Author's Note:
We are back to Spencer's POV and this chapter runs in tandem with the previous chapter from Ashley's perspective. This chapter is the longest so far. Hope you enjoy it!
... ...
"Director, in the past 2 weeks we've expanded our list of known associates and compiled a list of possible next targets. I admit progress has been slower than we'd like but we're-" Sean is stopped mid-sentence by the director holding up her hand.
"I'd like to hear from someone else on your team, Agent Miller." Director Mars drops her hand and takes a seat in the front. "Agent Carlin, please fill me in on your progress."
Oh, no. I was expecting a debrief, not a status report. I'm not prepared for a status report. I shift uncomfortably at the front of the room.
"Yesterday was my first," I start, but no that's not right. "I made contact," I start again. Shit, Shit, Shit. "I think," I begin again but am cut off by Sean.
He stands from his desk, his body leaning in toward Director Mars, "All due respect, Director. this is why I still believe it would be better for a field agent to be placed inside FADE." He says in a low voice. "Spencer is a brilliant profiler, but she's not trained for covert operations." He speaks louder, including everyone in the conversation.
My jaw clenches and I feel my fingernails dig into my palm. Sean and I went to the same High School. We were never really close, he was Clay's friend, but he was always around. Family BBQ's, parties, camping trips, he was there right by Clay's side. They were even roommates for a while during college. I was surprised when I ran into Sean in Virginia, turned out we were both there for orientation at Quantico. We graduated from the same class and I only really saw him again in passing. It wasn't until Clay…
"Is Agent Miller right in thinking you are in over your head, Carlin?" Director Mars' question snaps me out of my thoughts.
I unclench my fist and take a deep breath, an emotional reaction will only prove Sean right. "No, actually he couldn't be more wrong." I walk over to my desk and grab a folder, I can feel everyone's eyes on me as I approach the whiteboard.
"For the past two weeks while we've surveilled Davies there have been no elaborate robberies in Los Angeles. We've had a few smash and grabs, a failed bank attempt, and what looked like a drug deal gone wrong but nothing fitting Davies MO in LA or the surrounding area. We've been working under the assumption she's preparing for her next job, but if we step away from that assumption there is another way of looking at this." I take some photos out of the folder and clip them to the board.
"Why would we do that? The whole point of surveillance is to find her next target so we can either prevent the robbery or catch them in the act." Sean chuckles condescendingly, "We know she's been casing places," He adds.
"Davies has visited four museums, two banks, two jewelry stores, three high end-shops on Rodeo, a BMW car dealership, and a guitar shop. three of these places have been marked high priority by Agent Miller but it's less likely these are possible targets and more likely Davies knows she's being followed and has been having fun dragging us all over the city."
I pause for a moment and look around the room, Director Mars has shifted in her chair but her body language is open which tells me I still have her attention. Agent Patel is leaning in so I know she's listening as well.
"That's your opinion. We have no reason to believe Davies knows she's being surveilled." Agent Carter says from his desk. Good, he's listening too.
Since I have everyone's attention I continue, "Actually I have good reason to believe she does know. These are photos from prior investigations into Davies, some are from the bureau, others belong to LAPD. There are dozens of them but the constant other than Davies herself are these two, Madison Duarte and Aiden Dennison. They're in almost every photo. However, since this team started their surveillance Davies hasn't been seen with Duarte or Dennison in public once. She's purposefully isolating herself, probably learning from past mistakes." I explain.
"You said 'in public' You think she's meeting them behind closed doors?" Patel asks.
"I know it. I saw the three of them together last night at FADE they have a VIP section to themselves."
A hush falls over the room, "Why does this seem like a surprise to the rest of you? Did you not follow Davies to the nightclub last night?" Director Mars questions.
"Uh, we can't. LAPD has denied every request I've submitted for us to get near the place." Sean answers, hanging his head.
Doesn't feel too good in the hot seat, huh?
