It was a strip club.
“This doesn’t look like a police station,” Augusta croaked, her voice strangled by her closing throat. She was trying to sound sassy, but instead, her voice came out thin and scared.
“How about that?” one of the guys joked. “I guess it doesn’t look like a police station, does it?”
“Oh, my. No,” said the tall one who had done most of the talking. “It looks like a dive, doesn’t it? We should clean the place up a bit. Can’t have an office of the law looking like a dump.”
They pushed her through the doors, forcing her to keep walking. Augusta dragged her feet, not because she was being difficult, but because she literally couldn’t function. She’d been too quick to lose confidence in Ray, and she hated herself for it.
Why couldn’t I have had just a little more faith? These guys tapped into my fears, and I abandoned him as if he were a sinking ship.
“Look,” she cried, trying one last time. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I deserve a phone call …”
The talky one turned and slapped her hard across the face. She would have fallen if the guy behind her hadn’t held her up. His hands tightened on her upper arms, and Talky guy squared up as if he was going to hit her again. She cowered, closing her eyes.
“Hold up,” one of them growled. She realized that he was the one with the tattoo.
How fucking thick am I, seriously? We go searching for this guy all over town, and then I don’t see him even when he’s right in front of my face.
“The boss will want her in one piece,” Malone said.
The other guys all nodded to each other, with the one holding her wearing a petulant scowl. It looked like he’d love to beat the crap out of her, just for kicks. Augusta hoped he wasn’t going to be involved in her torture.
Torture? You don’t know that’s what they’re planning.
No, I’m sure we’re going to have a nice tea party with china cups and finger cakes.
Augusta giggled as her mind wrestled with itself, knowing that she was coming unhinged from the stress. It was probably a good thing.
They dragged her to a large, bare room with a concrete floor, a small desk, and a roller door at one end that probably led to a loading dock. Augusta didn’t get much chance to take in her surroundings before she was shoved into a chair and held down.
“Hey, there, pretty lady,” a voice came from the shadows, a very relaxed and agreeable tone that contrasted sharply against her stress.
“We’ve been searching all over for you and your little picture.”
From the shadows, a slender man appeared. He smoked a long, thin cigar, the trail of smoke wreathing his head, making him appear somewhat ethereal. Augusta didn’t know much about all of this, but she assumed these guys were the De Lucas that Ray had mentioned.
Malone grinned at his friend. “We got her. Ol’ Matchstick Malone and Little Stevie accomplishing what others can’t, as always.”
“Let me go,” she cried, disappointed that she sounded like every heroine on every bad crime TV show she had ever watched. Little Stevie shook his head, taking a drag of his fancy cigar.
“You know I can’t do that. Not under the circumstances. Of course, if you’d like to give up your little picture, then we can talk.”
An even greater panic shot through her. She knew exactly what would happen if she did that. Specifically, what would happen to Ray. Besides, she didn’t even know where the negative was right now. Only Ray knew.
They don’t need to know about any of that.
“No,” she said, proud of how confident her voice sounded. “Ray has been protecting me, and I will protect him.”
The guys all grinned, shooting looks around the room. Little Stevie shook his head and came closer.
“He’s a monster, my dear. I can tell you some of the things he’s done, show you what became of the people who crossed him. He’s known as the most brutal executioner in all the mobs.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Little Stevie laughed, shrugging. “Suit yourself. I might show you the evidence, just for fun, but for now, I need to focus on what’s important.”
He dropped his cigar, reaching out for her so suddenly that she shrieked. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her.