Ryan offered up a silent prayer of thanks that the back lot of Bait was across the street from the back lot of Betty’s business, Sassy Buns Bakery. That made for a relatively short walk on stilettos or, as she was going to call them from now on, death stilts.

She stared up at the huge commercial building, unimpressed. It certainly didn’t look like the area’s hottest nightclub. It looked like a massive, industrial-sized barn-slash-factory made of an eclectic combination of wood, brick, and steel. The parking lot was packed, which Ryan found surprising for a Tuesday night. The heavy thump of bass was just barely audible outside, like a vague heartbeat.

“Are you sure this is the right place?”

Betty laughed. “Yes, I’m sure. Wait until you see the inside.”

They joined a steady stream of people moving from the lot through the alleyway to the public entrance at the front. After seeing some of the outfits, or lack thereof, Ryan didn’t feel quite as self-conscious. When it came to clubbing, less was apparently more.

Energy built in the air around them, becoming more palpable with each step. By the time they reached the entrance, her heart was pounding and her anxious energy had intensified. This was so not her scene. She would much rather be lounging in yoga pants with a glass of wine, ice cream, and cake—in that order—while binge-watching an X-Files marathon. Then she took one look at the happy excitement on Betty’s face and pasted a supportive smile on her face.

The front of the club looked slightly better than the back. Massive double doors of black glass were flanked on either side by beefy biker types in suits, wearing shades and earpieces. Huge “hooks” hung downward from decorative fishing poles higher up, silently inviting lots of selfies while people waited in line for admission. Neon lights in blues and greens reflected and moved against the building, giving it a wave-like appearance and making her slightly nauseous.

Ryan suppressed a groan when she searched for the end of the line and saw that it extended down into the next block. It didn’t look as if her aching feet were going to get a respite anytime soon.

“Chill, girlfriend. We’re not waiting in that.” Betty grabbed her hand and tugged her forward, all the way to the front of the queue. “Follow my lead.”

Betty cocked her hip, thrust out her boobs, and offered the doorman-slash-bouncer a megawatt smile as she held out her driver’s license. “Hey, handsome. It’s my birthday. Can you get us in?”

The big guy glanced at her license then looked them both up and down. Ryan was sure he was going to send them to the back of the line when he nodded slightly and unclasped the heavy mariner’s rope gating the entrance. “Enjoy your evening, ladies,” he said in a deep, raspy voice.

Walking into Bait was like entering another world. A sea of writhing bodies covered the floor. Loud techno music with a primitive beat reverberated through her back teeth. Rich scents of money, liquor, and sex assaulted her nostrils. It was instant sensory overload. Ryan paused to get her bearings.

There were three levels, each wrapping around a central atrium that went all the way up to the roof. The top level was enclosed in mirror-tinted glass, which she found particularly interesting. The detective in her couldn’t help wondering what went on up there, then she realized she probably didn’t want to know, not unless she wanted to ruin Betty’s night by making a couple of arrests.

The second level had red velvet ropes blocking off its entrances, so it was safe to assume that was a VIP area. Railed balconies stretched out toward the center and boasted couches, chairs, and tables, all occupied. Farther back, she caught a glimpse of what looked like rooms. Some had heavy velvet curtains drawn. Others appeared to be public viewing areas, but she couldn’t see exactly what was drawing the small crowds. Given the rumors and the sexy vibes of the club, she thought she had a pretty good idea.

Ryan turned her attention back downward before she saw something blatantly illegal and was duty-bound to do something about it.

The bottom floor, where they were, was packed and standing room only from the dance floor all the way to the long bar that took up the far wall. Like outside, deep blue and green neon lights lit up the building, giving the impression of being underwater. Some of that could be attributed to the huge fish tanks lining the walls on either side of the bar, filled with colorful plants and sea creatures.

Panic began to arise within her, her fear of water making itself known. Her chest grew tight and taking a full breath became difficult. You’re not in the water. Don’t make a fool of yourself. You’re not in the water. It’s just an illusion.

Ryan closed her eyes and repeated the chant, taking deep breaths. She concentrated on the music and the people, on all the things that reminded her that she was safe and on dry land.

Unaware of her inner struggle—Ryan liked to keep her weaknesses to herself—Betty tugged at her wrist, pulling her forward into the pulsing throng. Part of her wished now that she had confided her fear to her friend, because Betty would never have brought her to a place like this if she had known.

Suck it up. You got this, Winslet.

