CHAPTER 7
Twenty minutes later Tana walked into a bar down the street from The Bugle called The Ruby Room. It was the middle of the day, lunchtime anywhere else. But the place was dead quiet, and the barflies hanging out in the shadows all looked like they’d been there since breakfast. A rugged, middle-age man wearing a gray work shirt and faded jeans was hunched over a drink in a booth by the window. He had a narrow face, long hair going gray at the temples and salt and pepper stubble. A double shot of bourbon was on the table in front of him. The man saw Tana and motioned to her.
“Frank Aiken?” Tana said as she came up to him.
Aiken nodded.
“Have a seat.”
Tana slid into the booth, then looked at Aiken with a puzzled expression. “How’d you know it was me?”
“You don’t look like the t
