Page 15 of Shadow Angel
Having worked in cybercrime, Beth never left home without a few flash drives and pulled one from her pocket. “Here you go.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall.
“Two of the men on this list come by regular every Tuesday.” Styles glanced up from the notebook. “Are they here now?”
“Yeah, they come by after four, regular as clockwork every Tuesday.” Brook smiled at him. “They drop by on Friday as well, same time. I’ve known them for years. They work day and night shifts out at the Lost Gem Mine. They work Wednesday night, and Thursday and Friday daytime. They’re always here Friday night, then work Sunday through Tuesday and finish at three.”
“So, you know the shifts the miners usually work?” Styles ran his gaze down the list of frequent customers. “How so?”
“Not all, because they change shifts from time to time. It’s good business for me to know when to put more girls on the schedule. We only have one or two working on the slow days.” Brook straightened some papers on his desk, knocking them into a pile and slipping them into a drawer. “The men around these parts work unusual hours in the mines and they’re all different. Some are one week on and one week off. Others work days one week and nights the next. They often work odd hours. It suits me fine. It means we always have customers walking in the door.” He leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen for a few seconds before pulling the flash drive out and handing it to Beth. “There you go.” He looked at Styles. “Anything else I can do for you?”
“Yeah, you can point out the men you mentioned.” Styles stood. “We can interview them out there in front of everyone, or we can use your office. It’s up to you.”
“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Brook pushed to his feet and sighed. “I’ll bring them to you one at a time. I don’t want everyone running out of the club believing we’re in the middle of a raid.”
Beth took her notebook from Styles. “What are their names?”
“Steve Smith and Jace Conan.” Brook moved past her to the door. “I’ll bring Steve in first. Please don’t scare the heck out of them. They’re good customers and tip the girls real well. They’re close by. I won’t be long.”
After making notes, Beth turned to Styles. “You speak to these men. I’m not sure what happens to them when they walk into a strip club. They turn into sexist pigs like it’s their right or something to act that way. It took all my willpower out there to stop myself from bending back that man’s fingers and breaking them.” She shook her head. “A woman should be able to walk into a bar without being touched by someone she doesn’t know and then subjected to indecent suggestions.”
“I agree.” Styles scratched his cheek, concern etched over his face. “Touching you was a mistake. I wasn’t going to stand by and watch it either. I figure you handled yourself pretty well in there and kept control of the situation.”
Turning around to face him, Beth frowned. “I never lose my temper, Styles. I’m always in control. I don’t care where I’m living, but wherever it is, I do expect to be respected as a human being and not an object. I did feel threatened, especially surrounded by an entire room of men mostly under the influence of alcohol, and by Montana law if I considered my life was in danger, I could have drawn down on him… but I didn’t, did I?” She chuckled. “Although, when you swore under your breath, I figured you were going to hit him for sure.”
“It was on my mind.” Styles gave her a slow smile. “I must admit fighting back-to-back with you scratches an itch I get from time to time.”
Amused, Beth’s concern dissipated like a sun-shower on the hot blacktop and she relaxed. “Have you always been a brawler?”
“Since grade school.” Styles rubbed the scar on his chin as if it reminded him of something long ago. “I was bigger than most of the other kids, and I didn’t like bullies picking on the younger ones. So, I spent most of my time in detention or being suspended. It seems I’ve always been able to hit hard. That’s the main reason I went into the Army. I needed self-discipline and an outlet for my aggression. It didn’t help. I haven’t changed. Agreed, I do have self-control now, but I prefer using my fists to settle a problem rather than shooting people.” He grinned. “That’s why working here suits me just fine.”
“Ha.” Amused, Beth shook her head. “And you figured I was the rattlesnake.”
EIGHTEEN
As Beth waited to start the interview, she looked at Styles. “Maybe we shouldn’t mention that we believe Cassie is dead?”
“Okay.” Styles pulled out a notebook from his inside pocket. “We’ll just mention she’s missing and see what happens.” He looked toward the door as it swung open and Brook walked in with a young burly man. “Thanks, Mr. Brook, we’ll take it from here.”
The strong smell of cologne surrounded the newcomer and Beth stepped back. The men around these parts must bathe in the stuff. If they really believed walking around in a cloud of cheap splash-on was attractive to women, they needed their heads read. Surely she wasn’t the only woman who appreciated a more subtle aroma when it came to men’s store-bought fragrances.
“What’s this all about?” The young man looked from one to the other. “Hal said the FBI wanted to speak to me.”
“I’m Agent Styles and this is Agent Katz. We’re speaking to anyone who interacted with Cassie Burnham, one of the dancers who works here, over the last week or so.” Styles sat on the edge of Brook’s desk acting casual. “I believe you’re one of her regulars and had a private dance Friday night?”
“So what?” Smith folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not the only one. She’s a good-looking girl and dances real fine. It’s really none of your business if I enjoy her company for a few minutes once a week. It’s not like I’m dating her or anything.”
“I agree.” Styles shrugged. “I don’t give a darn what you do inside the club. I need information on what happened when she left. What time did you leave here Friday last?”
“I don’t rightly recall, ten maybe eleven.” Smith rubbed the back of his neck. “Me and Jace usually stay over at the motel, like most of the guys who come here. It’s an easy walk. We don’t spend all our time in the club, we often finish up the night playing pool in the bar.”
A thought came to Beth. “Do any of the guys who hang out here take women back to the motel? I’m not looking to charge anyone for soliciting or anything like that. I just want to find out the way of things in town.”
“Some do, yeah.” Smith’s forehead creased into a frown. “Why, has something happened to Cassie? She’s not here tonight and I’d hoped to see her dance.”
“Did you see her leave the club on Friday night?” Styles ignored his question and just stared at him.
“Nope.” Smith smiled. “She breaks up her sessions onstage. Some of them stay up there for an hour, just slow dancing, but Cassie, she gives us a show. On the pole, you know what I mean, and then crawls around the edge of the stage, so we can tuck—”
“Yeah, I get the picture.” Styles flicked Beth a glance, rolled his eyes skyward and then turned his attention back to Smith. “So, what did you talk about during her private session with you. I know you talk.”
