Page 45 of A Breath of Life (Shadowy Solutions #4)
“Bitch, save me. This day won’t fucking end. I’ve had a total of three customers since I opened the door at nine. Three people in five hours. Girl, I have resorted to playing solitaire.”
“Fitting. I have a gambling question.”
“Ugh. Go fish.”
“Does that mean you won’t help me?”
“It means taaalk,” he whined. “I can’t with this day. Watching paint dry would be more exciting. I’m going to start work-drinking soon. These energy drinks aren’t cutting it.”
“Drinking on the job sounds like a good way to get your ass fired. Unless you’re your own boss like Diem, in which case, have at ’er. Can we focus on me now?”
“Yes, you needy bitch. A gambling question. Go. I’m listening.”
“How might one go about finding a… less than legal establishment?”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on, Memph. Don’t play dumb. You know what I mean. The ones that fly under the cops’ radar and are run by, like, the mafia or something.”
Memphis snorted. “You’re so vanilla.”
“Shut up. I’m serious.”
“The mafia? You watch too much TV.”
“I don’t know. Bad guys. People who have questionable morals. More specifically, they seem to have a boner for Edwardian fashion.”
Memphis went quiet.
“Weird, right? I would love to ask them why, but under the circumstances, it wouldn’t be my first question.”
“Is this for a case?”
“Yes.”
“Deets? ”
“No.”
More silence.
“Memphis. Help me.”
“How would I know?”
“You have connections. Lots of connections.”
“Are you calling me a whore?”
“No, babe. I would never. Now think.”
We had both spent the years since college riding the high of party life.
Mostly, we enjoyed clubbing, drinking, and fucking, but my best friend sometimes dabbled in extracurricular activities that I suspected included gambling.
Also, with his penchant to fuck anything with a heartbeat, he was apt to know someone with answers.
“Memph,” I whined when he paused for too long. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“I’m thinking. Let me… call someone.”
“Who? Why? Do I know them?”
“You met him the other day.”
I blanked, searching my memory. Memphis and I hadn’t hung out in two weeks. “Who?”
“Joshua.”
I frowned. “Your jewelry appraiser?”
“Yes. I’ll call you back.”
“Wait. Don’t hang up.” Something told me not to let Memphis make that call. Joshua had seen the card. If he had ties to an illegal club and Memphis mentioned our names, it could be bad. Did he know Ace?
I thought back to our encounter with the jeweler and reexamined the man’s reaction to the card. I couldn’t decide if the guy had been surprised because of its uniqueness or shocked because we possessed it, and he knew where it came from .
He’d definitely reacted.
“Tal, what the fuck?”
“Just… hang on. Why Joshua?” When Memphis didn’t immediately explain, I snapped, “Bitch, explain yourself.”
“Fine. He took me to a place a while back. It was… not above board. I mean, he didn’t say that exactly, but I assumed.”
“Where was this?”
“I can’t remember. We took an Uber from Gas because we were both drunk. I didn’t pay attention. It was a classy joint. Not like anywhere I’d been before. Smoky and dark. Blackjack tables. Drugs galore. Other… enjoyments. It had a feel, you know.”
“A feel?”
“I don’t know. You said Edwardian. It rang old school like that.
The dealers and bartenders were suited in similar garb.
A lot of the people present seemed to be adhering to a dress code.
I didn’t question it. Joshua was paying the tab.
The guy is seriously loaded. His parents own that jewelry store.
Don’t let his position behind the counter fool you.
He’s at the top of the food chain. And, as a side note, he fucks like a dream. ”
Ordinarily, I would show appropriate disgust at Memphis sharing his sex life, but my focus was elsewhere. “How many times have you been there?”
“Just once.”
“What can you remember?”
Memphis made a noise that was a typical whiny tantrum. “Aren’t you listening? I just told you.”
“I need more. Describe everything.”
“There was… low lighting. Sconces on the walls with colored glass. Dark wood. The bar was like an island in the middle of the room. A sw eet, smoky smell hung in the air from cigars. A lot of people were smoking. Soft, unintrusive music.”
“Did you talk to anyone? See anything that stuck out? What was the name of the place? Think, Memphis.”
“Dude, I was swimming in alcohol, and we were only in the main area for a short time.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning we had other things to do. They had… rooms.”
