Catch a Shadow by Potter Patricia;

Author:Potter, Patricia;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media Romance

CHAPTER 17

Jake used his map to find the nightclub in downtown Atlanta.

Once he arrived, he drove around the block. There seemed to be no private parking, only valet service.

He wore a light blue, long-sleeved shirt he purchased earlier in the day. Still, he wasn’t sure he could get inside the club with blue jeans until he saw two jean-clad men enter.

Well, he hadn’t gone to a club in fifteen years or so.

He gave the valet twenty dollars and asked to park his own car.

The young man in a tie didn’t blink. Just gave him directions on where to park.

Jake drove through a narrow alley into the back. He almost instantly saw Sam’s car. He parked and looked around. No one. He stepped out of the car and inspected Sam’s.

No explosives. Jake heard the crunch of pebbles as a car was being driven in. He stood and brushed dirt off his new shirt as he strode down the driveway toward the front entrance. He noted a side door that was probably used by employees.

He went inside, paid an exorbitant cover charge, and wandered over to the bar where he could see the small stage. Sam was playing sax with four other musicians. Jazz, and very good jazz at that.

Some couples were dancing, Others were sitting back and listening. The lights were dim, and he doubted Sam could see him.

Jake ordered a drink. He was one of the few patrons sitting by himself. The rest were mostly couples.

Maybe he was giving Adams too much credit. Except he couldn’t forget that C4 under Sam’s sink. He sat there, his gaze roaming around the room again. Those working for Adams would be paid mercenaries, and there was usually something that set them apart from other people, no matter how much they tried to blend into the environment.

He listened to another song and glanced at his watch. They must be near the end of the set. He gulped down the weak bourbon and water, paid the bill, and headed toward the exit. He thought the musicians probably left by the side door.

“Don’t like the music?” the guy at the door asked.

“I like it just fine,” Jake said. “Just got a text message that the friend I was meeting can’t come, and it’s been a long day. I imagine the music’s ending soon.”

The man looked at his watch. “Another five minutes.”

“I’ll be back. That sax player’s damned good.”

The guy was looking at him. His gaze locked on the scar above Jake’s ear. “You military?”

“Used to be.”

The guy grinned. “I can always tell. I was in Nam. Marines.”

He waited for Jake to declare his branch.

“Army,” Jake said.

“You come back again, and I won’t charge you.”

“Thanks. I’ll do that.”

“If I’m not at the door, just ask for Sarge. Everyone calls me that.”

Jake hesitated. “You see any other military here tonight?”

“None I recognized. Why?”

“Just wondered whether it might be a gathering place. Anyway, thanks, Sarge.”

Jake left without leaving his name or giving Sarge a chance to ask more questions. He didn’t like lying to guys who’d served.

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