Page 47 of Wyoming Mountain Murder

The place reeked of sleazy desperation.

Feeling like a fish out of water, Charlie didn’t want it to show. She went to the bar, ordered a rum and Coke. Paid in cash with a generous tip. She didn’t intend to drink much, only a sip here and there, in case anyone was watching her. Tonight, she needed all her senses firing at high speed, not dulled by alcohol.

She swept the place with her gaze. Little red lights from security cameras blinked in the corners of the club. Behind the bar was a long mirror. That would enable her to look around and see everyone, much like the bouncers, but subtly.

The night was young. The later it got, the more bodies would funnel inside. The harder it would be to find Seth and see what was going on.

For a minute or two, she watched the ladies onstage strut and dance and spin on the pole all while donning sky-high heels.

Charlie could barely walk in the pair she had on. It was beyond her how those women were able to manage acrobatics in stilts without face-planting.

Her cheeks burned again with renewed anger. The only reason she’d packed the heels and this dress was because she was staying with Brian. Their night together at the charity gala had been hard to forget. Part of her wanted to re-create it in some way. Maybe they’d have dinner. Light some candles. Instead of wearing her usual garb of a T-shirt, sports bra, workout leggings and sneakers—all of which did not scream come hither—she’d put on something feminine and skimpy.

Charlie huffed a breath. Who was she fooling? Her plan had been to seduce him. Little did she realize how hard that would be.

If only she could reconcile the things about him that didn’t make sense. Why not sleep with her when he had the chance if he didn’t care about her?

Maybe he was playing both sides. Appeasing her and protecting Seth.

Taking a sip of the drink, she banished Brian Bradshaw, his handsome face and hot bare chest from her thoughts. She looked around the bar in the mirror.

Where was Seth?

His truck was here.

Aubrey came out of a room off to the side, wearing dental floss and heels. She sashayed across the room, wending in between tables, over to a booth in the corner.

From this end of the bar, Charlie couldn’t see much. She picked up her glass and moseyed down to the other side. On the way, she watched the girls dancing. She was hoping to blend in. Not act out of the ordinary for a woman in the club alone. Although she was the only one at the moment. After a stripper did an impressive full side split, Charlie raised her drink up to her. The dancer waved in return.

She slid onto a stool and looked up at the mirror.

In the corner booth, Seth sat with two men. One she’d seen before. The guy with wire-rimmed glasses at the gym. The third man wasn’t familiar. She would’ve remembered the long dark hair and the scar on his cheek that ran from his ear to his mouth. His demeanor was a stark contrast to the guy with glasses. Scarface had a certain deadness about the eyes, a readiness to his posture—all that told her to be wary of him. The men weren’t really paying attention to any of the girls. Except for Aubrey.

The redhead tried to cozy up to Scarface, but Seth shooed her away.

Charlie slipped her cell phone from her purse. She brought up the camera app. Extending her arms and hoisting the phone high, she smiled, pretending to take a selfie while getting Seth’s table into the pics.

With the poor lighting and lack of flash, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to make out their faces in the shots.

A bouncer approached. “Hey, miss, no photographs allowed. It’s a misdemeanor to take a pic of a stripper in any state of undress.”

She wanted to tell him that no dancers had been in the photo, but she didn’t think that’d help her. “I’m sorry,” she said, changing her voice, making it more high-pitched. “Silly me.” She put the phone back in her purse and sipped the drink.

Aubrey sauntered up to the bar. “Juan, get me my usual. Put it on Seth’s tab.”

“Sure thing.” Juan poured two shots of vodka in a glass with ice. Filled the rest with soda water and added a squeeze of lemon. “Here you go.” The bartender handed her the drink and moved down the bar to take another order.

Aubrey gave Charlie the side-eye. “What brings you in tonight?”

“You do.”

“Is that right?” Aubrey asked, glancing around. “You got a boyfriend or husband here with you?”

“Nope.” Charlie shook her head. “All by my lonesome. Want to keep me company?”

Aubrey smiled and stepped closer. “We don’t get many ladies in here alone. With their fella, sure. In a big gaggle wearing veils and plastic penises on their heads, sure. But alone?” The woman scrutinized her under a laser-eyed gaze. “Not so much.”

Possible that was true around here. But Charlie was ready with a story. A toss-up between her being into girls herself. Or she was a stripper at a club in Cheyenne who was scoping out a new place to work.

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