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  The uniform was designed to put on a good show, or as Rushe would put it: for the art. Men liked to have semi-nude women hanging around, and Flick would happily shirk any of her inhibitions to get forward movement in the investigation. When Rushe returned, she had to have something to report.

  Until Flick knew Lisa’s path, she couldn’t dig much deeper at the library because she was digging blind; putting in a lot of work without knowing what, or who, was relevant. The goal of the mission was to locate Lisa Lewis, and to do that Flick needed more information.

  The cab dropped Flick off at the end of the alley Ray had told her to use. She paid the driver and walked down the broad unlit space under the imposing figure of the thirty-storey hotel that blanketed the whole area in intimidating murk. Any time she felt fear Flick reminded herself who she went to bed with.

  The narrow staff entrance opened onto a stairwell that led downward. At the bottom was another door, which opened before Flick could reach it. The man on the other side blocked her path.

  ‘You Flick?’ the bass-baritone asked.

  She nodded and he backed away, pointing to one of the two doors in the small dark hallway, so Flick accepted the direction with another nod. Something had to be said for a place that didn’t have a doorman on the door. This guy guarded the place from the bowels of the complex, which meant if someone came in and caused trouble no one would hear, or see, any altercation.

  Flick walked into a room that made her think of a theatre dressing room. A row of mirrors took up one wall, perpendicular to that was a closed door with a small security scanner attached. A restroom stood in the corner, and then there was a metal rail with rows and rows of clothes on it. Flick peeked around that rail to see another.

  On realising that the other rack was packed with lingerie, Flick’s chin came up. But the entrance door bashed into her, leaving her no time to panic or to flee, and three women came in laughing, so Flick ignored the pain in her shoulder blade.

  ‘You the new girl?’ the first blonde asked. ‘I’m Kimberly, and that’s Rosa Vallario, our queen bee.’

  Rosa was brunette and the oldest of the women, though not by much, she couldn’t be more than a couple of years older than Flick was. Her dress was black with red lace trim, her shoes red, her contrast of inverted uniform colours marked her out as different.

  ‘I’m not sure what I just walked in to,’ Flick said.

  Kimberly cackled out a laugh. ‘You saw the underwear and freaked!’

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ Rosa said, taking Flick’s hand to lead her to a station in the furthest corner. ‘You can set up here.’

  ‘Set up?’ Flick asked, allowing herself to be turned so Rosa could remove her coat.

  ‘Don’t be freaked,’ Kimberly said. ‘Nancy here got freaked by it too.’

  Nancy was the other blonde-haired woman. Her eyes darted one way and then the other, but she didn’t speak. Her legs were long and her figure was slight, until the breasts on her body, much like Flick, except Nancy’s were very definitely of the silicone variety.

  ‘I just started last week,’ Nancy said. ‘The women here are really nice.’

  Rushe had told Flick about listening more to what people didn’t say than what they did. The “women” were nice, but Nancy didn’t say a thing about the men.

  ‘What’s the underwear for?’ Flick asked.

  Rosa and Kimberly were adjusting themselves, admiring their figures and their make-up in the mirror next to hers. Flick noted that there were six stations in all, but only four women, which meant there were more people coming, or other vacant positions to fill.

  ‘Not for you to worry about,’ Rosa said. Recognition hit Flick when Rosa straightened up, something about her was familiar, but Flick couldn’t put her finger on what. ‘Marv won’t like us being late. We’ll show you what to do.’

  Kimberly and Nancy went out first. Rosa took Flick’s hand and led her out too. ‘You’ll be on the Thursday to Sunday night shifts. Tips are great on the weekend. My best piece of advice is to keep smiling.’

  ‘Smiling?’

  Their gaggle moved to the entry way and through the other door. The Lounge was larger than Flick had anticipated. The room was long and rectangular with a sunken bar of the same shape in the centre. Heavy armchairs stood at one side of the bar, as it was low enough to act as a table for patrons.

