Page 75 of Riordan's Revenge

We exited the lift on the ground floor. Manny saw me into the strip club’s dressing room then left me with the security guards there. Being back in a busy room should’ve helped me, but I was still rattled.

I forced my attention to the present. Manny wasn’t wrong. Arran had been devastated by the loss of Alisha. He’d cared about her. He’d be cut up about Convict, too. I’d find him later for a chat.

Another hour of shift management with the staff who only stripped for their living and I had a set rota. One we’d repeat over and over, swapping individual shifts where needed and arranging overtime for the fun events Everly had planned. Manny had showed me the system where they managed thestaff, and with a sense of achievement, I uploaded it, perched at a mirrored table with striptease music in the background.

A small burst of sadness accompanied my work. The previous staff rota was Alisha’s, complete with her notes, often in pink type. Overwriting it felt all kinds of wrong.

For all my efforts and my meandering thoughts, the sense of disquiet didn’t lift.

My skin still crawled. Manny wasn’t the culprit, so then who?

I knew the names of all the dancers around me and was in the eyeline of the security guard, but something still felt off.

A hand landed on my shoulder.

I squeaked and spun in my chair to find Arran looming over me. With my hand to my heart, I exhaled. “You scared the life out of me. Having trouble answering your phone?”

The skeleton crew leader twisted his lips in a smirk. “I’ve been busy. I still am, but I just wanted to say welcome back.” His gaze ticked over the busy room then came back to me. “You asked me once if you could dance here. I like you managing the staff a lot more. Fuck knows I don’t have the headspace to pick it up.”

A darkness hung in his eyes. Arran’s building of the warehouse and his mission to protect women abused by men like his father had formed a constant backdrop of my teenage years. I knew him well enough to tell when he was hurting.

“Cassie. Someone’s looking for you.”

I turned to find Lara nearing. In her black-and-pink club uniform, and with sparkly strands in her hair, she was a friend of Genevieve’s, but not someone I’d talked much to. Clem managed her shifts as front-of-house staff.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“Oops. I didn’t get a name. She said you’d want to see her.”

Well, that didn’t help. “Thanks.”

I came back to address Arran, but he’d gone.

Frowning, I returned to Lara. “Wait, while you’re here, I’m doing the rota and wanted to check something.”

Her smile lessened. “Clem manages my hours.”

“I know, but I’ve been going around to all the dancers and other staff tonight so I might as well check your details are correct.” I read out her address from the notes.

“Actually, it’s wrong. I moved. I’m living in Harbour Point now.” She recited the new address. An apartment on the waterfront not far up from the warehouse.

I whistled. “Nice. Did ye go in with roommates?”

She gave a short laugh but didn’t answer. Something in that snagged in my brain. That address was a prime location, and the apartments shiny and new. I’d already noticed that she’d reduced to part time in the past few weeks. It didn’t add up.

Equally, it wasn’t my business. I returned to why she’d sought me out. “On the visitor, got a description?”

“About twenty, black hair, pretty.”

My stomach tightened. There was one person I knew who fit that to a T. Moniqua. “Could you please bring her to me?”

Lara hesitated. “You don’t want to go somewhere private?”

Why would she ask that? “No.”

A minute later, and Moniqua followed Lara back in. Lara spoke in her ear, then Moniqua found me and approached.

“Cassie, right? Can we talk?”

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