“I keep a record of complaints.” Mavis typed a few keystrokes. “Nope, nothing.”
“Did you know Parker was convicted of stalking his ex-girlfriend?”
“I’m sure I did.” Mavis tapped on the keyboard again. “Yup, it’s here on his application.”
“You weren’t concerned about hiring a stalker or someone who doesn’t understand the word no?”
“I wouldn’t have hired him if I thought he’d be trouble. Newbies are on a sixty-day probation period. He got through that no problem. He needed a job. I needed a mixologist.”
Another dead end.
“Thanks for your help.” Emerson rose.
“I’ll be around for a few if you need me,” Stryker said to Mavis.
They left Mavis’s office and headed down the hallway. “Elevator or stairs?” he asked.
“Elevator.”
Once in his office, she glanced over at him. The knot between his brows was deeper than normal.
“What’s going on with you?” she asked.
Exasperation rolled off him in angry waves. “More shit, different day.”
“Talk to me.”
He did not. Instead, he fired up the computers.
“I’m not working until you tell me what’s wrong.”
“We’re short on time and the list is long.” He turned toward the console, typed in his password.
She knewexactlywhat he needed to help ease his frustration.
He pulled up what they’d been working on last week. “We got hits on Blondie. He was here a couple of weeks ago, Tuesday night.”
They watched the video of Blondie entering the club. Instead of holding up his phone so the hostess could scan his QR code, he whispered in her ear, then slipped her something.
“Did you see that?” Stryker asked.
“I sure did.”
“He paid her to get in.”
“Are you going to speak with her?”
“Not yet,” Stryker replied. “If she tells him, we lose him.”
Blondie sat at the bar, ordered a glass of wine, and camped out there. Over the course of the evening, he talked to several women, danced with three, and walked one gal out at the end of the night.
“She fits his profile,” Emerson said. “She’s got long, dark hair.”
The two chatted at her car. Before she left, he handed her a business card. Stryker zeroed in on the woman’s face and pulled up IDware. While the program searched for a match, Emerson asked him to print out screen shots of Blondie talking to her.
Bing!
Match found