  Flick’s initial confusion about why they would have a sunken bar was cleared up when she saw Nancy teeter up at its side and bend to pick up a tray while talking to the man working the bar. Now the thong underwear made sense too.

  ‘The men in here gamble big, they drink big, and they talk serious. Learn to be invisible until they want to see you,’ Rosa said to Flick, and released her hand when they got to the bar.

  It struck Flick that Rosa’s words weren’t far off Rushe’s. Except Rushe would tell Flick that she didn’t ever want to be seen. In this outfit, and in this job, she doubted that was possible.

  ‘Where should I start?’ Flick asked.

  A couple of poker tables were positioned beside a roulette wheel on one side of the bar, an unlit stage stood at the head of the room, and on this side of the bar, where the staff entrance was, were deep, broad leather couches arranged around large, low tables.

  Patrons were scattered around the place. Being the newest server, she drew the attention of more than a few of them. Just because Flick hadn’t made eye contact didn’t mean she wasn’t aware of their gaze. Appearing meek and unsure on her first night played into what she wanted them to see.

  Flick didn’t want anyone to think her vigilant. She didn’t want to be a threat, she wanted them to look their fill and then forget her. This uniform that the Lounge had put her in had one major upside, such a revealing costume would ensure that the customers would likely forget her face and anything she said.

  ‘Stick with me tonight,’ Rosa said. ‘I’ll show you around. Ten ‘til three is a good shift.’

  Tonight would be about learning the ropes, and remembering every detail that she could. Flick would learn the job, and then she’d belong here. Rushe did this undercover thing; he’d done it for years. She had ground to gain in experience, but Flick was determined to pull her weight. Rushe would be glad to have her with him; she had to make him proud. After everything they’d already been through, this would be a walk in the park.

  The walk was going to be longer than Flick had expected. After four nights working at the Lounge, Flick now knew Marv, the bar tender. Other than the croupiers, he was the only male that worked inside the Lounge, because security remained outside the room.

  She and Rosa, along with Nancy and Kimberly, all worked the ten to three shifts, Thursday to Sunday night. Flick had met a few other women in passing on the shift change over, but none matched Lisa’s description. None of the women seemed to be under duress either.

  At three AM each night women swathed in lingerie came into the Lounge. Their purpose was obvious, but they didn’t appear upset about it.

  Flick had noted the details; the Lounge had three access points, the staff entrance, the casino access, and the most frequently used door led to the hotel. Men came and went; some of the three AM women left with male patrons, sometimes only a few minutes after their shift started. Because it happened so quickly Flick thought that it had to be a pre-arranged or regular agreement. Flick had witnessed some drug use, but nothing that caused her significant alarm. The men were rich, and the women were willing.

  On this Sunday night Flick was beginning to wonder if her undercover gig had been for naught. Then, the hotel access door opened and through it walked three men.

  Straight away she recognised one of them as Joseph Galante Senior. Flick didn’t recognise the man in the centre, but the third she was almost positive was Evan Whyte. If she was right, then this was a coup.

  Flick served the drinks from her tray, reminding herself not to stare, and then hurried back to the bar at Rosa’s side.

  ‘That there
is Joseph Galante, the shorter one with the dark hair,’ Rosa said without prompting. ‘In the middle, with the paunch, is Richard Davis, his family is old money.’

  ‘Who is the other one?’ Flick asked, trying not to gawp in much the same way Nancy was.

  At least the interest of the other waitress gave Flick cover to look her fill. These men were probably used to attracting attention. No doubt they coveted it, especially that of young women who would probably be impressed by the tiniest display of wealth, and flattered by the slightest show of admiration.

  The affluence meant nothing to Flick, not just because Rushe was flush but because her family were money, probably older than Davis’ was. Her upbringing gave Flick an advantage, and she sized up the shallow men in an instant. Those men, like her father’s cohorts, were superior sons of bitches. Worship was what they wanted; they were the type who believed it was their right to be idolised.

