Friday's Child Read Free

in the opposite pocket to his actual ID. The last thing he wanted was to whip out the wrong one and break his cover.
    Patrick winced as he entered the club. The noise level increased in volume threefold. He hadn’t thought that possible. They weren’t going to get anything over the background noise here. Guess it was old fashioned surveillance time. He crossed the heaving dance floor and reached the bar.
    “What can I get you?” The bartender raised his voice above the level of the music.
    “I’ll have coke with ice and a slice, please.” Even off duty, he refused to drink. Not that being a Christian would prevent it. But he’d seen firsthand how alcohol had nearly destroyed his brother and had no intentions of going down that path. Patrick pulled money out of his pocket and exchanged it for the drink. “Thanks.”
    He turned his attention to the people gyrating on the dance floor. They were all so young, either that or he was showing his age. Enough of the old. You already had this conversation with yourself once today. He sipped his drink, the music reverberating within him. Glancing around, he spied a table to one side. Grabbing a handful of peanuts, he crossed over to it and sat down. Hopefully this Lisa would start singing soon, before the bass did serious damage to his ears.
    He caught a glimpse of a woman making her way to the small stage. Her long white dress, split to mid-thigh, glowed in the blue lighting, her features and very feminine curves enhanced by it. Her brown hair hung almost to her waist. She looked older than the teens bopping to the latest dance hits on the floor. If he had to guess, he’d say around his age. What is this fascination with age? Sooner I am out of here the better.
    The dance music stopped. As the woman sat on the stool near the center of the stage and picked up the guitar, Patrick’s heart stopped. Lisa Bellamy was none other than Eleanor Harrison, his former girlfriend and the dowdy librarian from earlier. Was she really as good as Liam said she was?
    In which case, why was she a librarian? Something didn’t add up.
    Wow, but she looks cute in that outfit. So much better than the librarian getup… Then he quickly caught himself. He was working and until proved otherwise, he had to assume that no one was above suspicion of wrong doing.
    This was the center of the operation.
    It was this bar that the drugs were coming in and out of, as well as the money. On the surface, things looked fine. The place turned a tidy profit, and nothing had come to light during the routine police and health and safety checks. All the employee checks as far as he knew were fine.
    But the intel he’d received from Scotland pointed to something far deeper. And if Elle worked here, she could be involved. Should he get someone else assigned? Ring Shay, ask her to come and take over? Catch Elle before he left, find out what she was doing here?
    He slumped in his chair trying to make a decision, but as the lights came up he realized it was too late. He was caught in the edge of the spotlight and it would be blatantly obvious if he went anywhere. He nursed his drink, wishing fervently he could sneak out and leave, and glanced at her as she strummed the guitar and began singing.
    Wow. The same word resonated in his mind as he sat up straight.
    She was good. No, more than good, she was fantastic. For the next twenty minutes, Patrick sat entranced as Elle sang. Blood pounded in his ears in time to the music, his fingers tapped on his glass and his feet moved in perfect rhythm. He wanted to catch her attention as she glanced around the audience, but she didn’t look his way. Did she know he was there and was avoiding eye contact?
    The set finished and he applauded and whistled. His heart leapt as she finally looked straight at him.
    He beckoned to her, and his pulse pounded in his neck as Elle finally acknowledged him and came over. Before she could say anything, he stood and clasped her hand. Warmth shot