She pictured Caine’s Hollywood smile, could see why he was chosen for this gig. She tried to channel him, tried to think what he’d done to make it up to the Ceiling, but figured he was probably just his handsome self and made others flock to his flame. But she wasn’t Caine. She tended to shut people out, not draw them in, so she was going to have to either change her manner or find her own way inside.
Bronte nudged her elbow. She’d had her cop face on again. She brightened and held up her empty glass to him seductively. He smiled, took it then headed to the bar.
Bronte, it turned out, was the first to make friends. He was at the bar getting drinks when he started chatting to two women, overdressed for the club, if that were possible, looking like perhaps they should be in some kind of ballroom instead. They spoke for a while, before he motioned over to Salvi, smiled and waved. Salvi returned the smile and wave. Next thing she knew, Bronte was bringing the women over to sit with them.
Unfortunately, it turned out they were tourists from Montana, so unlikely to be leads in this case. Still, they drank with them, they laughed, and Salvi even encouraged Bronte to get the two women up dancing. She sat back, fighting hard to contain her amusement as she watched the women sandwiching him on the floor.
And it was then that Salvi noticed someone staring at her.
She turned to see a man sitting alone in a booth. He didn’t try to hide that he’d been watching her. He looked to be late 40s, his long gray hair tied back in a ponytail, black synthetic jacket shining in the lights. He raised his drink to her, so she raised hers back. She played it cool, though, moving her eyes back to the dance floor and around at the other patrons. Every now and then, though, she glanced back to the man in the booth. Their eyes would connect, and she did her best to make hers inviting.
Of course, with her glowing green dress she stood out in the darkness between the flashing lights. Still, the way he kept looking at her, Salvi knew he wasn’t drawn to her dress.
After a while the man stood and began to approach her. He was maybe 5’10, with a medium build that weighed maybe 175lbs. She waited patiently, but then… he walked straight past her toward one of the security guards standing in front of red velvet curtain in the back corner of the club. The man flashed his card, the security scanned it then stepped aside and pulled back the curtain. Salvi saw stairs ascending to the next floor. The man glanced back at Salvi, purposely, then began to ascend the stairs and the curtain fell back down, blocking her view.
Bronte suddenly slumped beside her on their couch, panting and sweating a little. She saw the two women disappearing into the bathroom together.
“We need to leave or I am not making it out of here,” Bronte said, pointing to where the two women disappeared. “They’re going to eat me alive.”
Salvi laughed. “You’re doing good, making us look the part.”
“Hey, if I was a single man, I’d take a hit for the team, you know what I’m saying? But I don’t think my girlfriend would like that.”
“You have a girlfriend? Since when?”
“It’s new,” he smiled, before it fell away and he sighed. “I’m not sure it’s going to survive this case, though. What am I supposed to say? No, baby, I can’t see you tonight because I gotta go clubbing and get my freak on with strange women all night.”
“Yeah, that’s a tough one, but if you explain why we’re doing this…”
Both their faces fell at the thought of Caine again. Bronte shook his head.
“No, I think that’ll make it worse,” he said solemnly. “I gotta whore it up with random women and I might get killed. Yeah, she’ll see me as a real catch.”
“You could always tell Ford you’re not up for this.”
Bronte looked at her. “Are you kidding? Hell, no! We are gonna find who killed him and we are going to take that motherfucker down.”
Salvi suddenly pressed her hand across his mouth, trying to make it look seductive. “We shouldn’t talk about that here.”
She removed her hand, and Bronte nodded. “Yeah. Shit.”
They looked over and saw the two women were making their way back over to them with smiles on their faces as they whispered to each other.
“Oh, shit,” Bronte muttered through a fake smile directed back at them. “I am in trouble.”
“You’re doing good,” Salvi said, patting him on the arm.
When Salvi realized the Montana ladies were planning on taking Bronte home, she helped him do a swift vanishing act. While one was at the bar and the other was in the bathroom, she took Bronte onto the now crowded dancefloor, then used the people as cover to shimmy their way to the door and disappear outside.
“Freedom!” Bronte called out, as they hit the dawn air.
Salvi smiled, switched the lights in her dress off and pulled at his arm. “Let’s get something to eat.”
They found a Cafevend a couple of blocks down and decided to eat there. The franchise had been spreading like wildfire recently. In some ways it was a no-brainer. With no human staff, only robots, it could safely stay open 24 hours. Customers simply ordered what they wanted from the large vending machine against the wall – a series of glass boxes showing the meals on offer – and the robots would set about making what was ordered. The robots themselves were behind shatterproof glass, along with the food, so they were never under threat
