Author's note: Thanks to all who have read and reviewed. I love feedback! Special thanks to Royalty09 for her pointers on this chapter.
Chapter 26
Joe Reisert, Cynthia and Jay stood in front of the Lounge Lizard's Club and were having an animated discussion.
"No, this must be it." Cynthia pointed at the sign. "I swear, when Keefe took out the file and arranged the papers, there was a protocol and it mentioned them going to a Lizard Lounge or something on the first night."
Joe Reisert shook his head in disbelief. "Cynthia, the paper was upside down, how can you be so sure?"
"Please," she snorted, "if I had to wait for the customers to finish reading out their booking confirmations at the counter every time, it would take twice as long."
Jay nodded. "That's true, Joe, it's one of her talents."
Giving him a thankful look for his support, Cynthia went on. "We have checked the yellow pages and apart from this club there is nothing else with a similar name except for the kiddie center at the local reptilian museum and a pet store. This must be it!"
Lisa's father paced up and down, deep in thoughts. "We checked with the papers, the safehouse is far away …"
"But that's exactly the point, don't you see?" Jay chewed on his lower lip. "This guy does nothing without good reason. We know he's handsome and he can be charming if need be, so if it was just fun or … company he was after, he could have gone to the friendly neighborhood pub around the corner."
Cynthia grew animated. "He didn't, though, he came all the way out here. Why?"
"Why bring Lisa along?" Joe still wasn't sold on the idea.
"I don't know, Joe." Absentmindedly, Jay massaged the sore muscles in his neck. "But there was more than one attacker on the night TC got kidnapped, so Rippner must have contacted someone somewhere along the line. Why not here? Loud music, many people, a seemingly harmless chat and bang! Instant conspiracy."
Cynthia grabbed Lisa's father by the arm, pulling him gently towards the entrance. "Come on, it's worth a shot."
Loud music filled their ears when they walked to the bar. It was a Wednesday night, but still, the club was pretty much bursting at the seams. The three made their rounds, each equipped with a headshot of Lisa, but no one could remember the girl in the photo. They even got to talk to the manager, who squirmed and hawed until he admit that he had, in fact, already been questioned by 'the police', but unfortunately, had to tell them the same thing: no, he had never seen Lisa Reisert in his life. He also asked them not to mention the club to reporters.
Their hopes shattered, Joe, Cynthia and Jay strolled back to their rental car.
"Well, at least we know they were here." Cynthia shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket, fingers toying with the picture of her friend.
Jay shrugged. "Should we go back to Keefe and confront him?"
"I don't think that's such a good idea at the time." Joe Reisert rubbed the bridge of his nose and ground his teeth at the memory of their last encounter. Keefe and Whitley had shown them Lisa's email answer, impertinent enough to ask whether his daughter might perhaps show signs of 'Stockholm Syndrome'. Needless to say, things had gotten a little heated.
"Let's go back to the hotel and sleep on it." He gave a humorless laugh – as if he could sleep at all – and took a deep breath, looking at their surroundings clearly for the first time since they had left the manager's office. Joe heard footsteps behind them and turned his head.
It was the pretty blonde bartender from the club who gave him a small smile before she crossed the street to the bus stop.
----------
Lisa awoke at dawn, restless and nervous. She got up and started doing her exercises, noticing the equipment Jackson had bought her neatly lined up by the mattress. Her neck hurt like hell, sore and tender from Forbish's brutal treatment. Never in her life had Lisa been so grateful for blacking out.
She warmed up carefully and then spent a good hour doing the heavy duty training her father had shown her – push ups, sit ups, weights and rope skipping. When Lisa heard Jackson take a shower, she slowly finished up her routine by stretching.
"Bath's all yours, Leese."
She enjoyed the splash of warm water on her skin and Lisa felt rejuvenated and prepared to face the world. The terrors of the past day were still very much with her, but they didn't dominate her anymore and she dared to doubt they ever would.
Jackson stood by the counter drinking his coffee and gave her a strange glance. "Your fan club has been busy."
"What?"
"Your father and friends showed up at the club last night, asking all kinds of questions." He sounded less than enthused.
Love tugged at her heartstrings. "You're kidding."
"No. Apparently, Keefe didn't tell them, but they found out anyway." Jackson refilled his mug. "We need to take precautions."
"What are you talking about!"
"I can't let them run around meddling with my … our business. One wrong word into the wrong ear will absolutely kill us, Leese. They have to stop immediately."
Lisa tensed up, prepared to fight. "What are you suggesting?"
"Easy there, Ms. Temper, I'm working on it." Jackson was unfazed. "Sit down and eat, first and foremost I want to know what happened between you and Forbish."
Lisa took a deep breath and told him. Jackson didn't interrupt her once; he was scribbling away furiously on a piece of paper, murmuring an acknowledgement every now and then. At the end, she leaned back with a shudder and a sigh, grateful it was over.
"It's not over yet, Leese, focus. So when he asked you …"
The second round consisted of Jackson grilling her about the questions and her answers and about miniscule details like facial expressions or moves. Lisa noticed he had previously left a lot of space between the lines of his notes that he was now filling out with the extra information. Jackson forced her through the event almost frame by frame and by the time he appeared to be finally satisfied, Lisa was about to start crying. Three hours had gone by in a rush and left her completely drained.
She slumped over onto the counter. "Are we done?"
"With this chapter of our exciting lives, yes. There's more to come at 2, remember?"
A faint feeling of nausea settled in the pit of her stomach and Lisa pushed the remains of her breakfast aside with a moan. "Who is it?"
"A possible client or rather, his representative." Jackson put her plate in the sink.
"Have you worked with the guy before?"
The raised brows translated his disapproval perfectly and he didn't reply.
Lisa rolled her eyes. "Let me rephrase: anything you can tell me about him that'll make it easier for me to be plausible?"
Jackson beamed a satisfied grin and for a moment, Lisa had to fight the overpowering urge to wipe it off with a punch. It must have shown on her face as he tilted his head and tutted. "Definitely no talking today, not even pleading for help." Jackson's voice was as taunting as ever and it maddened her. For every step forward, they seemed to take two steps back. "Zip it and follow my every command, our visitor expects me to be in absolute and irrevocable control over you. Got that?"
She hissed a yes - matching his acerbity with ease - and got up.
Jackson grabbed her by the arm, holding her back with an iron grip. "Good." At the sight of her clenched jaw, he let her go and put up his hands in something like an apology. "The next guy is dangerous. He will judge every single word to come out of your mouth, so just be extra careful. You know I can't help you during these meetings, but -"
"Yeah, I noticed that. Where were you when Forbish almost killed me?"
"I was waiting in the other room."
"How heroic." She couldn't quite hide the bitterness.
Jackson paused, regarding her intently. When he continued, the mocking tone was gone. "Anything else would have given us away, Leese, and we'd be dead now. If it's any consolation, he didn't treat me any better."
"What did he do to you?"
"The same. Asking me all kinds of strange questions, accusing me to lie, physical violence ..." He turned around, busying himself with the dishes. "You did okay with Forbish. Don't muck it up now."