Nervous tension settles within my gut as I make my way out to the dance floor. The club is about to open, and I see some of the waitresses sitting around in the lounge area talking to one another. I smile and wave, but I don’t feel like talking, not right now. I am still trying to decide whether or not I should fire Meg at the beginning of her shift or at the end.
“Hey, bossman!” Carter says. For once, he is not standing in front of the mirror styling his hair, so I can’t help but mess with him.
“Good evening, Carter. You’ve got a hair that’s…uh…sticking up,” I tell him, gesturing at his bangs.
Immediately, his eyes widen, and he curses as he turns to the mirror. I can’t help but chuckle at him as he calls me an unflattering name. Laughing, I turn to head out to the club and almost run into Leah.
“You’re in a remarkably good mood,” she says, looking at me suspiciously.
I shrug. “I’m trying,” I tell her. I haven’t told her my plans. She’d probably try to tell me that I’m being irrational, and maybe she’s right, but I have already resolved myself that this is the plan, and I really don’t want to wait until Meg’s shift is over to tell her what I’ve decided. I’m guessing she’ll want to finish her shift, though. She does seem to really enjoy her job.
I get distracted by a problem with one of the taps, and before I know it, the club has been open for over half an hour, and the place is hopping. I hear one of the waitresses complaining that they can’t keep up with all of their tables, which I think is odd. I turn around to see what the problem is and instinctively scan the room for Meg.
My eyes can’t spot her in the crowd, which seems strange. She’s never late. I look around for her, gazing more carefully, but her red and purple hair doesn’t stick out to me. “Carter,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant, “is our whole staff here?”
He’s been busy trying to keep up with the demand for drinks without all of the machines working, so he’s a little flustered. “Uh… looks like we’re missing a waitress,” he says. “Not sure which one…”
I know immediately which one it is. I don’t need to check the schedule to see who didn’t come in. This isn’t right. Meg would be here if she didn’t let someone know she wasn’t feeling well or something. “No one called in?” I ask Carter.
Handing a tray to Lexi, he answers over his shoulder, “Nope, not that I know of. You can ask Ethan or Leah.”
“Where’s Meghan?” Lexi asks, taking the tray. “She usually handles this group of guys. They’re asking for her.”
“I’ll go call her,” I say, and I step through to the employee’s locker area next to the lounge, hoping to see her or at least hear her laugh from the attached room. But it’s quiet. It’s empty.
Pulling my cell phone from my pocket, I find her name quickly enough and dial. It rings and rings before it finally goes to voicemail. “Hey, Meghan. It’s Hunter. Just wondering where you’re at,” I say. “Hope everything is okay. Give me a call back, or call Carter, please.” I hang up, but this is weird.
I also send her a text. “You okay? Your shift has started.” That’s enough for now. With a deep breath, I head into my office to see if Leah is in there. Maybe Meg called her.
Leah is working on my laptop when I walk in. I try to stay casual. “Hey, have you heard anything from Meg? She’s late, and that’s weird.”
Though she’s in the middle of typing, Leah glances up for a second before she says, “No, but she’s only a few minutes late. Give her some time. Maybe she got a flat tire or something.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I say, trying to stay calm. She has a point. Meg’s car is archaic. But…she would’ve called if it was car trouble, wouldn’t she? I don’t feel right about this.
I decide to take Leah’s advice and head back up to the club to help out since they’re a girl short. I’ll need to call in a backup if Meg doesn’t arrive soon. Before long, I am busy helping out however I can, though I am not practiced enough to carry a drink tray. I won’t even attempt to do that. All the while, I can’t stop thinking about Meg. It’s so strange that she’s not here. Every time I hear the door open to the back, whether it’s someone coming or going to the bathroom or to take a break, I hope it’s her. But it never is.
Finally, when Meg’s over an hour late, I decide I have to go check on her. I can’t just stand here and pretend everything is okay, not when I have a really bad feeling in my gut that something is wrong. I’m not sure what it is—maybe that death trap of a car has finally turned on her—or maybe it’s something else, but I plan to drive to her apartment, checking for wrecks and broken-down cars along the way.
“Call in some backup,” I tell Carter, wiping my hands on a dishtowel. “I’m going to check on Meg.”
“Okay,” he calls over his shoulder. “Be careful.”
It might seem like a strange thing to say under any other circumstances, but he knows the life I live. My eyes go to Ethan before I walk out. I wish I could take him with me, but we’re busy, and I wouldn’t trust any of these other kids to be of much help if I do run into trouble. Not the type that it would require to make sure that Meg is okay.
But then, that’s silly. She’s probably fine.
As I prepare to walk to my vehicle, Leah’s words from the other night come back to my mind. She’d said that Meg was already in danger just from working here, and she’s not wrong.
All the way to Meg’s apartment, I’m looking on both sides of the road, checking for wrecks or cars with flat tires. I check to see if any of the people walking down the sidewalks might be her. The closer I get to her apartment, the more dread I begin to feel. I can’t explain why. My gut is already beginning to ache with the idea that there’s something wrong.
When I pull into her apartment complex, I see a couple of black SUVs that don’t seem to fit with the rest of the cars in the parking lot. Why would two expensive vehicles be parked right next to each other here? Most of these people drive cars very similar to Meg’s.
With a deep breath, I reach over to the glove compartment and pull out my 1911. I wouldn’t trust any other gun in this situation. It fits right into the holster under my jacket, but I’m not sure I want to keep it there… Maybe I’ll keep it in my hand for now, just in case.
Something’s definitely not right.
Stepping out of the vehicle, I note that the place is eerily quiet. I don’t hear any loud music blaring or even the background laugh track from a television. No one is walking around. With my gun in my hand, I head toward the stairs that lead up to Meg’s apartment.