“Oh. Yeah, keep those details to yourself. Do you remember anyone who might have called themselves Ace?”
Memphis stopped speaking, and my heart slammed against my ribs.
I was about to push when the bathroom door opened again. I sucked in a breath, listening wide-eyed as whoever it was stood silently at the door. They didn’t head to the urinals or another stall. They didn’t turn on the water.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Diem had taken too long, and they’d sent someone inside to search for him. I was fucked.
Memphis started talking, and I was certain his voice would travel, so I acted the part of a constipated man taking an especially difficult shit and grunted, hoping it would fool the intruder and shut my friend up. It was not my best acting, but in a pinch, the ruse would hopefully work.
Memphis would not be silenced. “Oh my god. Girlfriend, tell me you didn’t call from the shitter. Dude, we need serious boundaries, and you need fiber.”
I grunted again.
The man at the door moved, not to leave, but to pace along the length of stalls. Fuck my life. His shiny black dress shoes passed by my door. I avoided his line of sight by ducking one way, then the other, so he wouldn’t be able to see me through the cracks.
He paced the other way, stopping near the line of sinks.
“I’m hanging up, bitch. Call me when you’re done.”
The water ran, and I hissed, “Don’t you fucking dare.” With luck, the sound would cover my plea.
“Girl—”
“Shh.”
The water ran for a full minute, then shut off.
Memphis, thank god, knew enough to shut his mouth.
The guy moved to the bathroom door, stopped, and a second later, he was gone. The door clunked in his wake.
“Holy fuck balls,” I whispered. “That was terrifying. Give me a second for my heart to calm down. Also, I have to text my idiot boyfriend and tell him to get the fuck back here before I’m discovered. Do not hang up on me. I need you now more than ever.”
I pulled the phone from my ear and shot Diem a text.
PS. You’d better be almost done. A man came into the bathroom a second ago, and it was not to pee.
It could have been creepy Frank looking for a bathroom blowy, but I doubt it.
Your little adventure needs to end now because I’m a sitting duck.
Signed, not a princess or a damsel in distress, but definitely feeling vulnerable. PSS. I’m still mad at you.
I waited for a beat, not expecting an immediate response but hoping nonetheless. Giving up, I returned to my call with Memphis. Since my random visitor had left my skin crawling, I refused to speak above a whisper.
“Okay. I’m back. The name Ace. Why did you pause?”
Memphis huffed. “Yeah, no. First off, tell me you aren’t going to the bathroom while talking to me. If you are, our friendship is over. I’m serious. ”
“I’m not. Good grief. That’s disgusting. I was acting… poorly, but I was under pressure.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“I may or may not have a guy hunting me down right now, and he may or may not decide to kill me if he finds out Diem isn’t here.”
A pause. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”
I didn’t have time for this. “Memphis! I said the name Ace, and you paused. Why did you pause?”
“Because… I might have met him.”
“You what?”
“I think that was what Joshua called him, but there’s something else. The establishment’s name. It had the word ace in it. Secret Ace or Ace’s Lounge or… Fuck, I don’t—Oh! I’ve got it. The Royal Whispering Ace. It was monogrammed on the napkins and matches.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I can see it clearly now. It had a playing card wearing a crown design on it. I can’t describe it. The logo, you know?”
“And you met him?”
“You could say that.”
“But you can’t remember where they’re located?”
“No.”
“Shit.”
“I can ask Joshua, but… I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.”
“No. Best you don’t.” Not if Joshua knew Ace. My phone buzzed with an incoming text. “Memph, I gotta let you go. Don’t tell anyone about this conversation. Especially Joshua.”
“All right, but are you in danger?”
“No, babe. Nothing like that.”
“So there isn’t someone looking to kill you?”
I laughed. “Nah. Tallus dramatics. Nothing more. ”
The last thing I wanted was to worry my best friend. Memphis seemed satisfied as we got off the phone.
I checked the text, but it was not from Diem. It was my mother with a ridiculous meme she must have thought was funny. I flipped back to the conversation with my boyfriend. My message had been read, but he’d chosen not to respond. Typical.
Frustrated and growing increasingly bored hiding in a bathroom, I texted my cousin. Ever heard of the Royal Whispering Ace?