8

 

Loud music greeted Enrique as he walked through the door of the bar. This wasn’t that close to the college campus, but he supposed the students from OSU were welcomed customers at any bar in town. The clientele was young. At least the place wasn’t smoky thanks to Ohio’s non-smoking laws. He smiled. Enrique, boy, you really are getting old.

Not that he considered thirty-two old. He fought the urge to start demanding IDs to check their ages. He weaved his way through the throng of gyrating bodies on the dance floor and slipped onto a stool at the bar. The song ended but another one started up before his ears had a chance to recover.

He motioned at the bartender. Not Ryan Mattson, he didn’t look like the arrest photo. But that was OK. He might be able to get some information from this bartender about Ryan.

The man walked over. “Whattayawant?”

“A beer.” He raised his voice to be heard over the music.

“Draft or bottle?”

Enrique looked around. Not the cleanest place he’d ever been. “A bottle.”

The place was filled with college students, maybe even some teenagers. Did their parents know what they were doing while they paid good money to give them an education?

He rolled his eyes. He really was getting old.

“Three fifty.”

“Keep the change.” He handed the guy a ten.

The bartender’s eyes widened. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Let me know if you need anything else.”

Enrique nodded, but said nothing. He didn’t want to make the guy suspicious by throwing a lot of questions at him right away.

As the night wore on more people came in and the dance floor stayed crowded. It was wall-to-wall people. The music turned to rock and slightly less loud.

Enrique nursed his beer as long as he could and then ordered another.

The bartender brought it over. “You don’t look like you belong here.”

“Probably not, but even an old guy can dream if you know what I mean.” God forgive me. Sometimes it was hard being undercover.

“I know what you mean, buddy. Most of these college girls are snobs, but I know a few who aren’t if you’re interested. I can probably find one or two who might want to party with you. If you want to do more than dream about it I can make it happen.”

Now, that sounded interesting. Enrique’s cop instincts kicked in. The bartender was probably in his mid to late twenties—most likely too old for college, but apparently a businessman with many interests.

Their gazes met.

He wanted to explore this topic in more depth, but couldn’t risk it. His job wasn’t to break up a prostitution ring, but he would pass the information along to the Columbus PD. They would probably be very interested. “No thanks, just looking.” He held up his hand and pointed at his ring finger which was bare, but the guy got the message.

“Too bad.”

“Yeah, it is.” He turned back toward the dance floor.

Beyond the dance floor a guy at one of the tables caught Enrique’s gaze. The hair on his neck tingled. The man was jittery. Enrique didn’t like the way the dude was acting. He watched the man out of the corner of his eye.

In one quick movement, the man pulled out a packet and poured it into the can of soda sitting on the table. He grabbed a straw off the table stuck it in the soda and stirred.

Not good.

Enrique kept focused on the creep and tried to figure out the best way to get to him.

The dance floor was a mob scene. If he went around the people, he might lose sight of the guy. He worked his way into the gyrating bodies and was immediately enveloped in body heat, sweat, and alcohol. He took a deep breath and pushed through the crowd.

“Hey, watch where you’re going,” a deep voice growled.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t sound sorry,” the voice responded.

A girl with long blonde hair, in jeans and a skimpy top, sat down by the creep. She flung her hair back, laughing. The guy leaned closer and pushed the soda can towards her.

Enrique didn’t have time for this. He turned toward the voice. “No, I really am sorry.” He was eye level with a chest, a big, muscular chest. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. I really am sorry.”

The giant stepped closer.

Fine, he wanted to play it that way. Enrique grabbed the man’s head and pulled it toward his mouth. “Look, I’m a federal officer. I would back off if I were you. Got it?”

“Got it.” The guy turned away.

The table was empty. Enrique clicked through the possibilities, and he didn’t like any of them. No. No. No. That poor girl wouldn’t get raped on his watch.

Big Burly Chest turned back at the same moment, a grin on his face and his arm arched back. “Yeah, a federal agent. Right. Like I’m going to believe that.”

Enrique bobbed, but not quickly enough.

The huge fist caught him on the side of jaw. Pain shot through his cheek and echoed in his head as stars swam before his eyes, but he shook it off. He didn’t have time for a bar brawl. He had to get to that girl before they left. He pulled out his gun.

“He has a gun!” Someone shouted.

Everyone froze and people near the door and restrooms started running.

Fine. The fewer people in the room the faster he could do his job. Enrique held up his badge. “Federal officer. Now get out of my way.”

The bartender cut the music.

The crowd backed away.

That left him a path to the empty table. His gaze swept the room.

The guy was pushing the girl through an exit door at the side of the room, his arm in a protective circle around her shoulders.

Enrique charged through.

The crowd fell back as they figured out his direction.

The happy couple was outside by the time he reached them.

Creepy guy’s gaze met Enrique’s. His initial angry, combative look quickly changed to panic as his gaze landed on the gun still in Enrique’s hand. He pushed the girl at Enrique and took off running.

The girl crumpled to the ground. She had a confused look probably from the drugs.

A small crowd had followed.

“Call an ambulance. She’s been drugged.” Enrique ran in the direction he’d seen the man disappear.

Up ahead there was a clanging noise as if someone fell over a garbage can.

He ran into the darkness and came out onto a sidewalk. Dim street lights lit the area.

A shadow down the way lost his footing and began stumbling around.

A few seconds later Enrique pounced on his prey.