Page 31 of Necessary Evil

“Or a detective who knows how crime scenes are processed.”

“So why are you telling me this?” Lucy asked, washing down the lasagna with a healthy swallow of wine. Her buzz was gone all of a sudden, and given their conversation, she really wanted it back.

“Evan seems to have a soft spot for you. He might brag about a few things to try to win you over.”

Lucy just barely stifled an unladylike snort. “Evan doesn’t brag.”

“Well, just keep your eyes open if you’re ever alone with them. This is serious. We can’t have a gang of vigilantes running around Long Island. We don’t want another Bernie Goetz situation.”

“This is so out of your jurisdiction,” she said. “Why don’t you tell the chief about your suspicions and have the department look into it?”

He gave her a look that was so condescending she almost threw her wine in his face. “All that would do is warn Villiers that I’m on to him.”

“So you want me to spy on him for you?” Lucy balled up her napkin and chucked it at him.

He swatted it away. “Not spy. Just keep your ears open when you’re with him.”

“Do your own dirty work.” She pushed back from the table. “Your cousin is a good cook. You’re a bit of a jerk.”

“But I’m rarely wrong,” he said, and saluted her with his wineglass as she gathered up her purse and keys.

“Have a nice weekend, Travis. Thanks for dinner.”

He didn’t try to stop her, and she made it to her car without stumbling or weaving. Sober as a judge. She really could use a few drinks. Before she realized where she was going or could think better of it, she had pulled up to The Blue Line. Why waste a good dress?

And before she could talk herself out of it, Lucy marched right in the front door. She was going to have it out with Evan—unless she chickened out. Then she was just going to talk to him about Chloe’s case.

The bar was filled with blue-collar workers and their ladies. A rousing darts tournament was the center of attention, with a lot of good-natured trash talk. Looking around the bar, she didn’t see any of the SOBs. A woman Lucy didn’t know was behind the bar. The last thing she wanted to do was sit on a barstool beside these guys, so she went upstairs to the VIP section, even though she was pretty sure she didn’t belong up there.

Two goons guarded the door that she had breezed through two years ago, when the VIP room hadn’t even been designed yet. After a quick look at her chest and legs, the goons shook their heads.

“Sorry, babe. This is a private party.”

“Is Evan—I mean Evil—up there?”

They looked at each other. “What’s your name?”

“Lucy.”

One of the guys texted something into his phone. After a moment it buzzed back. “No shit,” he said, and showed the phone to his friend.

“Ryder cleared you. Go on up,” the other guy said, opening the door for her.

I guess I pass muster.

The private party room was a more intimate version of the bar below. Lucy felt immediately overdressed in her silky dress. The women were in tank tops or bikini tops and shorts or miniskirts. There were a bunch of beautiful people wandering around, playing darts or pool. It was a crowded place in full party mode. There was also a lot of groping and kissing going on in the corners. The upstairs had changed a lot since she’d barged in two years ago. Evil had moved things around and taken down some walls. The closet where Sentinel and Jenny had been knocking boots two years ago was now booths and tables—although from what she could see through the throng of bodies, Lucy was sure someone either was either getting lucky or else was dancing really hard in the booth.

She tried not to stare, but what if one of them was Evan? Lucy vowed that if she saw him with a hoochie mama, she would just leave without causing a scene. Or maybe she would cause a scene. She was feeling reckless tonight. There was a buzz under her skin that made her feel like howling at the moon. The last thing she wanted to do was go home.

Am I really going to do this? I can still run.

“Well, you’ve brought the class of this joint up a few levels. Want a beer?” A young and handsome man handed her a bottle of Bud, and she took it. He was almost pretty, with a smattering of freckles across his nose and wide brown eyes that were framed by long lashes.

“Thanks,” Lucy said with a smile, and clinked bottles with him. “I’m Lucy.”

“Cal. It’s nice to meet you.” He stared into her eyes, and she blushed a little. This was a hell of a lot more fun than drinking expensive wine with Travis. “Do you ride?”

Before she could answer, Finn came over to her. “Lucy, what are you doing here?” He frowned at Cal.

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