  The three men took space in the corner, seating themselves in the leather couches. Not one of them detracted from the debate they were enthralled in, despite the interest they were drawing.

  ‘You want to serve them?’ Rosa asked.

  It took Flick a dozen seconds to realise that Rosa was talking to her. ‘Me?’

  ‘Kimberly and I have met them. Nancy shakes when she serves the dealer on his break, and he’s no one. You’ve got a head on your shoulders.’

  ‘But I’ve never—‘

  ‘Marv has the order,’ Rosa said. ‘Just take it over.’

  ‘Should I introduce myself?’

  ‘If they ask... Mr. Whyte likes to get to know the girls in here.’

  So Flick had been right about the identity of the third man. ‘Ok.’

  Marv put the last glass on the tray and tapped the counter, in the way he did when orders were ready to go. Rosa widened her smile and Flick set her eyes on the table, her destination. Bending at the waist, she lifted the tray, and began to move across the room. This was the reason she was here, she couldn’t lose her nerve now.

  Flick wasn’t intimidated by power, nor was she intimidated by physical size. But Rushe wasn’t here, and for the first time Flick felt nervous without her net. Rushe wasn’t home yet, she hadn’t heard a word. More was the point that Rushe didn’t know where Flick was.

  Being here in this place wasn’t enough to get her into trouble. She had a job, a right to be here, and no one knew her ulterior motive. So pasting on a smile, Flick strode toward them and bent to slide the tray onto the table.

  ‘You’re wrong. He’ll be valuable,’ Joseph Galante said, but no one responded.

  Peeping up through her long lashes, Flick noticed all three men staring at her. The angle of her body gave them optimum viewing pleasure. They might remember her cleavage, but she doubted that they’d remember her face.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Flick said in a small voice that wasn’t nervous, it was... innocent. Until she opened her mouth, Flick hadn’t realised that she was going to play it coy. ‘I’m new, I don’t... I’m not sure who drinks what.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about that,’ Davis said, taking his own glass, then pushing his two cronies their respective drinks. ‘Aren’t you a cute thing.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, taking her tray from the table. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt.’

  ‘Stay a while,’ Davis said, sliding along the couch to create space.

  ‘Don’t do the smarmy thing with my girls, Davis, please,’ Whyte chimed in. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Flick accepted Whyte’s apology as sincere. All of the men sat in perfectly pressed business suits, but while Galante was shifty and Davis was smarmy, Whyte seemed the most genuine of the three. Through her research, Flick knew the history of each man present. Now that she’d looked them each in the eye, it felt dishonest to be so familiar with their lives.

  Whyte held her stare, and his smile was comforting. It didn’t matter how well you played the game, Flick supposed, everyone needed reassurance. She had approached this table full of confidence, but then she had spoken with none. Nancy’s anxious manner was starting to make more sense.

  ‘You started this week?’ Whyte asked. Flick nodded and blinked her eyes five or six times. The coy thing seemed to be working. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Flick.’

  Davis laughed. ‘I love it. Is that really your name? Or just your name at work?’

  ‘She’s not a stripper,’ Whyte said to Davis. ‘Please ignore my associate, he has issues in communicating with those on a higher plane than he is.’

  ‘God complex,’ Galante muttered, and buried his mouth in his glass.

  The words reminded Flick of a dead man. ‘It’s ok,’ Flick said. ‘Everyone here has been very nice.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it, I’m Evan Whyte. If you have any trouble you come to me, ok?’

  Flick let her smile twist reluctantly. ‘Thank you, but I...’

  ‘What is it? Whyte asked.

  ‘I don’t think I’m allowed to just drop by your office. I haven’t seen anything of the place outside this room.’

  He seemed to appreciate her reluctant humour because his smile briefly widened. ‘Really? You’ve haven’t seen the hotel?’ Flick shook her head, keeping her eyes trained to his. ‘That’s a travesty. How do you feel about having dinner with me?’

  ‘Oh no, I... I don’t think I’m supposed to—‘

  ‘You’re off tomorrow night, right? That’s how the shifts work.’

