Page 92 of Bar Down, Baby

I literally growl at him and he laughs like a spastic hyena, raising his palms.

My pocket buzzes. I expect it to be Megan with a steamy text. But it’s a phone number I don’t recognize. I wouldn’t normally pick up, but it’s a Minnesota area code. My gut tightens, and I nod at Freddy who steps in and yells at the guys who are warming up on the ice. I step into the tunnel toward the locker rooms.

“Derek Carroll.”

“Hello Derek,” a soft, breathy voice says. But there’s nothing sexy about the way she speaks.

“Who is this?”

“This is Veronica calling from your service in Minneapolis.”

My stomach coils into a knot. Then I frown at the number. I know I erased the numbers stored in my phone for the services in other cities, but I have a good memory for phone numbers, and this one doesn’t seem right. Also, Veronica was the girl I used to hire, not the booker.

“Why are you calling?”

“I wanted to give you a heads up. We’ve been questioned as part of some investigation. It’s starting to make the rounds. National news.”

“Who iswe?” I ask. My head starts pounding as my throat goes dry.

“Me. A few of the other girls. Our booker was arrested.”

Fuck.Fuck.“Shit.”

“She’s not naming names. No one is. I’m calling on a burner phone.”

Fuck. I’ve got a call girl phoning me during a game on a burner phone. My stomach tightens until it’s a hard, cold pit of dread.

“What do you want?”

She’s quiet for a moment. Then she laughs.

“Want? I don’t want anything. I just wanted to give you a heads up. Tell you to look out for yourself. Do I have to want something?” The acid in her tone makes me feel sick with myself.

“Of course not,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I know it’s… well, it’s a lot.” She’s quiet for a moment. “I always felt like you were a good person. I just… I have a family. Not sure if you know that. But if they dig deeper, if they question you. If you name names—”

“I’m not—”

“Could you just… leave my name out of it?”

I feel hollow. My head is pounding, my throat is tight. What the fuck is happening? She’s on a burner phone and their booker is in custody and she’s asking me to protect her?

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

I end the call and delete it from my log.Fuck. She said the news is already making the rounds? What does that mean?

My chest tightens as I check CNN, but there’s nothing there. I’m afraid to type in escort service into Google and see what I get. But then I hear a whistle from the ice, and there’s no time for me to dig into this right now. It will have to wait. I pocket my phone and make my way back out.

But Freddy is staring at his.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“You see this yet?” Freddy passes his phone to me. It’s a press release from Benham State.

“Where’d you get this?” I frown, scanning it quickly. The words aren’t sinking in though.

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