Free Nightwalker by Connie Hall Page B

just vamped his way through. She didn’t have that luxury. Takala nodded that she understood and was glad to get away from the front door and the bouncer. She could feel the woman’s eyes following her as she kept walking.
    A taxi stopped near her, and a group of men hopped out. They looked as if they were in the throes of a bachelor party. They flashed their membership cards and entered the Petite la Belle, distracting the bouncer’s attention.
    Takala ducked down a tiny alley that ran the length of the building. She waded through trash and smelled the overpowering scent of urine. Several rats scurried out of her way, chittering at being interrupted. Nothing frightened Takala more than rats. Wererats were on her “yuk” list, too. Nina, her younger sister, liked rats because she could communicate with them. Takala had no desire to talk to rats or anything resembling them. She froze until she was certain they were back in their holes; then she hurried down the length of the building until she reached a back alley.
    It was narrow, the walls of old buildings crouched together. Several dim yellow bulbs cast creepy shadows over the line of an overflowing dumpster. Beyond the sphere of lights, darkness and shadows loomed.
    All she could think about was Lilly’s safety. Why would she come to such a place? She wondered where Nightwalker was inside and how she could avoid him.
    Takala tried the back door.
    Locked.
    She easily twisted it until the lock broke; then sheslunk inside. She stood in a pantry with a large freezer. A rack held a line of dirty aprons. Near it were what looked like six employee lockers.
    Takala peeked through the swinging door and glimpsed a kitchen. Four cooks were busy slinging food and yelling over the music while a busboy emptied out a dishwasher. Bare-breasted waitresses came and went among the ordered chaos. The male cooks didn’t even seem to notice. Business as usual.
    Takala donned a dirty apron and slipped through the hustle and bustle of the kitchen unnoticed. She grabbed a French fry off a plate and ate it. Actually, it wasn’t bad.
    She ducked into a hallway near the bathrooms and slipped off the apron, tossing it into a tall ashtray. Then she stepped out into the packed bar.
    She had been in many strip bars before, getting dirt on cheating husbands mostly. The European strip joints seemed similar to their American counterparts. The cheap speaker system, the disco ball, the center runway, poles on the bars where the women undulated, doors behind which patrons and waitresses disappeared for a short time in pursuit of drugs, sex, or both.
    She surveyed the crowd. No Nightwalker. Where was he? She spotted Lilly at the bar. She sipped a pink daiquiri and was speaking to the guy sitting next to her. Lilly looked comfortable, completely at ease, at home in this place. Was she in her element? It hit Takala that there were a lot of sides to Lilly Smith’s character that disturbed her. She could imagine telling Fala and Nina about this. Fala would blow a gasket, and Nina would just say, “I told you so.” Nah, she’d spare them theugly details. In fact, she might not even mention this whole episode. It would only hurt her sisters to know the truth, and Takala would never intentionally do that. Who knows—she wasn’t even sure she would make herself known to Lilly Smith. What would be the point if the woman was a cold-blooded killer? But one thing she couldn’t do in good conscience was leave Lilly in danger.
    She watched the disco lights shining off the top of Lilly’s companion’s bald head. He wore blue hexagon sunglasses pushed down on the end of his pug nose. His mottled skin took on the hue of his sunglasses. He had small slits for eyes and a tongue that darted out as he kept licking his lips. A serpent two-skin? They were almost as bad as wererats.
    Takala scanned the room for Nightwalker, and that’s when she felt an arm lock