Page 112 of Lost in the Moonlight

“Who wants to know?”

“Axel Garner, Garner Securities. I’m looking for Poco.”

Paul poured a pint and slid it toward Axel before filling another he sent in my direction. “Have a beer.”

“We’re not here for—” I started just as Axel said, “Sure.”

He sat down on a stool, pulled a roll of cash from a pocket of his jacket, and made a big show of unwinding a couple of twenties before setting them on the bar. Contrary to everything I’d ever learned about self-defense and protection, Axel sat with his back to an entire room full of people as if he didn’t care that they might come at him. I slid onto the stool next to him, twisting so I could take in at least half the room. My shoulders were tight, body tense and ready for anyone who might attack.

“Poco was taking care of some business for me. He’ll be back soon. If you tell me why you’re looking for him, I might be ableto help you.” He looked as rough and hard as his clients, but his voice was smooth and educated, seeming to contradict what Hardy had told me about him.

“He’s been harassing my clients, selling images of them,” Axel said calmly, all business. “We need to come to an understanding before things get out of hand.”

“This about what happened at Hector’s place?” Paul asked.

“And more,” Axel said.

Paul’s eyes landed on me, taking me in. “No Secret Service detail today.”

“Do I need them?” I grunted out, and Paul’s lips twitched.

“Depends.”

“Your employee hasn’t learned a very important life skill,” Axel commented, drawing Paul’s eyes back to him. The man leaned against the counter behind him and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yeah? Which one is that?”

“No means no.”

Paul’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “You telling me Poco attacked a woman?” He shook his head. “No fucking way. He knows I won’t tolerate that shit. I have a mom, a sister, a daughter. No one lays a hand on them. No one lays a hand on my employees either.”

“How about Hector’s employees?” Axel asked.

Paul moved fast, smacking a hand on the counter and leaning in with anger sparking in his dark green eyes. “Shay? He went after Shay?”

“No,” I grunted out.

“The blonde then. Nice ass. Small tits.”

My fists clenched, and I leaned in too so that our faces were closer together. “Watch what you say.”

Paul laughed and eased back. “Poco was always a sucker for a sweet little blonde. But he knows my rules. Knows he’s out altogether if I catch wind he’s assaulted a woman. If she said something happened, she’s lying.”

“Believe me, he forgot that rule the other night in the cemetery. I was there. I saw it with my own eyes, and if I hadn’t intervened, he would have hauled her away,” I stormed.

Paul’s eyes turned thoughtful. “The cemetery? What night was this?”

“Early last Tuesday. Like two a.m., kind of early,” I said.

“Did he have a shovel?” Paul asked.

I shrugged. Hadn’t Willow said he’d had one? “Maybe.”

The song ended and nothing replaced it. The silence was both a relief and a deafening scream. In that quiet, the door to the back room slammed shut, and I turned to see Poco walking in. He took one look at Axel and me at the bar, and his beady eyes narrowed impossibly further.

Paul called out, “Hey, Poco, you been selling pictures of Hector’s baker to people?”

Poco scoffed, heading toward us with a sure gait not matched by his eyes that darted around. He halted with his hands shoved into his jacket several yards away. “Why the hell would I do that?”

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