"LAPD hasn't officially closed the case of the nightclub shooting. Which means we have to run our surveillance requests of the club through them. The only reason we were able to get me into FADE without telling them is that I'm a live asset and-"
"Telling them about you would increase the number of people read in, and put your life at risk. Yes, I understand." Director Mars stands from her seat. "Agent Carlin, Do you believe we should pull the surveillance on Davies?"
"Wait a minute, Spencer's," Agent Carter starts but corrects himself. "Agent Carlin hasn't even been under a full 48 hours. She can't make that call!" He stands waving his arms like a referee calling for a time-out.
"And she isn't, she's simply giving me her opinion, which I asked for. When I want your opinion I'll ask for it." Director Mars points to Carter's chair, telling him to sit back down.
I look around the room again. Sean is avoiding eye contact and Carter has his arms folded and head down like a toddler who's just been scolded. Patel and Director Mars are looking at me, waiting.
"Every investigation into Davies has been shut down due to lack of evidence, the trail eventually runs cold and there are no new leads so the teams are forced to shut down. She's waiting us out." I say confidently. "I was brought on board because Davies isn't our average thief. Her ability to pull off some of the highest profile heists we've seen on the West Coast, combined with how long she's managed to evade us and not have to hide has made her mythical in some circles, and she's leveraged that status to unite the underground scene under her. She's not just a power player, she's the power player. If we're going to take her down I need to get closer, and I can't do that if she knows we're watching her."
What feels like minutes pass before the Director speaks, "I'm inclined to agree." She gives me an approving nod. "Besides, we can't afford to waste any more hours, pull back slowly so it appears we've decided to end our investigation. If Davies does know we've been following her, hopefully, this gets her to let her guard down." Mars directs her attention to Carter.
"Understood. Agent Patel and I will begin rolling back surveillance tonight." He nods, seemingly having shaken off his reprimand from a moment ago.
Agent Carter may be a bit smug, he might even be sexist, but he wants to catch the bad guys, and that we can agree on. Agent Patel nods.
"Agent Miller, you should have done this already, but convene with the LAPD and find out why they haven't closed the nightclub shooting case. I don't want us stepping on each other's investigations. It's not just messy with Agent Carlin inside, it's dangerous." Director Mars says harshly.
Sean's eyes dart up at me. This is his team and I've undermined him. I would feel bad about it but he did try to throw me under the bus. If he had things his way I'd be back in the basement working on profiles.
Director Mars heads toward the door, "I came in here today ready to shut you down. Agent Carlin is the only reason you're not all packing up boxes and going back to your departments. Your team requested our best profiler, you have her and she's proven herself useful. I'm giving you one week to turn this investigation around."
Everyone except Sean lets out an audible sigh as soon as the door closes behind Director Mars. One week to get something promising. Even with things going as smoothly as they are with Kyla, with only a week, I would have to really press her hard for information about Ashley. Information I'm not even sure she has. That's not going to be enough, I have to pull on every thread…Carmen! Kyla mentioned she knew Ashley, maybe there's something there. If I'm being honest, I wouldn't mind seeing her again.
"Erin, can you do a deep dive on the Nuevo Laredo Cantina? specifically the owner, first name Carmen." I ask Agent Patel, the boss is gone now, no need to keep things overly formal.
"Yeah, give me a few hours I'll get you a full write-up. What are you hoping to find?" She asks, grabbing her jacket off the back of her chair.
"She's close with the sister, Kyla, and has some connection to Davies. I'm not sure what but given our limited time, we should run down even the smallest connections."
"My ass is pretty sore from that reaming, but do you need anything from me?" Carter pulls a face as if he's been injured.
I laugh at his antics, "I persuaded Kyla out of running a background check, but just in case someone else decides to look into me we need to make sure they can't find anything."
"Got it, I'll get with the tech guys now," Carter follows Erin out of the room.
The sound of a hard slam surprises me, Sean has dropped a heavy folder onto his desk. "What the fuck was that?" He raises his voice. "This is my team, you don't give orders!"
