Indulgence by Liz Crowe Page B

you a freebie.” He clicked his fingers and the
closest woman slinked to his side, eyeing me with delight.
    I eyed her with distaste. I didn’t share and I especially
didn’t share bodily fluids with a hundred other men that had been through her
in the last week.
    “Not. Interested,” I said.
    The woman pouted, sticking her tits out even further. She
obviously liked being treated as an object, the stupid little girl.
    “I’m looking for someone,” I said to the sleazebag, getting
to the point. Holding out the photograph to him, I raised an eyebrow.
    Sammy plucked it from my fingers and peered at the altered
photograph of Alison Crawford. “She’s a pretty one.”
    “Have you seen her before?”
    “Not sure. There was a woman here a few weeks ago looking
for a job. Similar hair, same eyes. Could be her. She was a lot thinner,
though. Bitch wasted my time.”
    I cocked my head to the side. “Wasted your time? How?”
    “Went through the interview, served a couple of drinks, then
just walked out. Never did come back.” He handed the picture back to me and
wrapped an arm around the woman, who was pouting at me with come fuck me eyes.
“She would’ve been a good money maker. Her tits were amazing. And her ass. Fuck
me.”
    I raised an eyebrow. Could be Alison, or it could just be
some woman with a similar look about her. Either way, it was the only lead I
had since flashing her picture in all the dives on both sides of the river. Any
lead was a good lead when I had a Necromancer scythe hanging over my head.
    “She did leave her application here,” Sammy said, knowing
who paid to keep his club running and trouble free. That was a greedy son of a
bitch right there.
    “Do you still have it?”
    He nodded back over his shoulder. “In the office.” Pushing
the woman away, he led me across the club and into a hallway. Storerooms and
offices. He opened a door at the far end and I followed, leaving it ajar behind
me. A row of windows overlooked the street outside, a cream venetian blind that
hadn’t been cleaned in years, covering the glass.
    Sammy cracked open the filing cabinet and slipped out a
piece of paper. “Here you go,” he said. “She didn’t fill it out properly, the
stupid bitch, but that’s all I’ve got.”
    “What’d she do?” he asked as I took the form from him.
    Scanning the application, I snorted. She hadn’t even filled
it out correctly, there was information missing all over the place, but there
was a partial address and that’s all I needed.
    “None of your business,” I snapped, shoving the paper into
my pocket.
    Sammy held up his hands in mock defense. “Hey, just helping
out.”
    “I’ll be sure to mention it to the men who matter,” I said,
holding back the urge to roll my eyes. Men like this, they did themselves no
favors exploiting women, laundering cash, dealing drugs. It was petty, but it
was those kinds of seedy businesses that kept Royal Blood flush with cash. That
and the contracts I carried out for them.
    “CCTV?” I asked, glancing at the computer on the desk.
    “Can’t remember the day she came in.” He sat at the desk,
clicking the mouse and bringing the computer to life. “I can-”
    I held up a hand. “Don’t bother.”
    “You sure? I can get a message to you.”
    “The form is enough.”
    I didn’t have time for that shit. It had already been six
months since the attempted hit on Sykes, and time was slipping away. Alison
could be living in the city under all our noses, or she could be long gone. My
money was on her being in the city, close to her target. Her entire family had
been brutally murdered and that had to cut deep. If I were her, I’d regroup and
plan a second attempt in greater detail. A foolproof plan to get what I wanted.
    Without another word, I spun on my heel and left the office,
weaving through the dark club, avoiding the stripper from before. There was
something I needed to sate and it wasn’t