Deathtrap (Crossbreed #3)(25)
Shepherd nodded, feeling Patrick’s sincerity through his touch.
Patrick withdrew his hand. “I know we’re only acquaintances, but if you ever want to talk about what happened, I’m a good listener. I can’t profess to having any skills as a Relic to counsel you, but sometimes it’s cathartic to unload on a person who won’t judge you for it. Otherwise, that pain will eat away at your soul.”
Shepherd’s heavy breath bordered on a laugh. “You’re assuming I still have one.”
Chapter 9
Shortly after surviving the dinner from turtle hell, Shepherd and I accepted Claude’s invitation and headed over to Club Nine to join them. I needed a stiff drink. The sandwiches Patrick served me were fine, but I had a feeling I was going to be having nightmares about all that slurping Shepherd had done with his soup. During dessert, a beep had sounded from beneath the table, and Shepherd noticed his phone was missing. When they lifted the tablecloth to look beneath, the little boy scampered out the door with Shepherd’s phone in hand. I followed behind Patrick and decided chasing the kid would give me an excuse to stretch my legs. Mr. Bane seemed like a nice guy, but the whole dinner scene made me incredibly uncomfortable. Choosing this life meant I was going to have to be more of a social butterfly, like it or not.
And this butterfly needed a shot of tequila.
We searched the club until I spotted Gem’s violet hair in the limbo room. I didn’t care for limbo’s ambiance. Nothing about the color scheme was remotely gold. Yellow lights splashed against the brick walls, and the upholstered furniture was a lemony color that was off-putting in such a dark club.
I approached the table by the wall and took a seat on the yellow stool. “What’s shakin’?”
Claude and Gem sat across from me, plates of food in the center of the table.
“Are you done with that?”
Gem flicked her gaze down to the uneaten sliders and then up to me. “My eyes are bigger than my stomach. You can have the rest if you want, but I thought you two ate already?”
“That’s a long story.”
Shepherd finally swaggered up and spun a chair around before sitting to my left. A cigarette dangled from his lips, and he grinned. “I think I know what I’m cooking on my week in the kitchen.” He drew his arms against his chest and made a paddling motion with his hands.
I bit into the cold burger and moaned. Greasy bacon and beef really hit the spot. Mr. Bane’s sandwiches were good, but most of them had been bread and veggies, the meat shaved so thinly that a gust of wind could have blown it away.
“Good to see that appetite,” Claude said. “You could use some meat on your bones.”
I caught Gem nodding at someone behind me, but she was trying to be discreet about it. I glanced over my shoulder at a waitress in a red shirt who was talking to another girl in a yellow top. The staff here matched their shirt to the rooms they worked, so the girl with the red top stuck out like a sore thumb.
“Find out anything?” Shepherd asked.
Claude propped his elbows on the table. “Dead end.” He took another swig from his beer and set it down.
Shepherd reached out and grabbed the bottle. “You mind?”
Gem’s eyes flicked behind me again. When I peered over my shoulder, the waitress looked at Shepherd and shook her head.
Shepherd guzzled the entire bottle and then stared at it. “What the hell are you lying to me about?”
Claude snatched his bottle away. “Since when did you start reading my emotions?”
He delivered a stony glare. “Since I tasted your beer and felt a fucking lie on my fingertips. What’s going on?”
Gem held her crystal pendant in one hand and shared a look with Claude. “Let’s tell them.”
I took off my coat and let it drape to the floor. “Tell them what?”
Gem fiddled with her hair. “The waitress saw a suspicious guy talking to Jennifer before she was fired, and he had a tattoo on the back of his neck.”
Shepherd’s jaw set. “So you thought I had something to do with this? Jesus. I need something stronger.” He launched to his feet and stalked off.
“Wait! It’s not—” Gem touched her upper lip, a look of uncertainty on her face.
I tugged on my fingerless gloves. The material was thin enough to be comfortable inside. “Did Jennifer know the guy, or was it an ex?”
Gem shrugged and put her hands in her lap. “A waitress said she got in trouble for talking to him a few times and ignoring her customers. She didn’t remember what kind of design was on his neck. Claude and I just thought…”
I laughed. “I’ve seen a dozen guys with tats on the back of their neck, and you go and accuse Shepherd. Maybe we should take our drinks over to the treachery room and finish this conversation.”
“He doesn’t have to be such a grump about it,” she declared. “If someone had described her talking to a girl with violet eyes, I’m sure Shepherd would have suspected me.”
I pushed the plate away, suddenly full. “Well, a neck tattoo narrows it down. Something we can keep an eye out for. If he’s been in here more than once, he might be a regular. Did she remember anything else about him?”
Gem shrugged. “She sees a hundred faces a night; I’m surprised she remembered that much. Alas, we’re back to square one.”