"I just saved this team!" I match his tone, our eyes locking.
"You just cut us off at the knees, there's no way we're getting anything worthwhile in a week." He comes out from behind his desk.
"I cut us off at the knees? You didn't think I could get inside the club but I did! and instead of admitting that we're closer now than we were before you try to get me kicked off the assignment by telling the Director I'm not ready." I close the gap between us.
"You aren't ready, and undermining me to our boss makes that clear!" Sean yells in my face.
"You didn't give me a choice throwing me under the bus like that," I don't move an inch, Sean doesn't intimidate me. "I thought us working together to bring down Clay's killer would be a good thing." Mentioning Clay's name makes my skin hot, it feels like my blood is boiling. "Don't make yourself an obstacle."
"Is that a threat?" Sean asks, a confused expression crossing his face. His voice is no longer angry. "I know I came at you pretty hot but we're on the same side." Sean takes a step back so he's not in my face.
My phone rings dampening the tension between us. I pull it out of my pocket to see a text from Kyla.
Bianca called out she said she can't find anyone to babysit.
You can have her shift tonight 11p-4a
Let me know if you want it, if not I'll ask someone else.
I text her back immediately, I'll be there
Adding you to the schedule now. She responds.
"It looks like I'm working tonight. Kyla just texted asking me to come in." I hold up my phone, "Tell Erin to send me that write-up when she's finished." I tell Sean before leaving.
... ...
My apartment is dark when I get home. The sun has gone down so there's no natural light coming through the windows. It's quiet too. I throw my bag on the floor near the door and walk over to the refrigerator. My head is pounding. My thoughts drift back to Sean, I left him and his ego standing alone in the office. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and hold it against my head.
"You have one week to turn this investigation around." Director Mars' words replay in my head.
What if he's right? What if I don't have the experience needed to pull this off? No, at this point that's not an option. Sean can't be right because I need answers. My family needs answers. Clay was gunned down in the middle of a club, his body trampled over, and the LAPD chalks it up to gang violence. Clay's never been in a gang. Multiple witnesses came forward saying they saw Ashley Davies pull the trigger, but nothing came of it, it was never pursued. My brother's murder went cold while I wasted away in the basement of the FBI Los Angeles office providing profiles for cases that were "more important".
My phone rings and then buzzes in my pocket. It's a text from Erin.
Thanks for the advice today, I spoke to Greg and we're on the same page now.
It's best practice during an op to keep all communication inconspicuous. Greg is Carter's first name, us being on the same page means he's finished cleaning up my online presence with the FBI techs. I hold down the message and see there's a file attached. It's my deep dive on Carmen. That was quick. Hopefully, Sean is moving with the same urgency. If we can get the LAPD to close their case or at least allow us to set up surveillance inside the club. It would be the first step in possibly getting a bug into the VIP room, if I can do that maybe we can get something useful.
I set the bottle of water down and open it, hopping up onto the counter. Ok Carmen, who are you? And how do you know Ashley Davies?
The first section of the report is background. Carmen Ortiz, born and raised in California, something I already know from our conversation during my lunch with Kyla earlier. Her mother, Cynthia Marin married her father, Manuel Ortiz and they had three children Carmen and her two brothers, Luis and Manuel Jr. Cynthia left the kids with their father and moved to Arizona when Carmen was 8. She's now a nurse. She waited until Carmen's father died to remarry, she and her current husband have 5 children together. Doesn't look like Carmen has any contact with her mother at all. Whatever the circumstances, it can't feel good to lose one parent and have the other one leave. I'm used to delving into people's personal lives, trying to find patterns and predict behaviors, but this is beginning to feel like an invasion of privacy. I scan over the rest of Carmen's upbringing, I just need to know her connection to Kyla and Ashley, and here it is, King High.
