“That’s pretty barebones.”
“My schedule’s a little crazy right now.”
“Got it,” he replied.
“Have you seen Deb?” Slash asked.
“Not tonight. Seasoned dancers don’t work Sundays, unless their regulars come in.”
Jilly appeared beside Slash.
“Hey, Jilly,” Bradley said. “Sunday’s not your normal night.”
“Deb’s roommate was looking for her, so I thought I’d check here,” Jilly said.
“Yeah, I was telling Slash I haven’t seen her.” Bradley tossed a nod toward a group of guys. “I gotta take care of the customers.” Bradley moved on.
“What did Karen say?” Slash asked.
“No help.”
“Does Deb have family in the area?”
“No.”
“Did you check with other dancers?” Slash asked.
“A few girls saw her last night, but not today.”
Striking out, they left the club.
In the parking lot, Slash suggested she call Deb’s roommate. Jilly put the call on speaker.
“Hey, Jilly,” the roommate answered. “Did you find her?”
“She’s not at the club.”
“I’m kinda freaking out here,” said the roommate.
“Hey,” Slash said. “I’m Slash, a friend of Jilly’s. You need to file a missing person’s report. Where do you live?”
“Arlington,” the roommate replied.
“Call your local police station,” Slash instructed. “They’ll take the information and they might send an officer over.”
“This isn’t like her,” the roommate’s voice broke. “I’m scared for her.”
“What’s Deb’s last name?” Slash asked.
“Weaver,” the roommate replied. “Deb Weaver.”
Slash knew that the first twenty-four hours were critical with missing persons.
“Do you want me to come over?” Jilly asked.
“Please,” the roommate replied.
“Be over soon.” Jilly hung up, regarded Slash. “Sorry to run.”
“Hopefully Deb will turn up.”
After Jilly took off, Slash climbed into her vehicle. As she pulled out of the parking lot, she made a call.
“Hey,” Carrera answered. “I’m glad you called.”
“I need your help,” she replied.
