guests.
There were dozens of tables around the perimeter of the room, dimly lit nooks for people to hide, and enough space between these tables to offer some privacy.
“If this was a ballroom, wouldn’t that make this building a private home in the past?”
“Most likely,” Jax said.
They kept their conversation around observations to help paint an internal picture for the outside team. They were not going to risk being thrown out for photographing the interior of the space.
The rules of A Róka were relatively simple. No cell phones out. At all. No pictures whatsoever. What people discussed in the club was at their discretion, but no action happened inside their doors. No exchange of money—anywhere—with the exception of the front door. The bars were open, and the hefty entrance fee paid for not only drinks but information, if it was available.
No one believed for a moment that the people seen in the establishment would be kept a secret, nor was it some kind of “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” type of vibe. But it was a no-kill zone. How the establishment enforced this, Leo didn’t know. But he didn’t think it was by an escort to the street.
Leo and Jax attracted their share of attention, though Leo saw more eyes on her than he did on himself.
“Bartenders talk with everyone,” Leo said.
The two of them found open space at the main bar.
“Good evening.” The bartender set two coasters down with a smile. “What may I tempt you with tonight?”
Jax ordered a glass of wine, Leo a whiskey.
“I haven’t seen you here before.” The bartender was a man somewhere in his thirties and half the size of the bouncers at the door.
“It’s our first time,” Jax said for them.
The man poured her wine with a smile.
“Meeting someone?” he asked.
Leo accepted his drink. “We’re hoping to . . . in the future. Although I’m not sure if my acquaintance frequents this establishment.”
“Perhaps I can be of some assistance. I see a lot of people. Some who want to reconnect with old friends, and others that would just as soon be left alone.”
Leo leaned one elbow on the bar. “I believe I saw our old friend recently in Las Vegas,” he said.
Jax leaned forward so the V of her dress gaped just enough to promise an eyeful if she moved another centimeter. “This gentleman and I share the same alma mater in Germany. Perhaps you’ve heard of Richter?”
“Of course. A school as old as that has delivered plenty of patrons to A Róka.”
“How might we get word to our friend?” Jax asked.
The bartender smiled, his eyes drifting to Jax’s chest as he reached for a bar towel. “When was this visit to Las Vegas?” he asked.
Leo gave him the exact date when Olivia was shot.
The man reached for a token behind the bar and scooted it toward Leo. “You’ll have to show this to the gentlemen on your way out when you retrieve your coats. It is nonrefundable.”
The token looked like a poker chip. “How does this work?”
“In America they call it a tip. We respect the privacy of our clientele should they request it. As we would with you as well. Of course, I speak only on behalf of the staff. We have no control over the patron on the other side of the room.”
“Understandable.”
“If your classmate is unreachable or prefers to be left alone, you’ll be told we were unsuccessful in helping you. If there is a message, we’ll be sure and pass it on.”
Leo and Jax exchanged glances. Could it be that easy?
“You’ve been most helpful. Thank you,” Jax told him as she brought the wine to her lips.
“Of course.” With a smile, the bartender walked away.
“Let’s take a look at the architecture, shall we?” Jax suggested.
They moved around the room talking about the walls, the halls, and routes away from the main room. They found the restrooms and separated for less than five minutes.
People looked, but didn’t stare.
No one approached.
They exited and retrieved their belongings.
As instructed, Leo handed the doorman the token and received a similar one in a different color along with an envelope. Leo tucked it away in his coat and helped Jax with hers.
Sven was waiting on the street, the door to the back seat open.
Once they were inside and leaving A Róka, Leo relaxed. “That was easy.”
“It’s never that easy,” he heard Olivia in his ear. “What’s in the envelope?”
Leo removed it and tore the seal. The price tag to the information was revealed.