The same high school Ashley, Madison, and Aiden all went to. Kyla transferred there too. So that's how you all met. What about now? There's no mention of Carmen in any of the previous investigations into Ashley, she has no criminal record as an adult but there is something…a sealed juvenile record from, of course, high school. It seems Erin tried to have it unsealed and her request was denied, understandably. It could be anything from shoplifting to murder, no judge is going to unseal a juvenile record without a damn good reason.
I see Erin has flagged something more recent in Carmen's report, and I skip ahead. It's a LAPD case file for a double homicide in Oakland five years ago, victims were brutally killed inside their car. Their throats had been slashed and they were stabbed several times. The victims were identified at the county morgue by their sister Carmen Ortiz as her older brothers Luis and Manuel Ortiz. LAPD had no witnesses, no leads, and no suspects. Three months later they closed the case, citing….gang violence.
My stomach turns going through the crime scene photos. There's so much blood. I hope Carmen never had to see these. Clay's crime scene photos come to mind, his body, his face. This can't keep happening. I close the file and delete the attachment. I'm not stuck in the basement anymore. I can put an end to all of this.
Jumping down from the counter, I look at the time. 9:13 pm If I'm going to do anything it starts with me getting to work on time. I walk to the bathroom and turn the shower on, while the water is heating up I can decide on what to wear. I pull out a black bandage dress and hold it to my body in the mirror. It's perfect for FADE, slim fitting, and hugs my body perfectly. I hang the dress in the bathroom while I shower, the steam will get any wrinkles out of the dress and help relieve the headache I've had since leaving the office. Two in one.
Once I have the dress on, I decide to put my hair up in a kind of curled ponytail. FBI Agent Spencer doesn't fuss over her hair, but bottle girl Spencer can afford to spend some extra time on it. For makeup, I settle on a bold smokey eye and nude lipstick. I add a pair of silver dangling earrings and a few matching bracelets for finishing touches. I give myself a once-over in the mirror.
"Damn," I say softly to myself. I have to admit, dressing up feels good.
I don't have a nice enough jacket to compliment the outfit so I go without. I peek my head out of the closet to check the time, 10:22. I needed to leave 22 minutes ago. I pick up my keys and phone from the kitchen counter, and as I'm heading out of the door I grab my purse from the floor.
When I'm in the elevator my phone buzzes. Did Erin find something else? I open it to see a new text message but not from Erin. It's Sean.
Need a ride to work? I'm downstairs.
I sigh heavily. I don't have time for this.
When I exit the building I look around. There's a dark blue Honda at the of the street, that I've never seen before. I get closer and the headlights start flashing. Sean. I open the passenger door and get in.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I look at him and ask. He's in plain clothes, a pair of jeans and a grey shirt. "You shouldn't be approaching me in public." I remind him.
"We're not in public." He motions around the car. "I needed to apologize for earlier. I was wrong for getting in your face like that. We both want the same thing and I need to start acting like it." He says pensively.
I stare at him in disbelief, he's looking at me like a sad puppy. He just doesn't get it.
"You thought the best time to apologize was to approach me during an undercover op, putting both of our lives at risk? Davies has eyes all over the city, what if someone sees us? You're going to drive me to work like what, some overprotective boyfriend? What if someone recognizes you?" I question him.
Sean puts the car in drive and starts to pull away from the curb. Clearly ignoring my concerns.
"You've been careful so far, and I was careful coming here. The car is a friend of a friend's and people are being dropped off in front of the club all night long. No one will look twice, and if they do, tell them you got a ride tonight. No one will question it."
"No. You drop me off two blocks away from the club. This is already risky I'm not letting you drop me off at the front door." I counter.
"Fine, but I didn't just come here to apologize we need to talk." Sean looks me over curiously, "You look great. Really gettin' into character," He turns his eyes back to the road.
"Thank you," My reply is curt. "What do we need to talk about?"
"I didn't want you undercover. I stand by what I said about it being a job for a field agent with covert training, because of that I've been uncooperative in coming up with a strategy and next steps. That needs to change if we're going to keep this investigation open."
