Page 31 of Blood and Bonbons

“Miles could be in there. We need to go inside.” Vena opened the door and was out of the car before I could stop her.

“Shit.” I swung into the lot and parked. Hurrying after her, I said, “You have sixty seconds. Then we have to leave. I mean it, Vena.”

“Yeah. Sixty seconds.”

That didn’t sound promising.

Vena opened the old wooden door, and music assaulted my ears with the club’s version of dance music as she stepped into the dark club.

I followed, hoping this club was of the flashing boob variety and not the pick-up-dollars-with-genitals variety. Thankfully, a large man wearing a tight black t-shirt stood right inside the door and stopped us from going further.

Perfect. We could ask him a few questions then leave. No need to see more.

He eyed us up and down. “You got IDs?”

Vena took out her driver’s license.

“Not that ID,” he said before she could hand it to him.

“Then what ID?”

“If you don’t know, you don’t have it.”

“How can I get one?” she asked.

“You don’t.” He stepped forward. “Get out.”

“What kind of place needs a special ID?” she asked.

“The kind that is private,” he said.

Vena stood her ground even though the bouncer took a menacing step closer.

“Who owns this place?” Vena asked.

“None of your business. Get out before I toss you out.”

When Vena fisted her hand, I pulled her toward the door.

“We’ll leave,” I said quickly. “We don’t want any trouble.”

The minute we were outside, Vena jerked her arm from my hold.

“No,” I said firmly. “You don’t get to be angry with me. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking about Miles,” she said in a harsh whisper as we headed to the car.

“And I’m thinking about both of you. The coordinates could be nothing. Or it could be related. We don’t know at this point. You going in there like an enraged troll won’t help us learn anything. And who’s going to help me find Miles when you’re in the hospital with a broken face? Or better yet, who will save us if we go missing too?”

I opened my door and slid in behind the wheel.

“You need to be smarter about this, Vena,” I said as soon as she sat and closed her door.

“Miles has been missing for at least ten hours.” The torment in her voice was almost my undoing.

“He’ll be fine,” I said as I pulled into traffic. “He’s smart and knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t take unnecessary risks. He’ll probably show up tomorrow or the day after with a story about being charmed into spilling everything he knows about a treasure hoard.

“We need to keep it together, Vena. We need to think and focus on what we can control. You’re the one always telling me that, and you’re right. Now you need to do it. Just in case Miles doesn’t show up, let’s stay focused on our other leads, which is that shriveled ballsack you’re probably still carrying around.”

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