Free A.R. Winters - Valerie Inkerman 01 - Don't Be a Stranger by A.R. Winters Page B

dump me the next morning, I would have to view his handsomeness through a filter of ugliness, or whatever the opposite of rose-tinted glasses was. Ugly-colored glasses.
    “The Chemistry Club?”
    Jerry’s voice brought me back to reality, and I blinked. “Yeah?”
    “I know this guy who’s a club promoter. He could probably get us in. If Michelle was in the club, there’d be security tapes of her.”
    I watched as Jerry whipped out his cellphone and made a few phone calls. The first was to his friend, the club promoter – and they spent a good five minutes catching up on each other’s lives, before Jerry asked how he could see the tapes for Friday night. He hung up and turned to me. “My friend’s gonna talk to the owner of the place. We should be able to get in.”
    I nodded, impressed by his persuasiveness. Perhaps Jerry wasn’t as nonchalant about the whole murder case as he pretended to be.
    His phone rang again after ten minutes, and a brief conversation later, Jerry turned to me. “We’re in. The club opens at ten tonight, so if we turn up at seven, we can watch the tapes for three hours.”
    I nodded and glanced at the clock. “I guess we’ve got time for a quick dinner. Chinese takeout?”
    Jerry shook his head. “Still trying to stay in shape. I think I’ll just have a protein shake.”
    I made a face, and decided to reheat some leftovers from lunch for myself. As I ate, I looked over my notes again. At some point, I’d have to type them all up but, for now, the index cards would have to do.
    By the time I’d finished my food, I decided that my next move would have to be to chat with people at Esme’s workplace. It was too late to call and set up appointments now, so I’d just have to figure out what to do tomorrow morning.
    Unless, of course, something turned up in the security tapes we were about to watch.

Chapter Seventeen
     
    On the subway ride over to The Chemistry Club, Jerry informed me it was one of the most happening New York nightclubs at the moment. The bartenders wore lab coats, and drinks were served in test-tubes and conical flasks.
    I nodded silently as I listened, not really impressed. The club scene was beyond me already. When I’d first moved here, I’d gone for a year or two, but although dancing was fun and the places were cool, the vibe quickly turned me off. There were too many obviously under-age girls pretending to be sophisticated, models trying to scope out a wealthy man to seduce, and men hoping to meet an “open-minded” woman to take home.
    I was a bit surprised that Michelle still went to these clubs, and wondered what else she liked to do in her spare time. Clearly she wasn’t the type to stay at home and knit sweaters.
    The Chemistry Club was dead inside when we arrived. I was sure that within a few hours, the walls would be booming with the sounds of music and happy people but, at this hour, the downstairs floor was deserted.
    A man named Remy met us at the door and led us upstairs. He was a square-bodied, bald man with good-humored eyes. “You’ve never been here before?” he asked me as we went into an office room.
    I shook my head, and Jerry said, “She’s not much fun.”
    I was tempted to stick my tongue out at Jerry, but Remy said, “I’m sure that’s not true. I don’t go clubbing myself – of course, I’m too old for it now.”
    “Oh no, that’s not true,” I murmured, while secretly trying to guess Remy’s age. He could’ve been anywhere from thirty to sixty.
    “These are the monitors,” Remy said, waving his hand at six screens that could not have been anything but monitors. “We keep an eye out on them during the night. Let me find Friday night’s footage and I’ll fire it up for you.”
    “What time did you open on Friday?”
    “Nine. But that’s just the party-warming crowd. Models we hire to make the place look good, and a bachelor party or two who paid in advance to get in. Drinks are cheaper then, so we get a few