Uncooperative? That's an understatement. Sean has been my biggest hurdle since I joined the team. I feel anger rising inside my body, but I push it down. Being at odds with Sean is not going to help anything.
"Kyla has me working as a bottle girl in VIP, that's how I was able to see Davies and her inner circle meeting last night. They're one of the VIP rooms I service. I was thinking if we can get LAPD and a judge to sign off on it, I can get a bug into the room. We can hear what they're talking about when they think no one is listening." I tell him what I have so far.
"I meet with LAPD Commander Roylin Shea on Monday. I'll find out why they haven't closed Clay's case yet, and I'll ask about surveillance. It's a good idea but it will take more than a week. We need something now to get the Director off our backs."
I hate to admit it but Sean's right. I feel my dress sliding up and use my hand to pull it back down. Sean notices.
"I can't remember the last time I saw you in a dress, or anything other than a pantsuit and lanyard." He laughs.
"I can't go in there asking everyone a million questions, they'll know something is up." I keep us on the topic at hand.
"You really do look great, Spencer." Sean compliments again. What is it about men? Now is not the time. Besides, Sean knows I like women. "Maybe you should lean into it." He adds.
He can't be suggesting what I think he is, "I'm not going to flirt with Ashley Davies." I say firmly.
"We only have a week, Spencer. One week. If we get Mars to stop talking about shutting us down then we can play the long game, gather intel, and dismantle Davies so her foothold on the city is no more but in order to do that we need something fast." He pushes. I can tell by the neighborhood we're approaching the club.
"Stop the car,"
"Spencer, we're talking."
"Stop the fucking car!" I bang my fist against the dashboard. The anger I pushed down rising up again. I can feel it under my skin, in my chest, in my throat.
Sean pulls the car over, we're just one street away from the club.
"She killed my brother. You know it, I know it, she's a monster. I'm not doing it." I open the car door.
"Fine. Play the friendship angle with the sister, we'll see what that gets us. If Mars shuts us down it'll be your fault." Sean grabs my arm hard yanking it back to keep me from leaving.
I wince but he doesn't let go.
"Clay's funeral," I say, watching his face twist up in confusion. "The last time you saw me in a dress was Clay's funeral." Sean's grip loosens and I pull my arm away. I can't get out of the car fast enough, slamming the door behind me.
It feels chiller than it was when I left my apartment. I walk briskly up the street toward FADE, the blue Honda speeding off alongside me. I'll get what I need to keep this investigation open, but I'm not going to do it by seducing Ashley Davies.
I turn the corner into the alley along the side of the club and knock on the employee entrance door. Wes opens it.
"Hey Spencer, didn't know you were working tonight," he says standing aside so I can enter the club.
"Spencer, huh? I'm not blondie anymore?" I smile.
Wes grins, giving me a small shrug. We talked a bit last night and he's actually a really sweet guy. You would never know it by the way he treats the customers but he's completely different with the staff, especially the girls.
"I'm covering for Bianca. Is Kyla at the bar?"
"No, she just radioed she was going to her office. She should still be there." Wes tells me.
The club isn't completely packed yet, but I can see the bouncers at the front still letting people in. I go up the steps to the hall that leads to Kyla's office, next to her office is the supply room, and across from that is the employee bathroom. There are two other rooms at the end of the hall that I haven't gotten a chance to see yet. I knock on the door.
"It's open" Kyla calls out.
"Hey, I just wanted to let you know I was here before I clocked in." I walk inside.
Kyla looks up from her laptop and stares at me for a moment, "Damn."
That's the same thing I said, a shy smile crosses my face.
"I didn't overdo it, did I?" I ask, smoothing out not existent wrinkles in my dress.
Kyla comes from around her desk and looks me up and down, similarly to how she did last night before I began working. "Not at all. You look amazing."
"Thank you," I say sincerely, compliments from women are so much better than compliments from men.
