Tangled in Blues by Connor Peterson

Author:Connor Peterson [Peterson, Connor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Casual Disaster Press

Chapter Seven

The place looked unoccupied, at the very least, which only served to give it more of an eerie air than normal. Tony stared at the front doors, now locked, and realized snooping around the place would be difficult without being able to enter the building. With a frown, he peered around the neighborhood, stepping backward to evaluate the small side street while buying a moment to think.

“Is ‘Summoning Demons’ not in the employee handbook?”

Tony groaned the same second the thought came to mind.

“No,” he said to the empty area, still dark with the embers of dawn barely visible on the horizon. “Surely there’s a back door to this damn place.” Tony jogged to the larger thoroughfare intersecting with the narrow road and rounded the corner to the other side of the establishment. It took longer than he expected to wind around and by the time he reached the area where the dumpsters and the kitchen door were situated, another riddle tickled at him, begging for an answer.

What did Rupert Shaw do with the rest of the building?

Squinting at the concrete façade, Tony wished for a moment he could perch upon a rooftop and glance down at the area from above. He saw the square footage belonging to the bar itself and could map out where the cooks and dishwashers spent their time. But one large segment of real estate had yet to be accounted for, igniting a spark of recognition within Tony’s mind. He saw the bar’s interior, replete with rowdy crowds and jukebox blaring classic rock or whatever the people circling it preferred to play. He saw the counter, with stools lined up, patrons seated while nursing their drinks. He saw the corridor leading to Vincent’s office and the door marked Restricted Access.

“Nocturnal Flame,” Tony murmured before giving in to the one card he had left to play. “Bailey? Where the hell are you?”

A rush of air knocked him back several paces, but as the same gray mist enveloped where he’d been standing, he bit his tongue against any profanity wanting to be spilled. The smoke materialized into a person, this one a young man in his thirties with chiseled features and blond hair. His brown eyes danced as the corner of his mouth curled upward. “Finally got ahold of that employee manual, I see,” Bailey said, raising one hand to his face and cupping his chin in his palm.

Tony groaned and rolled his eyes. “New car again, I see,” he countered.

“Well, I’ve been expecting you. I thought maybe this would be more your cup of tea.” The hand lowered to his side. “Or do you prefer brunettes?”

“I prefer folk not bein’ presumptuous as far as I’m concerned.”

“Fair enough. So, what brings you here after business hours?” His smile broadened. “Are we spying now?”

“I need to know what’s goin’ on.” Tony walked away from the building, gazing toward the roof while headed for the cross street again. “And since you’re the one tauntin’ me with this mystery, I hoped you would come out and spill it.

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