“But that wasn’t the last time we caught him on camera, though.” Rebel pulled out his phone and handed it to Barracuda. “That is from the last shift Memphis worked.”
I shifted behind Barracuda and watched the clip of the film on his phone. “That’s the same guy.”
“Sure the fuck is.” Tank pointed at the phone. “Keep watching.”
“Guy sat in Memphis’ section the whole night. Doesn’t talk to her too much or seem suspicious. Stays until close. Goes out to his car and waits. Memphis walks out of the club, gets in his car, and they drive off.” Rebel shook his head.
“What the fuck?” Barracuda growled. “Why the fuck do they get in the car with him?” he demanded.
I grabbed the phone from Barracuda and watched the video of Memphis again. None of this was making sense. The connection between Billie Jean and Memphis was this guy, but I was fucking stumped as to why and what happened.
“You think he’s somehow getting the girl’s to come home with him and then he’s killing them?” Jet asked.
“We got a fucking serial killer on our hands?” Jinx suggested.
“Whatever the fuck is going on, we need to get that guy’s picture in the hands of all of the girls. If he’s managed to grab two girls already, there's no way to know if he’s looking to take more girls.” He pointed at the phone. “Get the best picture of him that you can and circulate it with everyone at the club. Double the security at the door, and let’s see if we can catch this guy.”
Tank nodded. “Will do, ‘cuda.”
“Someone has to know who this guy is, and we’re gonna fucking find out.” Barracuda slammed his fist on the bar.
Whoever this guy was, he was fucking with the girls at the club, and that meant he was fucking with the club.
I pulled my phone out and sent a text to Raelyn. Yesterday, when we had lunch and tested out Leona’s desk, we hadn’t talked about what was happening with Billie Jean. I could tell she was struggling with not knowing what was going on. I had been trying to figure out what happened that night but was coming up short. Now we at least had a picture of one of the last people to be seen with Billie Jean.
Coming over for dinner. Got some news.
Raelyn was just getting off work, and I knew she was going to want to know anything I did right away.
The sooner we got the Billie Jean and Memphis mystery solved, the sooner I could focus fully on Raelyn.
Right now, whatever was going on between us was a good distraction, but I wanted us to be more than just a distraction.
I wanted a whole hell of a lot more than that from her. I wanted all of her attention, and the only way I was going to get that was to find her sister and bring her home.
Time to kick this shit into high gear and be the hero Raelyn had been looking for when she knocked on my door.
*
Chapter Twelve
Raelyn
I’ll show you patronizing…
“So they both left willingly?” I asked.
Playboy nodded and grabbed a hamburger off the tray. “At least, that is what it looks like on the surveillance video.” He squirted ketchup and mayo on the burger and slapped the top bun on. “Neither Billie Jean nor Memphis looked like they were forced to leave with him.”
“But why?” I had asked the same question four times already. None of this made sense. Not one bit of it. “Why is he taking the girls? Why Billie Jean and Memphis?”
There were tons of girls who worked at the club, yet he had targeted those two.
“If we knew why, we wouldn’t be sitting here.” Playboy took a huge bite of his burger. “The only good thing that has come out of this is you and me,” he muttered around a mouthful.
“You and me?” I asked.
Playboy took a drink of his beer and swallowed. “Yeah, pretty girl. I doubt you would have ever made it to the clubhouse if this wouldn’t have happened.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you telling me you don’t think I’m the biker chick type?” I wasn’t. Not at all. Unless it was Playboy.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and chuckled. “I think you are now.”
I flitted my hand in the air. “Let’s focus on Billie Jean right now. What do we do next?”
“We’re gonna get the guy’s picture in everyone's hands at the club. We’re hoping that might help spark a memory in one of the girls.”
My mind was racing with every possible thought of who the guy could be.
Why would Billie Jean get in the car with him? Billie Jean wasn’t into guys at all so it wasn’t like she went home with him to hookup.
“What’s got your brow furrowed, pretty girl?” He reached out and pressed a finger to my brow.
“I just don’t know what to think, Playboy. Why would she get in the car with him? Why is she gone?”
Playboy sighed. “I know you two are close, Raelyn, but maybe you don’t know your sister as well as you think you do.”
I leaned away from his touch. “What does that mean?”
“It means she maybe into things that you have no idea about.”
What was he talking about? He was talking around what he really wanted to say. “I think you need to just come out and say whatever it is you’re dancing around.”
Playboy sighed heavily. “I see a lot of things at the club, pretty girl. I’ve never seen Billie Jean take drugs, but she may just be good at hiding it.”
“You think she went with that guy to get drugs or something?” Nope. That wasn’t it. I knew it wasn’t.
“It’s a possibility that can’t be ruled out. I know Memphis had some problems last year,” he trailed off.
I shook my head. “So that means Billie Jean had the same problem? No. Billie Jean wouldn’t do drugs. You obviously don’t know her at all. She may dress sexy and tough and have an attitude, but she would never do drugs. She would tell you straight to your face you were an idiot if you touched drugs.”
Playboy held up his hands. “I’m just talking here, Raelyn. You can’t rule out a possibility without exploring it.”
“But it doesn’t sound like you’re exploring it at all. It sounds like you decided that’s what is going on.” I shook my head. “I’m not going to believe what you’re saying unless I see the proof. There are so many other possibilities of why she left with that guy.”
“You need to take a breath and calm down, pretty girl.”
I shook my head. Yeah, no. Don’t tell me to calm down. Playboy didn’t have anything invested in Billie Jean. He wasn’t close to her. She wasn’t his damn sister. “I don’t need to take a breath,” I hissed. “I need to find my sister and bring her home.”
Playboy stepped toward me, but I held my hand out.
“Raelyn. I’m here to help you,” he reasoned.
I shook my head. “But are you? Somehow, I got lost in you, and now, I’m not doing enough to find Billie Jean. She’s been gone for over a week,” I wailed. “What am I doing while my sister is God knows where and probably being treated like shit? I’m sitting in my house, eating good food, and talking to you. How is that me doing everything I can to find her?” I demanded.