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“He had dark hair and light eyes. I couldn’t tell what color they were, but either blue or green, I think. Maybe gray. He was nicely built.” Her expression grew salacious. “Muscular. And he had one of those strong, square jaws like you expect to see in guys from the military or the police.”
“How old?”
Her face scrunched in thought. “Maybe in his thirties. I didn’t pay a heap of attention. I only noticed him because it was unusual that Sasha wasn’t dancing, and also… I wouldn’t have minded taking a bite out of him.”
Hanson made a sound of disapproval.
Sapphire rolled her eyes. “Anyway, hope that helps. I’d better get back.”
“It does,” I assured her. “Thanks for telling us.”
She bobbed her head and jogged back up the stairs. Hanson and I took the stairs to the bottom and exited onto the streetside.
“At least we know she had a boyfriend now,” Hanson said as we headed for the squad car.
“Someone who was the jealous type,” I added. “We can assume the baby was probably his, although whether he knew about it is another matter entirely. What do you make of the other guy Sapphire mentioned?”
Hanson shrugged. “It’s something to go off. I doubt it’s enough for us to get a warrant for the club’s cameras so we can identify him though, and there’s no way Keenan is letting us see the recordings without a warrant. Not if the rumors are true.”
“Mm.”
“Maybe she was dating a mobster.” Hanson pushed a button on the key fob to unlock the car. “Since they supposedly run this club and all.”
Mobster.
I gasped as an image flashed into my mind.
A handsome dark haired, green eyed, square jawed man in his thirties. One who fit Sapphire’s description perfectly.
My not-husband.
Hanson was staring at me, concern scrawled across his brow. “You okay?”
“I need to check something,” I breathed. “Wait here.”
I rushed back into the club, up the stairs, and over to Sapphire. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t run. I stopped in front of her, opened my phone and sifted through photographs until I found what I was looking for.
I showed it to her. “Is this the guy you saw talking to Sasha?”
She leaned over to get a better look. “I couldn’t say for sure, but I think so. Who is he?”
I ignored her question. “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”
I walked away, my mind reeling. Our dead woman had been chatting with West.
Why?
I stumbled down the stairs on autopilot, searching through a mental Rolodex of reasons why they might have any cause to know each other. If he’d been investigating the mob and she worked at a mob business, then perhaps he thought she could help him.
I wasn’t even going to think about the fact my so-called husband had been at a strip club frequently enough that one of the dancers was able to describe him well enough for me to identify him.
“What’s wrong?” Hanson asked as I opened the passenger door and slumped inside. “You’re white as a sheet.”
I grimaced. “I needed to use the bathroom. Must have eaten something off.”
He cringed but didn’t ask anything further. Just as well. I wasn’t sure how to explain the fact that my husband had just become a person of interest in our homicide investigation.
10
