Page 7 of Prey

“Freddie, where the fuck is she getting the needles from? There better not be any dealing on the floor?” I stated accusingly. Freddie adhered to our high standards, but many of the girls hired were already a lost cause and put up a good image when interviewed for the job.

“Jeez, Mr. Bryne, how the fuck did she get in here?” he repeated my question.

“Get her into a fucking rehab, Freddie,” I instructed. “Don’t tell her to come back until she’s clean. And fuck, Freddie, make sure the club is spotless for when Mikky returns, alright? Because you know he hates drugs in the house more than I do.”

“Right on, Mr. Bryne, but I swear I never knew she was in here,” he mumbled, dragging her rubbery body to the door. “Get Betty to call some girls in to do an extra shift, would ya.”

“Alright, Ronan,” he agreed. “Betty will know what to do with Candy, too. But we need to advertise for more staff.”

“For what?” I asked evenly.

“A kitchenhand quit, and a dealer left on maternity leave,” he explained as Candy’s legs gave way, and luckily, Freddie caught her before she landed.

“Fine, and advertise for two more dancers, as well, Freddie,” I ordered. “And…to avoid this becoming a regular occurrence,” pointing my chin at Candy, “start mandatory drug testing weekly rather than monthly to weed out the gold from the crap.”

“I’m on to it, Ronan,” he agreed.

“Good,” I said, locking the door behind him.

I waited until it was quiet before flicking the switch that opened the bookshelf, a hidden door that covered the safe. I punched my code into the safe, placed the books and USB inside, and shut it up again.

When I sat back at the desk, I felt something in my pocket and pulled out the keycard copy for that poor girl’s room that Gunner was convinced was Annika Kaiser. Fuck, Gunner needed to get a new hobby rather than harassing unsuspecting college girls.

When I relaxed back in the chair, I wondered again how the fuck Candy got in there. This office was locked 24/7, and only Gunner and I could access it, so I left my office to catch up with Freddie dragging the crackhead down the stairs because the dinner girl and her trolley were using the elevator.

“Freddie,” I called after him at the bottom of the stairs. “Ask the girl how she got into the office.”

He shook her to break her out of her drug-induced doziness. “Candy. Candy, how did you get into the office?”

She murmured something I didn’t catch. “She said it was unlocked.”

“Unlocked? How?” I was perturbed and pissed off.

“Maybe Gunner left it unlocked,” Freddie told me.

“Gunner? When was he here?”

“Er, this morning, he said he came to get something. Didn’t say what,” Freddie explained.

“Alright, thanks.”

As soon as I’d locked myself back in the office again, I swiped for Gunner’s number.

“Sup,” he answered after three rings.

“Did you come down to the club today?” I asked him.

“Yeah, why?”

“You left the door unlocked,” I accused him. “You know we never leave the fucking door unlocked.”

“Bro, it wasn’t me. Besides, it self-locks when you leave,” he pointed out correctly.

“Only if the lock is turned. How did Candy get in here?” I argued smoothly, never raising my voice.

“Fuck knows,” he retorted. “I wouldn’t know Candy in a lineup. You tell me. Maybe she was hoping you’d strum her banjo.”

“Forget it,” I cringed at the thought of seeing Candy’s banjo, let alone strumming it. “Anyway, what did you come down here for?”

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