Faceless (Sinister Secrets Book 2) by Candle Sutton (best motivational novels txt) 📕

Sid’s research earlier had determined that Divers spent most evenings hanging out at Aporrean Oscuro – Spanish for Dark Club – with several of her friends.

Hence the reason she was here, dressed like some party girl, instead of at home in comfortable clothes.

Sid nodded at the entrance. “You head in. I’ll wait a minute before following.”

Draping the tiny sequined crossbody purse around her, she walked toward the entrance. The purse felt awkward bouncing off her hip and she tried not to think how easy it would be for a thief to snatch it right now. She’d only ever used this stupid purse once before and had almost gotten rid of it – along with these murderous heels – when she’d moved to Seattle last fall, but had kept it in case she ever needed it again.

And now, here she was.

The two bouncers flanking the club’s entrance, both broad and lean, admitted two giggling college-aged girls.

One of the bouncers glanced up and saw her coming.

Even from here, she felt his appreciative gaze.

At least her efforts getting ready were having the desired effect. If the profile she’d worked up on Divers was accurate, Divers wouldn’t be caught dead talking to someone she didn’t deem to be in her same league, someone that would garner the kind of attention Divers herself did.

The other bouncer shifted so he could watch her approach, too.

She put on her most dazzling grin as she drew closer.

“G’day.” Most people responded well to her Australian accent, something that frequently worked to her advantage.

Looked like tonight would be no different.

“‘Sup?” The bouncer closest to her gave a little head jerk that he probably thought made him look cool.

“I’ve heard this is the only club worth coming to in this city.” She shifted her gaze between the two, tilting her head as she did so her blonde curls fell over her shoulder. “Is that right?”

“Oh yeah. Anyone who’s anyone comes here.” The second bouncer puffed out his chest like he was the owner.

She picked up her purse and opened the flap. “What’s the cover?”

“For you…?” The first bouncer exchanged a look with his buddy. “How about a drink? I get my break in about an hour.”

She giggled, feeling her IQ drop in the ridiculous action. “Oh, you are such a flirt!”

After taking a cursory glance inside her microscopic purse, and fanning a wand up and down her body, they allowed her to enter.

She felt a little naked without her gun, which was locked in a box bolted into her trunk, but she never would have made it past the bouncers.

Not to mention that there was zero place to conceal it in this stupid outfit.

Music throbbed, the vibration going right through her. The air smelled of stale smoke – probably permanently embedded in the walls, ceiling, and furniture from the many years when indoor smoking was allowed – and some kind of food. Chicken wings, maybe. Whatever it was, it held a hint of spice and a whole lot of deep-fried.

Her eyes slowly adapted to the dim lighting.

Two wide steps directly in front of her allowed access to the sunken dance floor. A modern oil-rubbed bronze railing encircled the dance floor and probably kept people who’d had a little too much to drink from stumbling over the two-foot drop-off to the packed dance floor below. Multi-colored lights flashed across the floor, where a cluster of human bodies danced – or tried to dance – in time to the driving rock beat.

Allowing her gaze to follow the railing, she found about half a dozen places with breaks in the railing where stairs led down to the dance floor below.

A small, elevated platform against the far wall housed a DJ and round, bar-height tables circled the perimeter of the room. A bar ran the length of the wall to her left, with dozens of bottles visible against the wall behind it.

Avoiding the fray of dancers, she went to the bar and ordered a club soda.

No way was she ordering anything with flavor or color, not in a place like this. If someone was going to slip something into her drink, she needed to be able to tell.

As she sipped the club soda, she scanned the room.

She counted at least a dozen blonde women. Thankfully, there were more brunettes and black-haired women than blondes, but the poor lighting meant she’d have to get up fairly close to see which one was Divers.

If any of them were.

They had no guarantee Divers would even be here tonight.

She spotted Sid at the entrance. How much did he have to pay to get in? Somehow she doubted he’d gotten the same deal she had.

As he dove right into the dancing mob, she worked her way around the perimeter. Yes, she’d likely have to dance at some point, but the longer she could put it off the better.

These heels were torture.

Four blonde women were not currently dancing. One was at the bar, and clearly wasn’t Divers. The other three occupied tables.

In this chaos, it’d be easy to get fairly close without being noticed.

She headed toward the first table, being careful to focus most of her attention on the dance floor. The blonde at this table was getting cozy with some guy who looked more like a CPA than a partier with his button-down shirt and wire-rimmed glasses.

A quick glance confirmed it most definitely was not Divers.

She kept moving toward the second table. Three women giggled as they pointed to something on the dance floor. Kevyn tried to follow their focus, but couldn’t see what they found so funny.

Most likely someone with no rhythm.

Didn’t matter. She could already tell that the blonde wasn’t Divers.

She passed the table.

The last table was on the other