Page 6 of Wild Idol (Tyson Wild Thriller #82)

T he bartender leaned across the counter and studied the image briefly. “No.”

“Where was that photo taken?”

He shrugged again. “Hard to say. Looks like the VIP room.”

“Mind if we take a look?”

“Knock yourself out.”

“Can you tell me who else was present besides Sable?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“So, you know, but you’re not willing to say?”

His face tightened with annoyance. “Like I said, a lot of people come and go. I wasn’t working in VIP that night.

I don’t really remember. I had heard Sable was here and a few other celebs, but I really didn’t pay attention.

Honestly, most of them are entitled assholes.

Some of them tip well, and some of them don’t.

Some of them expect everything for free. ”

JD and I started to walk away. I casually looked over my shoulder and said, “You don’t remember hearing anything about a girl overdosing that night, do you?”

He laughed. “I think that’s something I would remember.”

I handed him a card before we left the bar and walked back to the VIP room.

It was completely separate with its own bar, plenty of couches, and more large pictures of famous celebrities from all eras.

There were pool tables, another small stage, large flatscreen displays, soft lighting, and a stripper pole.

There was even a Jacuzzi for those parties that got really crazy.

I found the spot where the photo had been taken. The couch was pretty identifiable, as well as the image on the wall behind it.

I glanced around the room and tried to get a vibe. But it’s not like these walls were going to talk.

I flagged down a waitress as she passed. “Were you working the night before last?”

“No.”

“Do you know who was working in the VIP room?”

She pointed to the bar. “Talk to Logan.”

He looked bored. It wasn’t busy in this section.

We strode to the bar, and I flashed my badge, hoping to have better luck with this guy. “Were you working the night before last?”

“Yeah. ”

I showed him a picture of Haley and Sable. “You recognize this girl?”

“Yeah, that Sable Fox.”

I gave him a flat look. “No. The other girl.”

He sucked his teeth and shook his head.

“Looks like she was sitting right over there,” I said, pointing.

He just shrugged.

“She was found dead in a dumpster.”

He looked unaffected. “That sucks.”

“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

His face wrinkled. “Why would I?”

This guy wasn’t bothered in the least.

“Look, she was here the night of her death. We’re just trying to put together the pieces.”

“She wasn’t found in the dumpster behind the Pearl Room, was she?”

“No. At Beats.”

“I’m no detective, but isn’t that where you should be looking?”

“Thanks, Sherlock. I hadn’t thought of that.”

He frowned at me.

“I need a list of everyone that was working in this room that night and a list of all the guests.”

He laughed. “We don’t keep a guest list. ”

“Surely you remember some of the more notable people that were here?”

“People like their privacy.”

“This is a criminal investigation,” I said in a demanding voice.

He hesitated a moment, then exhaled. “Sable was here. Brianna was here.”

“Brianna who?”

“I don’t know. That’s just her name. She does that pop/rap thing.”

“Toby Nix was here.”

“The basketball player?”

“Yeah. A bunch of other people. To tell you the truth, I got pretty lit up that night. People were buying me shots. It’s all kind of a blur.”

“What about the waitstaff?”

He thought for a second. “Jessica and Korina were on shift, as I recall.”

“Do you have contact information for them?”

“Yeah.”

I gave him a card and told him to send their info. He did, after some hesitation.

We left the Pearl Room and walked down the boulevard to Beat. The dance club was pretty much dead at this hour. Like Pearl and most other clubs, it didn’t get happening until late. There were a few early birds hanging out at the bar or in cozy booths.

JD and I made our way to the main bar. I flashed my badge and made introductions. “We need to have a few words with you about the dead girl found in the dumpster. We talked to Todd earlier. Is he around?”

“No. He’s not here today.”

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Kyle.”

I showed him the picture of Haley with Sable. “You remember seeing her in here.”

He studied the image for a moment. “No. That’s the girl they found in the dumpster?”

I nodded.

“She’s cute. Was cute.”

“Do you make it a habit of letting underage girls into the club?”

Kyle‘s face tightened. “That’s not my job. Talk to the bouncer.”

“What time does he come on shift?“

“Normally around seven. But look, I’m going to be honest with you. These girls come in here with high-quality fakes, or they use their sister’s ID, or a friend’s. It’s really hard to stop them from getting in. Plus, with the way they look these days, you can’t tell.”

“You could lose your liquor license,” I said .

“I know. And I take it seriously. But it’s a problem that’s been going on since before I was in the business, and it will be happening long after. If anybody comes to the bar and I’m suspicious, I will ask them for an ID. But it gets busy around here. Sometimes, people slip through the cracks.”

I dug into my pocket and handed him a card. “If you hear anything or anything else comes to mind, get in touch.”

He took the card and said he would.

JD and I left the club, but I didn’t expect to hear much. Haley was just another face in the crowd. Nobody cared.

Sunburned tourists strolled the avenue, hopping from bar to bar, catching happy hour specials. The dinner crowd would arrive soon, and after that, the late-night partiers.

It was time for us to get over to the warehouse district for band practice. Wild Fury had a gig coming up at Sonic Temple. The set was tight, but there were a few new songs they wanted to polish up and debut at the next show.

We found the Porsche and headed across the island to the warehouse district.

Jack pulled into the parking lot and found a space near the front.

We hopped out and greeted the usual band of miscreants that loitered out front, smoking cigarettes and drinking beer.

None of them had a job, as far as I could tell, but they always seemed to have money for beer and cigarettes.

There were high fives all around, and they asked about the next show. Of course, we put them on the guest list.

JD and I pushed through the entry doors into the dim hallway that always smelled like weed and stale beer. The sound of the guys jamming spilled into the hallway .

We stepped into the practice space as Styxx banged on his drum set. Dizzy noodled on guitar, and Crash thumped on bass. They worked up a new groove. Something I had never heard before.

It sounded good.

My phone buzzed with a call from Brenda. I swiped the screen and held the device to my ear. “Preliminary toxicology report came back.”