Where are you?
Getting ready for work. I picked up an afternoon shift.
The coffee shop?
No.
Jamie paused.Did Tyler have another job?
“I’ve got to run,” Jamie said, standing up and jogging over to the sink to rinse his mug.
Sharpie just looked amused. “Thank goodness. I am so busy, as you can see.”
Jamie dried his hands on a towel and walked back to his captain, pulling him up from the couch and wrapping him in a hug. “Love you, Sharpie. Thanks for keeping my head straight.”
Sharpie clapped his back. “Ah, Sully, there is no straightening out your head.”
“What?”
“You are gay, Jamie. Very gay.”
Snorting, Jamie withdrew. “I don’t miss you at all.”
“No?” Sharpie grinned. “Then stop showing up at my house.”
“Pain in the ass.”
“Man-child.”
Jamie shut the door behind him, bracing himself against the wind as he ran to his truck.
Tyler had given him an address for a strip club.
It was out on the west side of town past Middleton. Jamie never had a reason to go out that way, and had to consult his phone as he pulled into a large parking lot surrounding a moderate-sized commercial building with tan siding.
He knew he was in the right place when he saw Tyler’s old Subaru parked in the back corner.
Jamie approached the front doors, frowning up at the driftwood sign, which read:THE BLUE BARN.
A well-built man in a black t-shirt stood in the sparse entryway. “ID,” he barked in a low voice.
On autopilot, Jamie fished his license from his pocket, handing it over.
The man looked surprised. “Oh, shit, man! You really are Jamie Sullivan.”
“Hi,” Jamie said, not entirely sure what he was doing there.
“How’s the hand?” The man leaned over to look at Jamie’s hand, like maybe he couldseethe state of his injury. “You feeling good?”
Jamie offered him a smile. “Yeah, feeling really good.”
“So stoked to have you here, man. Head on back. No cover for the afternoon, and thirty-five bucks for a dance until six.”
It took Jamie’s eyes a moment to adjust to the dim room. A high ceiling. Low lighting tinted red and pink. A bar along one wall, shelves of bottles glinting behind it. Low tables, cushioned chairs, and a round stage.
He took a deep breath, forcing his hands to relax.
So. Tyler worked in a strip club.
