Page 7 of Strip Search

I watched Darcy doing his Magic Mike impersonation up on the stage and couldn’t decide if I should hustle him off or take blackmail pictures on my phone. It was the second night of hisfriend’s bachelor party and they were bar hopping all over the place. They’d just cruised in from the Spearmint Rhino crocked out of their minds.

Highway raised his eyebrow at me, and I shook my head. Darcy was attracting a crowd that was throwing money and buying drinks. After the fiasco last night with the frat boy fight, I was willing to let Darcy entertain the masses while my girls made some real coin on lap dances and private shows.

I saw out of the corner of my eye that a woman was approaching me hesitantly. I was prepared to ward off a horny pass from a customer. I could see how watching Darcy could work some women up. But when I turned, I knew right away that this chick was in the wrong place.

She had short blond hair and a killer body that was covered in a bland dress. She moved like a dancer, but was out of her element in the strip club. When she saw me watching her, she stumbled and then blushed. When was the last time I saw someone blush? Definitely not around here. But then Darcy’s gyrations caught her attention. Her jaw dropped and she stopped dead in her tracks to goggle at him.

That pissed me off for some reason. I wasn’t the greatest looking guy in the world, but I wasn’t about to get upstaged by a pretty boy Aussie. I got between her and the stage. She had to crane her neck to look up at me.

“Can I help you, Miss?” I asked.

“Is that Darcy Ross?”

“You watch Australian rugby?” I scoffed in disbelief.

“No, but my sister bought a calendar with him and his teammates on it.” She tried to crane her neck around me, but I moved with her. “Let’s just say February was a popular month in our house. I thought he was at the Spearmint Rhino tonight?”

“Are you a stalker or a reporter?”

“Neither.” She tried to peer around me again.

“Weren’t you looking for me?” I growled, blocking her line of sight.

“Oh,” she said, visibly shaking herself. “Yes. I was. That is, if you’re Miles Carvello?” I saw her look at my tattoos. “Of course you are. The doorman said you might have a moment for me.”

I glared up at Highway, who was grinning at me from the door. He knew I liked sassy blondes. “Depends. Who are you and what do you want?”

“My name is Jackie Mitchell. I’m here to find my sister, Lisa.”

“Feel free to look around,” I said, reluctantly stepping aside.

“I will, but I was wondering if you could tell me if she’s taking a shift tonight.”

I gawked at her for a moment. “Your sister’s a dancer?”

Jackie bit her lip and my eyes riveted on her full mouth before I forced myself to look back into her pretty green eyes. I had to concentrate on what she was saying instead of being distracted by her. On any other night, I’d take her into my office and we’d talk over drinks. If I was lucky, drinks would turn to dinner and other intimate matters and then breakfast. But lately with the fights and Ginny selling drugs out of my club, I was ready to crawl out of my skin. I had a bad feeling there was something going on here and whoever was behind it was just waiting for me to drop my guard before dumping the real shit all over Dalton’s.

She handed me a picture and, for the life of me, I couldn’t place her sister. I slowly shook my head. “Her face doesn’t ring a bell. Do you have a body shot of her?” That was probably the wrong thing to say, because Jackie looked stunned but then she recovered.

“I can access her portfolio from my phone. Do you have Wi-Fi?”

“What kind of exotic dancer has a portfolio?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“One that used to dance on Broadway,” Jackie said tartly.

Thatwas familiar. “Broadway. That was her stage name. Yeah, now I remember.”

Jackie’s shoulders eased in relief. “Is she here?”

“Broadway? No, she quit after a week. She danced a few times and then never showed up to work again.”

“When was that?”

I blew out a sigh and stared out at the stage, not seeing the current dancer while I tried to remember the last time Broadway had worked. “I don’t know. About a month ago, maybe less.”

The nibbling on her lower lip began again and I was again transfixed. What was it about this chick and her mouth?

“Can you give me her home address?”

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