I follow his lead and my entire face contorts as the stuff slides down my throat. Never been a fan of vodka. “He’s dead.”
“Ah, I heard something like that. A waste.”
The enormous man with a similar belly in the chair on the other side of Viktor nods.
“And what are you here for? Do you think I have done, bike mouse?”
I raise my eyebrow. Bike mouse? Really?
“No, we were wondering if you heard anything within the mob scene.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not mafia, Young. I’m businessman. I’ve heard nothing. How am I supposed to know? Businessmen don’t talk about killing.”
Brooks interferes. “Mr. Koslov, with all due respect, everyone here knows you have connections with the Bratva.” He leans toward the Russian. “There’s nothing wrong with that and we have no intention of interfering with those connections, if you know what I mean. We’re just asking if you’ve got some info.”
“No. I don’t. Bratva doesn’t. Like I said, Connor good boy.” Viktor nods and strokes his hand over his beard.
“He worked for Nick Vanderberg?” I attempt.
The Russian bursts out laughing. “Vanderberg? Never any good. Too bad.” He shrugs. “Guys, I don’t have any information for you. Maybe Billy See Kid?”
Brooks folds his hands together. “Billy The Kid?”
Vigo nods. “At Onyx. Owner is Billy Reed. He’s in touch with Nick Vanderberg’s number-one guy.” He wiggles his glass back and forth. “Our hands are tied. We don’t monitor anyone without cause after contract termination.”
“I see.” I get up from the chair. “Thanks.” I extend my hand to Viktor again and nod. “If you’re ever looking for information, you’re more than welcome to ask.”
The man does shake my hand this time. “Sorry about your friend.”
Standing outside Club V, I look at the building next door. There’s a neon sign on the façade of a dancing woman, with the wordOnyxunderneath. Competition. Enough reason to go inside and see exactly what it is. I nudge Brooks against his shoulder and nod at the sign. “Shall we check out the competition?”
“We can.” A goofy grin appears on his face. “Call me curious.”
Brooks takes a drag from his cigarette as I observe the customers entering. About ten minutes later, we step into a darkclub with round, black tables. Two red velour chairs sit at each table. The chairs face the stage, which has three different poles, and around the middle one a busty blond dances in a bright-red thong. On the side of the room there are similar tables, but benches surround these. The visitors are similar to our clubs. They range from bachelor parties to scruffy old men with big beer bellies. I respect women who do this kind of work. Usually they’re treated like trash, but to stand there on a stage with these men in front of you, all with lust-filled eyes… that shit takes confidence and willpower.
I walk to the bar, and Brooks follows me steadily. He looks at the guests, and I sense his disapproval. I poke his side. “Knock it off,” I spit.
“I know we make money from clubs like this as well, but look at these guys.” With his thumb and forefinger, he rubs the stubble on his chin.
I raise two fingers at the bartender, who nods. “I don’t know about this place, but at ours all the women work and can quit whenever they want.”
“I know. But look at the customers.” He nods to a guy with greasy hair and a thick cigar in his mouth who’s almost drooling at what he sees.
Grinning, I accept the beers from the bartender and hand him a twenty-dollar bill. “Ah, the charm of a strip club.” The grin remains on my face until two burly men approach us.
Brooks stiffens slightly. You’d never guess it if you didn’t know him, but he’s on high alert right now. Guns will be drawn at the slightest provocation.
I look up from my beer into the first man’s face. “Good day, gentlemen. Can I help you?” I hand Brooks’ glass to him and bring my own to my lips to take a sip.
“Mr. Reed wants to see you.” The security guard’s voice is surprisingly high for such a bear of a man.
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “Mr. Reed? I suppose it’s quite the honor?”
Brooks rolls his eyes, giving me a dirty look.
“This way.” With a nod toward a back table, I follow the man. I slide onto the couch with my beer and Brooks does the same.
“Gentlemen." A man who looks eerily like Leo from theLethal Weaponmovies nods at us.
