Page 3 of Shadow Angel
“Mine went just fine.” Beth leaned one hip against her desk and smiled at him. “I closed the deal on my cabin. Well, it’s more like a small house… and I got a really good price. It has a family room, kitchen, bathroom, and three bedrooms, not to mention solar power.”
Surprised to find her in such a good mood, Styles grinned. “You haven’t bought a place beside a bear’s cave, have you?”
“Nope. The area around it is well cleared. It has river frontage, but not close enough for it to be a problem after the melt. I discussed all this with the real estate agent. I also took the time to take a good look around for any bear scat or other signs of wildlife. I believe it’s far enough away from the mountain not to cause me any immediate problems. It was built about twenty years ago, and when I checked out the old shed and meat locker, I couldn’t see any signs that animals have tried to force their way inside.” She walked over to the kitchenette and took down two cups from the shelf. “It’s a perfect place for me to fix up. When I’m done, I’ll use it for an artist’s retreat.”
Styles chuckled. “Or maybe a weekend hideaway. I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at Nate.”
“Not likely and not Nate. He’s nice but a little boring.” Beth took out the fixings for the coffee. “Although, if I had any thoughts in that direction, I would more likely be using my apartment. It would be much more comfortable and closer to the local restaurants. Or do you think I’m a cheap date?”
Laughing, Styles shook his head. “Not at all.” He moved the cups over to the coffee machine. “What brings you back into the office this afternoon?”
“I was just about to ask you the same question?” Beth slid the fixings toward him. “You were supposed to be fishing for the next two days. I’d finished my business in town and got bored. You?”
Styles explained about Cassie Burnham. “It’s a mystery. Ryder will follow up with the backpack and put out an all-points bulletin and a BOLO with her description.” He sighed. “The problem is, all around here is so vast, she could be anywhere, and after so long, she could be across the state line for all we know.”
“Like trying to find a needle in a haystack.” Beth added fixings to her coffee. “Did you speak to the other dancers at the club? They might know if she had any threats or problems with a customer. Usually, they warn each other if someone in the crowd is a problem.”
Impressed by her knowledge, Styles shook his head. “Not yet. The investigation hasn’t gotten that far. How do you know so much about exotic dancers?” He dropped into his office chair and took a sip of his coffee.
“Oh, I became friends with a few female dancers during my pole-dancing classes.” Beth stared at him her expression deadly serious.
Spraying coffee across his desk, Styles choked. Eyes watering, he stared at her incredulous. “Your what?” He grabbed handfuls of tissues and mopped up the coffee dripping from the edge of his desk.
“That’s a typical reaction. I assume that you’re not aware that pole dancing is a very intense form of exercise.” She let out a long sigh. “When I was working in DC the hours were variable and I needed to keep fit. It was easier to have a pole in my apartment than to risk running around the city in the middle of the night.”
Trying without too much success to shift the image of Beth pole dancing from his mind, Styles swiveled in his seat and opened his laptop. “Ah, I see.”
“Yeah, well, some of the girls who attended the classes intended to become strippers or were there to hone their skills.” Beth cleared her throat. “We often went for drinks afterward and those type of topics came up. I never mentioned I was an FBI agent. I don’t think it would have gone down too well.”
Hoping the tips of his ears weren’t bright red, Styles turned around to face her. “So, you figure we should go and speak to the dancers about any suspicious men hanging around the club? I’ll call Ryder, it’s his case.”
“I’ll speak to them.” Beth looked at him across her desk. “Maybe you could talk to the security guys. They might have noticed someone acting strange, but I doubt it, only a few of them care about the girls, most of their attention is on the patrons. I gather the crowd gets unruly at times?” Her mouth curled up at the corners and she gave him a knowing smile.
If he’d given her the impression that he spent most of his downtime in strip clubs, she was very much mistaken. “The only time I ever see what goes on inside a gentlemen’s club, Beth, is if Ryder gets called out to prevent a ruckus, and I get hauled along too. It’s not a place I frequent. If I need a drink and company, I’ll drop by TJ’s.” He shrugged. “Not that there’s anything wrong with women removing their clothes for a living, it’s just that those types of dives aren’t my scene.”
“That’s good to know, but they’re not all dives. Some are very high-class establishments.” Beth’s attention moved to her computer screen and then slid back to him. “Are we dropping by Outlaws tonight? If so, and we don’t want to arouse suspicion, I’ll wear something suitable for the occasion and go dressed as a dancer. It is a gentlemen’s club after all.”
Remembering their previous trip to San Francisco, when Beth disguised herself as a sex worker, Styles cleared his throat. “Do you have something suitable to wear?”
“I’m sure I can find something. It’s not like I’m going onstage, is it?” She chuckled. “Don’t worry, I won’t sully your reputation.”
Snorting, Styles shook his head. “Don’t worry about me. I doubt the FBI would take notice of any local complaints and it’s not as if I need the townsfolks’ vote to keep my job. Just give Ryder a wide birth. Right now the conservative side of town considers him to be the best thing since sliced bread.”
“Sure, I’ll keep away from him, but you’re not expecting him to show at Outlaws tonight, are you?”
Styles shook his head. “Nope.” He pulled out his notebook. “I’ll write up a case file for Cassie. What are you working on?”
“I’m still sifting through cold cases.” Beth let out a long sigh and reached for her cup. “I’m particularly interested in possible serial killer murders with DNA traces. I’m convinced unless a serial killer is dead or in jail, the chances of them reoffending is great. I’m hoping to link them to some of the current cases the FBI has under investigation at the moment.”
Styles scratched his chin. “Just don’t go stepping on anyone’s toes. There are a number of cases we can take on if you’re bored.”
“Ah, the boring ones that should be handled by the local PD?” Beth shrugged. “I consider them to be a waste of our resources when one of these cold case files could lead to an arrest of a monster.”
Styles glanced at his watch. “I agree, and we have all afternoon. Mondays are pretty quiet nights in town. The only time I’ve ever been called out over a brawl has been Friday through Sunday.”
“Well, from the local websites, the gentlemen’s clubs open around seven and close around midnight weekdays and two over the weekend.” She peered at him over the edge of the screen. “They must attract enough customers through the door to open seven days a week.” She stared at her computer. “The meals look good and you can get a private dance at Outlaws. Maybe that’s an idea if you want to ask one of the girls a few questions?”
Incredulous, Styles gaped at her. “I admit, at times I don’t do things by the book, but having a stranger wiggling around on my lap isn’t a style of interrogation process I’d consider—at any time.” He narrowed his gaze at her. “Not now, not ever.”
