Chapter 7 #2
“Unfortunately,” she said, “I don’t know anything about Scotch, but I can ask Rudy if he’s got anything better back there.”
Mateo went on scowling and trying not to stare at those tits. They were, quite simply, magnificent. Donovan gave her another charming smile.
“We appreciate it, Miss …”
“Melody,” she said with another smile.
“Thanks, Melody. I’m Jack, and this is Mateo.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Y’all from around here?”
“I am,” Donovan told her. “My uncle here is visiting from out of town.”
That, finally, got an outward reaction from Mateo.
His head whipped toward Donovan hard and fast, while the younger man simply burst out laughing.
He didn’t know why having his age pointed out bothered him just now.
Letting his gaze move over Melody again, he estimated that she must be about ten years his junior.
She was probably older than Donovan, but still closer to the young agent’s age than Mateo was.
“I am not,” he seethed, “this prick’s uncle.”
Melody giggled, collecting his tumbler and Donovan’s empty beer bottle. “Hang tight. I’ll be right back.”
Mateo had a hell of a time keeping himself from watching her walk away.
“She was checking you out,” Donovan said once she was out of earshot. “You’re insane if you didn’t notice.”
He had noticed. For the short moment Mateo had looked into Melody’s eyes, he had seen it. Curiosity. Intrigue. Attraction.
“This is work,” he reminded Donovan.
“Doesn’t mean you can’t mix business with pleasure.”
“Is that what you do? Fuck every piece of pussy that comes across you while you’re on a case?”
Donovan shrugged, not the slightest bit affected by Mateo’s sour mood. “Never anyone actually connected to a case. But clubs are fair game. You ought to ask for her number or something. Could be a nice distraction while you’re in town.”
Mateo refused to respond, unwilling to consider that idea for more than five seconds. It had only been a few days since the woman from the app, and a session like that was usually enough to last him for months. Besides, he didn’t want the waitress, no matter how gorgeous she was. He didn’t.
Melody returned, placing the beer and the shot in front of Donovan.
Then, she rounded the table, reaching over Mateo’s shoulder to set a fresh tumbler in front of him.
His senses were assaulted by a scent he couldn’t quite place.
He only knew it came from her. Her hair or her skin.
Some kind of perfume or oil. He made out vanilla and musk mixed with something spicy before she pulled her arm back.
“Rudy said this was the best he has. Something called Aberfeldy 12.”
Mateo lifted the glass and sniffed at its contents before taking a wary sip. It wasn’t the best Scotch he’d ever had, but it was smooth and far better than the crap he’d first been served.
“It’s good,” he said, finally looking her in the eye. It was the least he could do after she’d gone out of her way to find him a decent Scotch. “Thank Rudy for me?”
She smiled at him. A real smile that showed teeth. His stomach gave a violent lurch, followed by a twist.
“I will. Oh, and this round’s on the house. Our apologies for the bad Scotch. Wave me down if y’all need anything!”
She disappeared, leaving the air to Mateo’s right cold.
Or maybe it wasn’t the air. It was him, coming down from what felt dangerously like a boiling point.
He breathed a sigh of relief as the heat began to fade the moment she was out of sight.
He wasn’t usually so easily distracted while on the job, and was annoyed with himself for reacting as if he’d never seen a nice ass or pair of pretty legs before.
“I think we got something,” Donovan said.
Mateo followed his gaze to the group of men making their way to the VIP section. Four burly guys trailed them, and he had seen enough like them to know they were the muscle. He and Donovan looked on as the men slid into one of the VIP areas, spreading out on the plush couches.
“Isn’t that our friend, Suede?”
Mateo narrowed his eyes, taking a slow sip of his Scotch while watching the three men.
He spotted Tariq Hayes, aka Suede, right off.
Over the neckline of his shirt was the neck tattoo he’d noticed from the mugshot.
He sat on a black leather couch while his companions spread out into the matching armchairs.
Donovan retrieved his phone and held it like he was reading something. Mateo watched him adjust his angle and zoom in with a swift motion, before snapping one photo and then another.
“I’ll get these to Darcy right now. If their faces are in any of her databases, we can identify them. They definitely don’t look like the types of guys Suede would willingly hang out with.”
Donovan was right. Both men were white, and one of them looked like he might have at least twenty years on Suede.
He was bald with a gray goatee and a hardened face.
Their third companion was a compact man with a blond crew cut, giving him the look of a military man.
They were as much a mismatched set as any Mateo had ever seen.
Mateo watched them, wondering what they discussed in their own little corner of the club. If their faces could be believed, this was business, not pleasure.
“You were right about these guys,” Donovan added. “Barely here five minutes, and they’re already popping bottles.”
Melody and two other waitresses approached the booth with champagne bottles and glass flutes.
She smiled and chatted with the men much the same way she had with him and Donovan.
But then, the other waitresses left, and before Melody could follow suit, the bald man reached out to grab her arm, pulling her onto the couch beside him.
She flopped onto the cushions with a laugh, then turned to say something to Suede.
He looked her up and down with an exaggerated sweep of his head, then gestured toward her while consulting the man with the blond hair.
The two nodded as if agreeing that she looked incredible.
She didn’t look uneasy, like a waitress who was just doing her job being hit on. She looked comfortable.
Mateo scowled. “She knows them.”
“I don’t know. If Darcy can be believed, guys like them hang out here all the time. Maybe they’re some of her regulars.”
Mateo shook his head, narrowing his eyes as the blond man took one of her braids between his fingers and gave it a little tug. Suede offered her a glass of champagne, and she accepted it before leaning in to toast with all three of them. Conversation went on as if she hadn’t just interrupted them.
“They look too cozy,” Mateo argued. “Look, they’re talking business right in front of her.”
“Okay, let’s say she is involved. She’s waiting tables at a club for fuck’s sake. I doubt she’s high enough in the hierarchy to do us any good. We should focus on whatever intel Darcy can gather on those other two men.”
Donovan’s words made sense, but something intrusive niggled the back of Mateo’s mind.
It bothered him with the same urgency that had led him to crack several difficult and high-profile cases.
His instincts had almost never failed him.
Really, they had failed him only once, overshadowed by his own arrogance.
But he couldn’t dwell on that now, or he’d fall apart in front of Donovan, and that was the last thing he needed.
Instead, he retrieved his phone and snapped a photo of Melody as covertly as he could manage. Darcy could look into her as easily as the men, and help appease this premonition that nothing was what it seemed.