Page 2 of Enforcing the Rules

There were three trucks and a handful of cars. We parked in front, backing our tires to the walk, shut our bikes down, and climbed off.

Both of us glanced around.

Tiny, the bouncer, was missing from the front door as we walked inside.

A bar ran along the right wall with a stage and tables on the left.

Memphis and I strode along the barstools.

I lifted my chin to the bartender, a girl named Kitty, and shouted over the driving dance beat. “Where’s Tiny?”

She nodded toward the back.

I didn’t like the fact he wasn’t up front providing protection to the dancer on stage or the two girls out on the floor giving lap dances.

One good thing, the smattering of midday customers seemed unfazed, so whatever had happened with Night Train, must have happened in the back of house where the office and dressing room were located.

Memphis and I headed down the hall. I knew he’d have my back no matter what situation we encountered.

Our broad shoulders barely cleared the walls of the tight hallway. The first door we came to was the dressing room. It was open, and I saw one girl sitting before a mirror applying makeup. She paused with a lipstick an inch from her mouth to look over at us.

“’Bout time you boys showed up.”

She didn’t say more, and we kept moving.

I rounded a corner at the end of the hall and came up short, Memphis almost slamming into my back. Tiny was mopping a large bloody pool on the floor. I didn’t know if it was Night Train’s blood or his dog’s.

“Holy fuck.”

Tiny glanced over his shoulder. “Damn. You scared the shit out of me.”

Trixie poked her head out of the office door, eyeing us. “Get in here. You, too, Tiny.” She was a middle-aged woman with bleached blonde hair piled on her head, and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth.

She sat behind a big desk, and with the four of us crowded in, that took up most of the space.

“What the fuck happened?” I growled.

“We got robbed. That’s what.” The cigarette bobbed between her red lips, and she flung her hand toward the open safe.

“Who?” I knew what Night Train had said, but I wanted to hear what Trixie would say.

“Your tax man.” She took a long drag on the cigarette, then stubbed the lipstick-stained butt out in an ashtray. “He came in here asking for some paperwork. I’d already given him everything, so that had my suspicions up, but he said he needed some more receipts. While I was lookin’ for ‘em, he pulled a knife and told me to open the safe. I did what he said, and he cleaned it out.”

“How much did he get?” Memphis asked.

“All last night’s take. I hadn’t gotten it to the bank yet.”

She looked nervous. “Trix.”

“Okay, and the night before. Friday and Saturday’s take.”

“How much, Trix?” I snapped.

“We had a really good weekend. Friday, the traveling All-Stars competed for Best of the West trophy. The prize was twenty grand. Saturday, Gigi was the headliner. We always do well when she comes to town.”

I wasn’t interested in who was dancing, though she wasn’t lying about Gigi.

“How much money did he take, Trixie?”

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