Read Online Blood Dahlia - A Thriller (Sarah King Mysteries) by Victor Methos - Free Book Online
Authors: Victor Methos
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Pink’s clearly wasn’t open yet , but Rosen peered through one of the darkened windows. “I see people inside.” He pounded on one of the heavy metal side doors and then paced while he waited.
Giovanni leaned back on a railing along the side of the building, probably the remnants of some fence. It was times like these he wished he still smoked. Not for the buzz, but just for the action. Something to fill the dull moments between events. He’d had to kick the habit to keep the fitness requirements for the Bureau, and Mickey had told him it didn’t look professional. He said it could give people the impression that you didn’t have control over yourself. Giovanni didn’t know if that was true, but he stopped smoking anyway.
A large man in a tight T-shirt that looked as if it might split at any second appeared at the door, eyeing them suspiciously. Rather than speaking, Rosen just showed him his badge. The man’s eyes changed, along with his facial expression. Filled for a moment with anger, and then fear. Bars and clubs dreaded law enforcement more than anything. One or two vice busts, along with the enormous administrative fines, and a single weekend could mean the difference between staying open and filing for bankruptcy.
“How can I help you?” he said in a deep voice that reminded Giovanni of Barry White.
“We were hoping we could speak to Sarah King if she’s here.”
“Nah, tonight’s her night off. My manager Trevor’s here, though.”
“No, it’s not about bar business. I have her home address. We’ll try there. Thanks. Oh, how about a drink?”
“Now?”
“Sure, if it’s not too much trouble.”
The bouncer hesitated a moment and then nodded. He held the door open for them, and Giovanni followed Rosen into the dark. The bar was large, with two separate dance floors and serving counters separated by a single door in a wall made of glass, presumably so each half of the bar could see the other. Stairs led up to the second floor and a balcony where people could stare down at everyone else. Velvet furniture was thrown around randomly, and a massive mirror behind the bar took up almost the entire wall. Rosen leaned against the bar and said, “How ’bout a Coors?”
The bouncer said, “Sure.” He took a bottle from underneath the bar and placed it in front of Rosen before popping the top off.
“Nothing for me,” Giovanni said. “Thanks.”
The bouncer nodded and stepped away. Far enough that, Giovanni knew, he could still hear what they were saying.
“You sure?” Rosen said.
“I’m good.” He turned around, facing the dance floor. “I remember coming to places like this,” Giovanni said. “Back when I was outta high school. My friends and I would try to pick up girls and take them home for the night. We struck out probably ninety-nine percent of the time, but man, that one percent made up for it.”
“You still go out?”
“No. I don’t like how loud it is.”
Rosen nodded. “I was married at nineteen. Never got to experience the single life.” He scanned the bar. “But I tell you, things have seriously changed. This is all anonymous and dark. It used to be about meeting new people and having good conversations.” He drained his beer in a few gulps and laid a five on the bar. “Ready?”
“Yup.”
They headed out, and Rosen threw him the keys. “You drive.”
“Where we headed?”
“Just two miles up the road. She likes to live near where she works apparently.”
Giovanni pulled away and into traffic. It seemed like there was a stoplight on every corner, and even though they were traveling only a couple of miles, it took nearly twenty minutes. Giovanni let his mind drift rather than focusing on the traffic. One car cut him off and then tried to swerve into the next lane over and nearly got clipped.
“It’s that one,” Rosen said , ignoring the near accident.
The apartment building was rectangular and brown, nothing special or out of the
Pink’s clearly wasn’t open yet , but Rosen peered through one of the darkened windows. “I see people inside.” He pounded on one of the heavy metal side doors and then paced while he waited.
Giovanni leaned back on a railing along the side of the building, probably the remnants of some fence. It was times like these he wished he still smoked. Not for the buzz, but just for the action. Something to fill the dull moments between events. He’d had to kick the habit to keep the fitness requirements for the Bureau, and Mickey had told him it didn’t look professional. He said it could give people the impression that you didn’t have control over yourself. Giovanni didn’t know if that was true, but he stopped smoking anyway.
A large man in a tight T-shirt that looked as if it might split at any second appeared at the door, eyeing them suspiciously. Rather than speaking, Rosen just showed him his badge. The man’s eyes changed, along with his facial expression. Filled for a moment with anger, and then fear. Bars and clubs dreaded law enforcement more than anything. One or two vice busts, along with the enormous administrative fines, and a single weekend could mean the difference between staying open and filing for bankruptcy.
“How can I help you?” he said in a deep voice that reminded Giovanni of Barry White.
“We were hoping we could speak to Sarah King if she’s here.”
“Nah, tonight’s her night off. My manager Trevor’s here, though.”
“No, it’s not about bar business. I have her home address. We’ll try there. Thanks. Oh, how about a drink?”
“Now?”
“Sure, if it’s not too much trouble.”
The bouncer hesitated a moment and then nodded. He held the door open for them, and Giovanni followed Rosen into the dark. The bar was large, with two separate dance floors and serving counters separated by a single door in a wall made of glass, presumably so each half of the bar could see the other. Stairs led up to the second floor and a balcony where people could stare down at everyone else. Velvet furniture was thrown around randomly, and a massive mirror behind the bar took up almost the entire wall. Rosen leaned against the bar and said, “How ’bout a Coors?”
The bouncer said, “Sure.” He took a bottle from underneath the bar and placed it in front of Rosen before popping the top off.
“Nothing for me,” Giovanni said. “Thanks.”
The bouncer nodded and stepped away. Far enough that, Giovanni knew, he could still hear what they were saying.
“You sure?” Rosen said.
“I’m good.” He turned around, facing the dance floor. “I remember coming to places like this,” Giovanni said. “Back when I was outta high school. My friends and I would try to pick up girls and take them home for the night. We struck out probably ninety-nine percent of the time, but man, that one percent made up for it.”
“You still go out?”
“No. I don’t like how loud it is.”
Rosen nodded. “I was married at nineteen. Never got to experience the single life.” He scanned the bar. “But I tell you, things have seriously changed. This is all anonymous and dark. It used to be about meeting new people and having good conversations.” He drained his beer in a few gulps and laid a five on the bar. “Ready?”
“Yup.”
They headed out, and Rosen threw him the keys. “You drive.”
“Where we headed?”
“Just two miles up the road. She likes to live near where she works apparently.”
Giovanni pulled away and into traffic. It seemed like there was a stoplight on every corner, and even though they were traveling only a couple of miles, it took nearly twenty minutes. Giovanni let his mind drift rather than focusing on the traffic. One car cut him off and then tried to swerve into the next lane over and nearly got clipped.
“It’s that one,” Rosen said , ignoring the near accident.
The apartment building was rectangular and brown, nothing special or out of the
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