Page 63 of Zero Divergence
The owner had taken an empty warehouse and converted it to a multi-level club with ceilings so high in the main section that actual planes hung suspended from the metal rafters. The Alley Cat had sported a large stage and gilded cages with dancers inside them, but The Cockpit topped it by a country mile. The stage was constructed to look like a giant airplane wing, and above it, male dancers wearing angel wings and silver G-strings gyrated to the loud music on platforms above the crowd.
Beside him, Sawyer laughed. Royce knew he was gawking like an idiot, but he’d never seen anything quite like it. “The fog machines adds a nice touch, right? It makes them look like they’re dancing on clouds.”
Royce nodded. “This is like Elton John meets the Air Force museum.” Then he began singing lines from “Bennie and the Jets.” He turned and looked at his boyfriend. “What level of gayness is this? How many points do I earn?” He tipped his head to the side. “Wait? Do I have to bang a waiter here to earn points?”
One such waiter stopped and smiled at Royce. He wore the uniform Sawyer had perfectly described down to the tiny shorts. “Hell, yes. I’ll stamp your scorecard, baby.”
“Fuck no,” Sawyer growled. “Move along.” Sawyer pulled Royce into his arms. “Knock it off with the gayness challenge crap, although you’d win bonus points for the Elton John reference if we were keeping score. There’s no wrong or right way to be gay or bi or anything else. I want you to experience all the things you’ve denied yourself, but I selfishly don’t want them to include anyone except me.”
Sawyer pressed his lips to Royce’s, making him forget they were only there to confirm or disprove Blakemore’s alibi. Royce’s pulse pounded to the beat of the music, and he tightened his grip on Sawyer, deepening the kiss until catcalls and whistles pierced the air around them. It didn’t matter that they both wore their badges and shoulder holsters, or even that they were on duty. Royce recognized this space as a safe zone where they didn’t have to worry about who was watching them. Even without the pretty eye candy every-fucking-where, he could see the appeal of places like this. Royce just hoped they could find a place where there wasn’t so much techno music.
He reluctantly broke the kiss and smiled at Sawyer. “You’re the only person I want, GB.” Royce waggled his brow. “And I accept.”
Sawyer’s brow furrowed, and he blinked repeatedly. “You accept what?”
Royce’s face hurt from smiling so broadly. “Your offer to wear this uniform for me. Oh, maybe when you serve me poolside drinks.” Royce looked around some more. “This place is so over-the-top. It surely has a souvenir shop. Don’t think we’re leaving here with only a coffee cup.”
Sawyer tilted his head back and laughed. “Maybe a shot glass too if you’re a good boy.”
“I’malwaysgood.”
Sawyer took a deep breath, and Royce knew his mind had leaped ahead in time to when they were home alone. Then Sawyer nodded toward the bar where men dressed in flight suits opened to their navels filled drink orders and flirted with patrons. “Let’s get started.”
The two bartenders they needed to speak to, Drew and Brett, were both working. They approached them individually, so they wouldn’t influence one another’s answers. Both men were all smiles until they noticed Sawyer’s and Royce’s badges.
“No way I served an underage person,” Dave said defensively. “I always ask for IDs.”
“Relax,” Sawyer said. “We’re not here about that.”
“Oh,” the guy said, “okay, then. What do you want?”
“Do you know Kendall Blakemore?”
Dave snorted. “Everyone knows Sugar.” Sugar, huh? With the kid’s white-blond hair, Royce could see it.
“Did you work with him this weekend?” Sawyer asked.
“Yeah, all three nights,” Dave said. When Royce and Sawyer drilled down deeper, Dave insisted nothing unusual had occurred. “I don’t remember any weird absences,” the bartender told them.
“How can you be sure?” Royce countered. “This place is way busier on a Monday evening than I expected, so it must be wall-to-wall thrashing bodies on the weekends.”
“Sugar is one of our most popular waiters,” Dave replied. “If he disappeared for much longer than his dinner break, then I would remember it.”
The other bartender had a much different tale to share. “Yeah, Kendall was gone a lot this weekend,” Brett informed them, contradicting Dave’s account. This was one of the reasons why eyewitnesses were so unreliable.
“Describe a lot,” Sawyer told him.
“Kendall was late getting back from dinner all three nights,” Brett replied with a casual shrug.
“How can you be sure?” Royce asked him.
“We took our dinner break the same time each of those nights,” the bartender said. “Kendall told me he’d met a hottie here Friday night, and the guy kept returning.”
“You think he hooked up with the guy during dinner?” Sawyer asked.
“He didn’t brag about it or anything because Kendall is private about most things. It’s the impression I had anyway.” Brett nodded to the far-right corner of the club. “See that emergency exit sign?” Sawyer and Royce glanced over, then nodded. “Go through the door, and it will lead to some offices, our locker rooms, and storage. The second door on the left is where you’ll find Erik. He was the manager on duty most of the weekend. Maybe he can confirm when Kendall swiped in and out.”
Sawyer slapped a hand on the metal bar top. “Thanks, man.”