  ‘Well yes, but...’

  ‘I’ll show you around. I might even show you my office.’

  Flick hadn’t expected this, and she had no idea how to react. But spending time with Whyte would show her his true persona. If she was right, then she could ask for help with locating Lisa Lewis. But if Rushe was right... It was a risk Flick would have to take and just hope that Rushe would be home to advise her before she found herself in any compromising positions.

  ‘I’d love to.’

  Chapter Seven

  Flick continued to serve drinks throughout the rest of the evening. A few times, she had caught Whyte watching her work. Since he had declared his interest, the other two men dismissed her as no longer relevant.

  According to the research Whyte was single, and while pictures of him with different women existed, Flick didn’t get the impression that he was a womaniser. So she convinced herself that having dinner with him was safe. In her opinion, the risk had to be minimal, and she was determined. Getting closer to this man would be very useful to the case and he also insulated her from the others. Flick was sure Davis would be the type to get handsy after a few alcoholic drinks.

  At three AM precisely, two women came in wearing lingerie – these were the provided call girls – and neither of them went anywhere near the Whyte table. But that table didn’t flinch at the sight either.

  On returning her tray to the bar, Flick was about to leave when she noticed a woman come through the hotel access and go directly to the Whyte table.

  The newest blonde wasn’t like the escorts, she went to the table but she waited to be acknowledged by Davis. Words were exchanged, and then the woman with the refined features left the men and went back to the hotel alone.

  ‘You don’t want Davis to catch you looking at him like that. Stick with Whyte,’ Rosa said.

  News of their meeting tomorrow night had spread like wild fire, and Flick felt committed already.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ Flick said. ‘He’s just being nice.’

  ‘Men like that don’t have to be nice,’ Rosa said. ‘Don’t tell me I have to explain it to you. You don’t strike me as the naive type.’

  Maybe a few months ago Flick would have. She hadn’t carried her act with the men onto her colleagues. ‘I know he’s rich. I know he could have his pick of women. Do you think it’s just sex he wants?’

  ‘If it was just sex he could have one of the girls provided for that. They pay the hookers through a third party, so it’s all legit. Course we pass on the cost to the john, with a lit
tle extra on top.’

  ‘Do they work elsewhere in the complex?’

  ‘The Lounge here is the only place anyone is allowed to pay for sex, or sell their body. It wouldn’t be tolerated anywhere else. All the girls are checked out before they’re allowed to transact in here.’

  Flick altered her focus toward Rosa. ‘Checked out? Does that mean blackmailed?’

  ‘No,’ Rosa said on a laugh. ‘Nothing so sinister, these girls are the high-class type, not your regular crack whores. They do this because they want to, and they get paid damn well for it.’

  Any man using a prostitute was open to blackmail himself, especially if he wanted to brand himself as squeaky clean.

  ‘So what is it Whyte wants from me?’

  ‘I’ve worked here for years, and I’ve seen him take an interest in a few girls. A couple of them spent his money, and then he set them loose. Three or four of them had their hearts broken. One even broke his heart.’

  ‘How did she do that?’

  ‘Screwed around on him we thought, don’t know exactly. We saw her once after they split. She didn’t reveal anything, then she was gone.’

  ‘Gone?’

  ‘Moved back west, we think. She came from Vegas, plenty of work out there for a girl in our trade... or in theirs.’

  Rosa let her interest drift to another corner where one of the call girls was taking a well- lubed patron across the room toward the hotel access. That particular customer had come in from the casino; it was unlikely that he had a hotel room reserved.

  He groped as the escort teased, and on that kind of promise it wouldn’t take the guy long to get booked in, perhaps to their most expensive available suite. The elite escort would be used to deluxe standards.

  Busting a place like this wide open would be a vice detective’s dream. But Flick hadn’t seen any indication of undercover activity, or of the place being under any kind of surveillance. Maybe the establishment was legit, and Flick had come at this from the wrong angle.