Page 113 of Girl Between
“We’re on duty,” LaSalle reminded her.
“I’m not,” Lena argued, handing the waitress some cash. “Keep ‘em coming.”
“The rest of us aren’t drinking,” LaSalle said, flashing her badge discreetly.
The waitress nodded and hustled away.
“Well, now she’s not gonna tell us anything,” Lena remarked.
“Since when are you a detective?” LaSalle shot back.
“I’ve seen cops. People clam up when the shield comes out.”
“It’s doubtful she’d have anything to tell us,” Richter said. “Hospitality industry has a high turnover and our vics worked here a long time ago.”
“Doesn’t hurt to ask,” Dana said.
The waitress appeared again, this time she was holding a tray stacked with mimosas. She set it on their table. “On the house, officers,” she said with a wink. “These three are zero proof,” she added. “To help you blend in.” She handed the last one to Lena. “Yours is high-octane, honey.”
LaSalle tried to argue but the waitress disappeared back into the crowd, which was now hooting and hollering for Penny Tration, a leggy drag queen dressed like the sexy version of the horror movie clown Pennywise. It was both jarring and alluring, and Dana couldn’t look away.
Lena raised her champagne flute, ready to cheer but LaSalle crossed her arms.
“Oh, come on,” Lena pressed. “She said yours is virgin.”
“Like I’ll just take her word for it and risk my badge.”
Lena rolled her eyes. “Nobody gets drunk at a bottomless mimosa bar. This is 99% orange juice, probably from concentrate,” she said, knocking her glass back, eyes suddenly wide. “I stand corrected. This shit’s the real deal.”
LaSalle continued to refrain, but Dana and Richter each grabbed a glass. “To blending in,” Richter said, clinking his glass to theirs before draining it.
Dana was just raising hers to her lips when she locked eyes with an unexpected face.
Dr. Henri Taurant was the last person she’d expected to see casually flipping dollar bills onto the stage at a drag brunch. And from the shock on his flawlessly done up face, he was just as surprised.
Dana grabbed Lena’s knee. “I work with him.” She casually jutted her chin in Taurant’s direction.
“The guy with the big nose and gorgeous turquoise eyelashes?”
“Yep.”
Lena grinned. “You get more interesting by the day.”
“I think we should talk to him,” Dana pushed.
“About the case?” Lena asked. “Why?”
“He’s always bragging that he knows everyone and everything that goes on in this town. His nosiness might pay off.”
“Well, you better move fast,” Lena said, nodding toward Taurant.
Dana turned back in time to see her ex-coworker hightailing it from his table. She gave Richter a tactical shoulder tap and went after Taurant. She didn’t stop to see if Richter was following. She’d worked with Jake long enough to know the man who trained him would have her six.
The military lingo came to her naturally now. She used to think that was a good thing—letting Jake into her life and vernacular. She hated second-guessing that.
But the Reaper case made her second-guess everything.
Shoving her torment aside, Dana focused on her retreating coworker. Taurant moved fast for a skinny old historian in heels, but Dana was faster. She cut him off on the grand columned front porch. Even with the exuberant amount of rouge on his cheeks, Taurant turned a shade paler than the yellow exterior paint of the lively restaurant.
