Black Jack’s Bar and Pub, 11:57 PM.
The bar was moody and dim, tucked behind a cigar shop in the warehouse district.
Landon slipped in through the back entrance, every nerve alert. He’d left his car blocks away and looped twice to be sure he wasn’t being followed. This was an everyday occurrence for him. He wore a charcoal jacket over a black shirt.
He scanned the room with practiced precision. Low lighting. Two exits. A camera above the bar, but probably fake. A bouncer near the front, disinterested. A waitress with too much eyeliner. And then—
Her.
His mystery woman sat at the bar, her posture relaxed but alert. She wore a black dress, the neckline of her dress plunging low enough to draw the eye but high enough to make you question if she’d kill you for staring too long. Her hair w
