Alan frozen when he saw a man approach his car, right after he’d parked in the club’s lot. He sighed with relief when he realized it was Jim.
“You look like you saw a monster,” Jim said when Alan got out of the car. “Relax.”
“I’m trying to,” Alan replied, glancing around as he wondered where Baines’ men were. He didn’t see them, but then that was the idea, he figured.
Putting his hands on Alan’s shoulders, Jim pointed him toward the side entrance to the club. “Be ready for lots of loud music,” he said.
Alan almost replied, “I know,” before remembering that Jim had no idea he’d been there before—the nights just before, and after, Vic had been murdered. He shuddered.
“Come on, you can handle it,” Jim said with a grin, misreading Alan’s reaction.
The music was loud, but not unbearable.
