As I reached the door, a handler came out and held it open for me.
“Thanks,” I said, taking note of her mask. Maybe she had a day job and working in a club like this would get her in trouble.
When I entered the break room, my reflection in the long mirror above the sinks looked like a stranger. The stools were tucked in beneath the counter, and someone had left behind a tube of lipstick. I passed the lockers on the left and headed toward the bathroom door. Instead of going in, I stopped in the alcove on the right and looked at three empty chairs and a telephone. Then I swung the bathroom door open and went inside. Unlike the customer restroom, we had six private stalls and urinals with dividers. I bent over to make sure I had the place to myself.
When I didn’t see any feet beneath the stalls, I ducked into the alcove and plopped into a chair facing the dressing room so I could peer around the privacy wall and keep an eye on the main door. The rotary phone was something I’d seen in old movies, so I had no trouble dialing. It wasn’t uncommon for Breed establishments to have rotary phones, jukeboxes, cigarette machines, and other obsolete relics from the past.
“This is Crawford,” the man answered.
“Hi. It’s Robin. You gave me this number.”
“Robin…”
“I tend bar at the White Owl. Black hair, brown eyes, got in a fight last night.”
“Ah, yes. Robin. Did you consider my offer?”
“Uh, yeah. But what’s the offer for?”
“I don’t do business over the phone. When is a good time we can meet?”
“I get off at three.”
He chuckled. “Yowzer. I sleep, you know.”
“How about noon tomorrow?”
“That works. Why don’t we meet at Ruby’s Diner. Do you know where that is?”
Panic set in. “In the human district?”
“I like my privacy.”
My heart slammed against my rib cage. No way in hell could I walk into Ruby’s and risk the staff calling me by my real name. “That place isn’t as private as you think. Have you heard of Northern Lights? They’re busy at night, but in the daytime, not that many people.”
“I know the place. But a man like me wouldn’t be seen in a bar like that.”
“Do you normally do business in a public place? Seems counterintuitive for a guy who likes his privacy. Anyhow, I don’t have a car, so getting over to the human district isn’t easy. Not unless I take the train.”
“Why don’t I just pick you up now so we can talk? I can be there in half an hour.” He sounded flustered. “We’ll drive around the block, talk it over, and you can go back to work. They do let you have breaks, don’t they?”
“Works for me. I’ll be out front.”
“See you then.”
Just as I hung up, someone walked in. Simone wouldn’t like me taking two breaks back to back, especially during the evening rush. She’d report me to the manager, and rightly so. I couldn’t let my coworkers think I was working undercover—the gossip alone could ruin our mission.
I sprang to my feet and hurried to the door. A woman with Donna Summer hair judged me with her eyes as she bent over the sink and applied pink lipstick.
When I reached Houdini’s office, I knocked. What were the chances he was actually there? Probably slim to none, and I had no other way to reach him. But I needed an alibi, and fast.
I stepped back in surprise when the door opened.
Houdini was about Christian’s height—just a hair over six feet. Nothing about his style gave away his age. The faded jeans might hint toward a younger man, but I knew he was at least a hundred years old.
At least.
“To what do I owe the honor?”