"I mean really I'm kicking myself right now that I'm not wired that way. If I was I'd-"
"Kyla." I stop her.
"You're right that's inappropriate." Kyla seals her lips with her fingers.
I laugh at the brunette. I realized during our drive to Carmen's restaurant and our lunch that she's really funny.
Kyla laughs with me, "Buuuut," she drags the word out while reaching into her desk for a small piece of folded paper. "While I'm being inappropriate, I did want to give you this." She hands it to me. "It's Carmen's phone number, she asked me to give it to you in case you wanted to schedule that private tasting she offered," Kyla emphasizes the double-meaning words.
"I don't know," I hold the paper in my hand. There was a spark between Carmen and me, no denying that but maybe I should wait until the case is over. "Now might not be the right time for me to start something new," I explain.
"Carmen's been through a lot," Kyla walks over to the small bar cart near her desk. "My sister put her through a lot both when we were younger, and again a few years back, but Carmen stood up to her, she got away from the madness." She pours herself a drink. "She's stronger than me in that way. I'm still trying to get Ashley's hooks out of me." Kyla throws back her drink, something clearly weighing heavy on her.
The trouble Carmen got into during High School that earned her a juvenile record, that was because of Ashley. The connection between her brothers and Clay's murders being written off by the LAPD as gang violence without thorough investigation is tenuous. Gang stabbings are very common in that area. If it was Ashley who killed Carmen's brothers, maybe I can get us both justice. Maybe Kyla can be free too.
"I'll call her," I tell Kyla, tucking the phone number in my bra.
"Sorry to barge in but there's some trouble at the door," A slim guy wearing a black shirt and black jeans rushes into the office. "Wes has been trying to get you on the walkie," There's still a lot of staff I haven't met yet, he must be one of the bartenders.
Kyla's eyes dart over to her desk. "Fuck, I must have turned it off. What's happening?" She grabs the walkie from her desk.
"A fight between customers, one of the guys is claiming Wes broke his nose breaking them up. He's threatening to sue."
Kyla hurries out of the office and down the hall, I follow behind her. We can see the commotion from the top of the stairs. Wes is holding two guys apart, one of them wearing a blood-stained white shirt.
"Spencer, head to VIP it's a busy night over there. I'll take care of this." Kyla has to yell over the music but I hear her. We go our separate ways, Kyla down the steps, and me toward VIP.
She wasn't exaggerating about it being busy. All the rooms are reserved. VIP 1 has the curtain drawn with a plaque on the outside reading 'Do Not Disturb', it's the only VIP room with that feature. None of the other rooms have privacy curtains. There's a newly drafted LA Rams player in VIP 2, he and his friends look like they're having a big night. They order 15 bottles, a mixture of tequilas, vodkas, and rums, along with some mixers. It's more than enough alcohol for themselves and the girls they've invited to the balcony. I make sure to congratulate the new defensive tackle, he's young, humble, and maybe even a little shy unlike some of his friends.
He reminds me a bit of Glen when he played basketball in high school. Glen called a lot when Clay first died, but it was just too hard. He wanted to reminisce about Clay and all the memories we had but I wasn't at that stage in my grief yet. I stopped answering the phone and eventually, Glen stopped calling. I shouldn't have cut him off like that, we both lost a brother.
There's a guy standing on the couch in VIP 3. He looks mid to late 30s, definitely too old to be dancing on couches in the club.
"About time! We been dying of thirst," He says as soon as he sees me. He struggles to balance himself as he steps down off the couch. I look around the balcony and see two other guys and four girls. All grinding on each other off-beat. I think everyone here is well lubricated but I take his order anyways.
"What can I get for you?" I smile at him.
"Two bottles of McCallan 30 year double cask. and a bottle of 1942." He orders our most expensive bottles. "Oh and two bottles of Aurora Crystal Head for the ladies." He adds on.
"Would you like any food with that?" I ask.
"You guys got onion rings?" One of the other guys yells over.
