Val gritted her teeth. “That’s right. There was one on Williamsburg Bridge Road the night of the attack.” She watched the hatchback as it bumped toward the end of the street. “But was it the same one?”
She remembered Genevieve veering around a red hatchback as they pursued the Lexus a few nights ago, but they’d been going too fast for her to discern the make, model, or license number.
“Think we should go after it?” Val wondered.
Genevieve started her engine.
“Whoa, girlfriend. Calm your exhaust pipe.” Val laid a hand on the keys and turned off the ignition. “I’m not leaving Blair and Yuka. We’ll keep an eye out for it.”
Genevieve’s engine grumbled into silence.
“I know, girl. I know,” Val muttered.
The warehouse door behind Genevieve rose with a mechanical whine. Blair strolled outside and warily scanned the street, hands in his pockets. His Anvil Brewery golf shirt was streaked with stains.
Val rolled down the window. “Coast’s clear, Blair. You guys ready to go home?”
Blair nodded. “No deliveries tonight.”
“Cool.” Val started Genevieve. “I’ll follow you.”
“Anything suspicious?” Blair asked, shoulders tense.
Val shook her head. “Not a thing, but I’ll be right behind you on the drive home. Don’t worry.”
Blair sighed. “If only it were that easy.” He paused. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say you’re not good at your job.”
“I hear you.” Val gave a sympathetic smile. “I’ve got the number of a great therapist if you need it.”
Blair sighed. “We very well might.” He turned around and headed back into the factory, shoulders slumped.
Val followed Blair and Yuka to their elegant old brownstone house in Bed-Stuy. She ensured that the house was clear and the doors were locked, then waved goodbye to the couple and slid into the driver’s seat.
Genevieve revved her engine.
“Yeah, absolutely,” Val agreed. “We do need to blow off steam.” She checked her GPS. “There’s a nightclub six minutes from here. Think you can make it in four?”
Three minutes and twenty-seven seconds later, Genevieve skidded sideways into a miraculous parking space half a block from the nightclub. The engine hummed with contentment as she squeezed into the spot.
Val rolled up the windows and ran her hands over her windblown undercut. She smoothed the black hair down one side of her face and grinned at herself in the rearview mirror.
“Feel better, Gennie?” she asked.
Genevieve honked in an affirmative.
“Cool. Now it’s my turn.” Val stepped out of the Mustang and strode down the sidewalk to the nightclub. Music thudded from the open door, accompanied by pulses of many-colored light. The hectic energy drew Val like an oasis in the desert.
This was no oasis, however. The club was exactly what she’d expected when she stepped inside: crowded, loud, and filled with thumping energy. The smell of alcohol and sweat mingled with the DJ’s beats as a pack of bodies bounced on the dance floor, early though it was. Val had to shove her way to the bar.
A pierced and tattooed bartender served her a double rum and Coke with impressive speed. Val downed it and ordered another as the sweet buzz filled her veins.
She pulled out her phone and texted Enzo. It was quarter to six.
You fine with Tetra?
She’s sweet as pie. Don’t worry. I’ll drop her off after work.
“Sweet as pie, huh?” Val drank deeply from the second glass. “Faerie whisperer.”
The second drink dispelled all thoughts of Tetra from her mind. Val eyed the dance floor, decided she wasn’t drunk enough for that yet, and ordered a whiskey on the rocks instead.
“Your drink, miss.” The bartender slid it across the bar.
“Thanks, man.” Val took it.
The bartender’s eyes darted over her shoulder and narrowed. A moment later, a burly guy who smelled of stale booze slid onto the stool beside hers.
“You come here often?” he asked, loose-lipped. He planted a half-empty brandy glass on the bar.
Val eyed him. “Really? Don’t you have an imagination?”
The guy sneered. “Don’t get pissy with me.”
“I’m not pissy,” Val told him calmly. “You’ll know it when you see it.”
The bartender served the guy another drink, shooting glances at a bouncer in a black suit who stood by the door.
“Don’t worry.” Val offered the bartender a sweet smile. “I’m good.”
