Page 126 of Unholy Obsession

“I wasn’t asking.”

Silence. Then, a muttered curse. “Fuck. You think I’d let my own sister disappear?”

I breathe through my nose, forcing the fury into something sharper, something useful. “I’d fucking hope not, but I don’t know what kind of man you are, do I? Help me find my fucking wife.”

Another pause. Then, begrudgingly, “After you came to the club last night, I tracked her credit card.”

That gets my attention. My grip tightens on the phone. “And?”

“Last charge was at a bar yesterday afternoon. She went there after lunch with Kira, and it looks like she ordered a shitload of drinks all at once at two in the afternoon. I’m sorry, man. I told you, she just went on a bender.”

“What bar?”

He exhales sharply, then gives me the name. A place on the west side of the city.

I’m pulling the phone away from my face to hang up when I hear his voice again, “And Bane?—”

I put it back to my ear.

“What?”

“Check back and let me know what you find. I still think she’s just fucked off, probably with some bloke she met at that bar. But I do care about my sister. If she’s in trouble, I wanna know.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” I hang up, furious at him for not giving a shit sooner.

I don’t have any more time to waste. I’m moving with a singular purpose, jumping in my car and putting in the bar’s address, then stomping on the gas.

The bar smellslike stale beer and regret. It’s dimly lit, the kind of place where the floor is perpetually sticky, and the patrons have long since stopped caring about anything but their next drink. The bartender eyes me warily as I approach, polishing a glass with a dirty rag. “What can I get you?”

“Information.” I slide a bill across the bar. “Moira. Auburn curly hair. She was here yesterday afternoon around two o’clock.”

The bartender looks at the money, then at me. His fingers hesitate before he takes it. “Yeah, I remember her. She was with another girl. They looked close.”

Another girl? Kira said she got a text from someone. Everyone at the club last night just assumed it was a man. But it was a woman?

“Can you tell me any more about the woman?”

The bartender shrugs. “Good tits.”

I roll my eyes.

“You said they looked close?”

“Maybe. They were having a good time. Until they weren’t.”

My fingers flex against the bar. “What do you mean?”

“They left in a hurry. Looked spooked.” He shrugs.

Spooked?

“What else?” I demand. “Did you overhear where they said they were going next? Anything?”

But he just shrugs again. “That’s all I know. The other one was dragging your girl out and then they was gone. But your girl had a shit-ton of tequila in her. Kept ordering shots.”

What the fuck has Moira gotten herself into? Why didn’t she come to me? Who was the woman?

“Can I see your security footage?” I demand of the man, already pulling out my wallet. I know enough from my former life that money is the oil that smooths the hinges of the world. And there’s a giant camera hung over the bar pointed straight at the register.

---