"No." I feign disappointment, "Take a look at the menu and I'll take your food order when I come back with your bottles." I grab a QR code menu off the table and leave it with the ringleader.
I'm heading back to VIP 1 when I see her standing just outside the curtain. Her brown hair curled and falling around her face. A black silk blouse tucked inside a slim fitting pair of black pants. Black high-heeled boots and gold accessories complete the outfit. Her cell phone illuminates her face. If I didn't know she was a murderer, I would guess she was a high-fashion model.
"Hey, I was just coming to check on you. The curtain was closed, I didn't want to interrupt."
Ashley looks up from her phone briefly, "Anything VIP 3 orders tonight is on me. I'll settle the bill tonight after closing." She's talking at me, not to me, but I don't let it get under my skin.
"That's generous of you. Can I put it in an order for your room?" I ask, watching her tap away furiously on her phone.
I wonder what that's about.
"Madison likes those little crab things with the sauce," Ashley's voice is tense, she's annoyed.
It can't be with me, I just got here, "Crab Ragoon,"
"Yeah, and Aiden likes the Italian Roll Up." Ashley slips her phone into her pocket and presses her hand to her temple. "You can tell the kitchen I'll have my usual."
"Ok, I'll put that in for you now."
I watch Ashley disappear behind the privacy curtain and I head to the kitchen to put in the order. I run the bottles from the bar to VIP 2 and 3 and head back downstairs to wait on the food. While I'm there I get a chance to properly meet Jonah, the bartender who burst into Kyla's office to tell her about the fight. He teaches me a couple of the club's most requested drinks while I wait for the food to be sent out.
"VIP 1!" one of the cooks shouts from the back.
1 order of Crab Ragoons, 1 Italian Roll Up, and 1 Double Cheeseburger with bacon and a side of heavily seasoned waffle fries.
"I guess our lesson is over for now," Jonah looks at the food.
"I guess so," I hand him the perfectly made Whiskey Sour he just taught me to make. "Hey, is there a first aid kit around here?"
"Yeah, it's in the back, near the lockers." Jonah points.
I walk around the bar and back past the lockers. Sure enough, there is a first aid kit, a fire extinguisher, and some other supplies. I sift through the kit, gauze, alcohol wipes, Midol, Benadryl, and Tylenol, perfect. I take the medication and go back out for the tray of food. The curtain to VIP 1 is still closed when I make it to the room but I balance the food on one arm and pull the curtain back slightly with my other.
"Gallo's son," is all I hear. The conversation stops immediately.
"Sorry," I apologize looking around the room. "I have your food." I place the plates down in front of them. There's nothing on the table except bottles of water. I guess they aren't drinking tonight.
I hold the Tylenol out for Ashley.
"What is that?" She asks me. She's zoning in on her food, pulling the plate closer to her, and inspecting her burger.
"It's Tylenol," I tell her and she looks at me for the first time tonight. "For your headache." I set it down next to her plate.
"Thanks, uh…" Aiden intervenes.
"Spencer," I tell him before leaving the room.
Working the VIP crowd is easy. I check on them, clean up after them, strok their egos, and get them whatever they need within reason. Then collect my tips when they're ready to leave. The other half of my job was booking potential clients, customers who would pay for VIP treatment next time they visted. The club had a waitlist that was getting pretty long. Some specifically were requesting balconies in my section. I overheard a lot of things while working. None relevant to the investigation but it turns out the guy in VIP 3 is Erick, the club's alcohol vendor. Kyla was surprised to hear he was in the club and even more shocked to see he racked up a bill of over $15,000. Jonah taught me a few more drinks, according to him I'm a fast learner. I was able to help out when the bar needed it.
"Give me your phone, I can add you to the staff group chat while we have a sec," Jonah offers.
Instinctively I reach for my pockets and then remember I don't have any. My phone must be in my bag. Where is my bag? I didn't leave anything in Kyla's office and I still don't have a locker. I think back to the last time I remember having it. Sean's car. Dammit.