”
“Okay, Mr. Smith.” Styles handed him a card. “If you think of anything else, or hear anything about Cassie, call me. She’s missing and we mean to find her.”
“Missing?” Smith frowned. “Since Friday?”
“So it seems.” Styles cleared his throat. “Did she mention where she came from, a family, or friends she might visit?”
“Nope, but I’ll ask around.” Smith tucked the card into his pocket. “If I find out anything, I’ll call.” He headed for the door.
Beth stared after him. “Send in Jace Conan.” She looked at Styles. “What do you think?”
“He was here and has motive. He admitted he wanted her and she brushed him aside. That would be enough to set him off if he is a psychopath. They don’t take rejection too well, do they?” Styles nodded slowly. “He’s one for the list.”
A few minutes later, Jace Conan walked in, hat in hand and cheeks ruddy. He was dressed in denim jeans, jacket, and a white shirt. He looked like a kid and kept his attention on the ground refusing to meet Beth’s eyes. She exchanged a look with Styles and made a motion with her hand to start the questioning.
“Jace Conan?” Styles introduced them and cleared his throat when Conan lifted his face, displaying scratches down one side of his neck.
“Yeah, what’s the problem?” Conan moved his gaze over Beth and then dropped it back to his boots.
Beth blinked and then snapped her fingers. “Hey, look at me, not the floor.” This was one of the men who’d attacked her the previous evening. With her wig dragged off in the fight and her hair down, she’d had no option but to identify herself as an FBI agent. She wouldn’t be able to go undercover in Outlaws again. “You know why we’re here, right?”
“I’ve been cleared of any wrongdoing.” Conan stared at her, his eyes narrowed. “You came on to us, taking off your coat all sexy like and wearing jeans so tight they could have been sprayed on. Don’t go blaming me, lady. You advertise and men will come running.”
Not moving from her place against the wall, Beth shrugged. “That’s Agent Katz to you. I’m not a member of the English aristocracy.”
“I know you were here on Friday night.” Styles moved into the conversation so smoothly Beth blinked at him. “You paid for a private dance with Cassie Burnham.”
“Look, there’s nothing wrong about paying a girl for a dance.” Conan grinned. “I picked Cassie because it drives Steve crazy when she dances for me. Well, dance is what they call it, right? She slides onto my lap and sends me to heaven.”
“How did you get the scratches on your neck?” Styles took out his phone and took a picture before Conan could react.
“She did it.” Conan indicated with his chin toward Beth.
Shaking her head, Beth pushed off the wall. “Not me. I was wearing gloves. It was way too cold to be out without them and I don’t claw people who attack me. I usually break something.”
“Where were you around ten on Friday night?” Styles slipped his phone inside his pocket. “After Cassie finished for the night.”
“I was here, playing pool in the bar until around eleven and then I walked back to the motel with Steve.” He glanced at his watch. “You going to be much longer? I’m missing all my favorite dancers.”
“Was anyone at the desk when you returned to the motel?” Styles made a few notes and looked up at him. “I’ll need to verify when you returned.”
“I don’t know.” He pulled a key from the pocket of his jeans and dangled it in front of Styles face. “We don’t need to check in. We all have keys.”
“When did you last see Cassie?” Styles stared at him.
“Last time she was onstage. My dance was earlier, around eight.” Conan turned his hat around in his hands. “I didn’t see her leave. We were in the bar by then.”
“So, you know what time she leaves?” Styles smiled. “She must be a favorite.”
