Free Shallow Grave-J Collins 3 by Lori G. Armstrong

enforcer is unclear?”
    Martinez didn’t deny he’d let Jackal handle the punishment portion of the situation. Th
    en again, I hadn’t
    expected him to.
    “One problem: I know a helluva lot more about sucking down drinks than making them.”
    “Big Mike volunteered to give you a crash course,”
    Martinez said.
    Great.
    85

    “Most guys who hang out in Bare Assets drink beer or mixed drinks.”
    Seemed he’d thought of everything.
    “So. You in, or what?” Jackal asked impatiently.
    I glanced at Martinez, leaning nonchalantly against the wall—Antonio Banderas and a fl inty-eyed young Steve McQueen rolled into one. “Why me?”
    He sipped his water. Either he was considering his answer or he didn’t plan on giving me one.
    Which he knew drove me crazy.
    “Are you asking me this favor as an investigator, Martinez?” I’d promised Kevin I would keep my relationship with Martinez on a strictly personal level. I hadn’t told Tony in so many words, but I suspected he knew.
    When he didn’t respond and continued studying me in that unnerving manner, I felt entitled to provoke him.
    “Or is this your subtle way of getting the chick you’ve been fucking to learn some new moves?”
    Without breaking eye contact with me, Martinez said, “Get out,” to Jackal.
    Jackal’s boots hardly touched the carpet as he hustled to the door.
    I said, “Stay right there.” If the question made Martinez uncomfortable, all the better. “You brought this up in front of him.” I pointed to Jackal. “If it is Hombres business, he deserves to hear why you think I’m the best candidate for the 86

    job. So, answer the goddamn question, Martinez.”
    For once he didn’t hedge. “Fine. You ran a restaurant in Minneapolis. You know the routine, how to handle customers, what kind of suspicious behavior to look for, which is one of the reasons I asked you.”
    “And the other reason?”
    He grinned. “No male bartenders at Bare Assets.
    Guys are more inclined to buy drinks from a hot chick than from another guy.”
    If he thought that “hot chick” comment and sexy smile would win him points, he was sadly mistaken. My eyes narrowed.
    “Ooh, watch out, boss. She’s going all self-righteous and feminist on us now,” Jackal jeered.
    Th
    en I knew if I continued to push and argue, Martinez would lose credibility with his new enforcer. I realized that’s exactly what Jackal anticipated, so I let it drop.
    “You honestly think I’ll fi t in?”
    “Yeah.”
    Not exactly the ringing endorsement I’d hoped for, but the bottom line was I wanted to do it. If for no other reason than to hear what Martinez’ (female) employees thought of him. Was he an asshole who made them cower in fear? Did he take special interest in the skills of his dancers? Or did he audition them personally?
    87

    Pathetic, my petty jealousy, but there it was. “Fine.
    I’ll do it.”
    Th
    e lines around his eyes relaxed. “Good.”
    Something else popped into my head, something horrible. “Unless I have to wear a G-string and pasties.
    Th
    en no fucking way.”
    Jackal snorted into his beard.
    Martinez shot him a look. “Bartenders wear black.
    Skirts, pants, shirt, whatever, just as long as it’s all black.”
    Probably so they blended into the background and wouldn’t compete with the strippers. With my fl at chest that wouldn’t be a problem; I’d be wallpaper.
    “How many days are we talking?”
    “However many it takes.”
    “Not good enough. Need I remind you I already have a job? I can’t just blow it off to do this favor for you, Martinez.”
    “I’ll make sure Crystal schedules you to come in as late as possible. But I’d like to have you on shift Th ursday, Friday, and Saturday nights this week. Tuesday next week.”
    “After that we’ll see. No promises.”
    “I’m used to the no promises parameters with you, blondie.”
    What the hell? Was that a shot at our relationship?
    Before I demanded an explanation, Jackal said, “Big