Meanwhile, Roland had finally arrived. He was delayed by an unfinished investigation, and his dearest, most intoxicating partner, who should’ve helped out, had slipped off the grid for the night.
He stepped into the entrance, scowling at the flashing neon.
“This doesn’t look like a council hall,” he muttered, eyeing the chandeliers made of crystal roses and the dancers already losing themselves to the bass.
“Goddamn setup.” He chuckled, realizing they’d been tricked.
Still, his shoulders relaxed. Maybe a little distraction wouldn’t kill him. He strode in, scanning the booths.
“Might as well make time out of it,” he moved through the crowd, finding Velicia and the triplets partying in one booth. Cole was laughing, Cray was doing some kind of upside-down shot, and Carl was actually gig