Making their way forward, they weaved in and out of the dancers until they reached the bar. That, too, was packed with people ordering drinks and socializing. Surprisingly, they didn’t have to wait long before one of the bartenders, a muscular blond sporting low-slung leather pants and a puffy shirt unbuttoned down to the top of his happy trail, came by to take their order.

“What’s your pleasure, ladies?”

“Mm,” Betty hummed, her eyes sparkling as she took in the sexy swashbuckler. “It’s my birthday, so I’m going to have a Sex with the Captain.”

He winked and gave her a panty-melting smile. “Excellent choice. And you?”

“Club soda with lime, please.”

Betty pursed her lips. “Sorry, bestie, I’m invoking the birthday girl override.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“It is now.” She turned back to the bartender. “She needs an Island Affair.”

“One Sex and one Affair coming right up.”

While they waited, they turned their attention to the dance floor. Since the bar was perched on a raised dais, they had a great view.

“Come on; let’s dance.”

Between the flashing lights and the illusion of being under water, Ryan opted to keep her butt firmly planted on the bar stool, at least until her stomach settled. “You go. I’ll wait here for the drinks.”

Betty looked torn. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I just need a few minutes to acclimate.”

“Promise you won’t leave?”

While the thought had crossed her mind, Ryan wasn’t about to ditch her friend. Not yet anyway. If the night ended as it usually did, with Betty finding “the man of her dreams” and her feeling like an awkward third wheel, she was so out of there ... after she flashed her badge and got a screen shot of said beefcake’s photo ID and license. A girl could never be too careful.

“I promise. Now go. Shake your booty. I’ll be right here.”

Betty scampered off and was almost immediately swallowed by the crowd.

“What happened to your friend?” The bartender returned, placing both drinks in front of her.

Ryan whipped out a twenty, expecting to get change back. She didn’t.

“That’s twenty-seven fifty,” the bartender informed her.

Mumbling to herself, she fished another twenty out of her clutch and handed it over. “There better be a lot of top shelf liquor in these,” she warned him.

“Only the best,” the guy assured her. “I’ll be right back with your change.”

“Keep it,” she said on a sigh. Maybe by giving him a big tip now, he wouldn’t mind her taking up space without ordering anything else but water for the next two hours.

Grinning, he leaned over the bar. She was hit with a deliciously heady male scent that made her want to inhale more deeply. “You gave me a tip, so let me give you one. Relax. Have fun like your friend out there. You are far too beautiful to be sitting here alone.”

He winked again then moved on, no doubt to blow smoke up someone else’s heinie. Not that she didn’t appreciate the compliment ... but she did doubt the sincerity. Flirting was part of his job. Besides, it had been a long time since a man had shown genuine interest in her.

Ryan turned her attention back to the dance floor. Every now and then, she would see Betty’s bright red hair popping up, usually amid several buff male patrons, but none of them seemed to have captured Betty’s serious interest. At least, not until the tall drink of water came along.

Judging by the way people moved out of his way, he was well-known and important. Adding to that, he was extremely handsome in a bad boy sort of way and gracefully fluid on the dance floor. And he was exactly Betty’s type.

“And we have a winner, folks,” she said softly to no one in particular.

When Mr. Sex-On-A-Stick escorted Betty over to the bar a short time later, and Betty gave her the thumbs-up, she knew her presence wouldn’t be required for much longer. Betty would drag her to the ladies’ room soon and let her down gently.

“Ryan!” Betty said, her faced flushed and her eyes sparkling. “This is Q. Q, my BFF, Ryan.”

The man called Q gave her a sexy half-smile. “A pleasure.”

Ryan offered a small smile in return. “I’ll bet. What kind of name is Q anyway?”

“Ryan and I are going to powder our noses,” Betty informed him as predicted, grabbing Ryan’s wrist and pulling her away from the bar. “We’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with amusement.

“Squee!” Betty squealed the moment she and Ryan were inside the opulent restroom. It, like the rest of the place, had an underwater theme and was over the top in terms of décor. “Isn’t he positively sex-a-licious? And the way he moves ... Gah! I think I came a little on the dance floor.”

“TMI, my friend.”

“What about you? Any bites? Or did you just sit at the bar and watch everyone else have a good time?”

“I’m having a good time.”

“Yeah, I can tell. I’ve seen happier pusses at the DMV. You need to let loose a little, Ryan. You’re too pretty to sit on the sidelines.”

“That’s what the bartender said.”

Betty’s eyes lit up. “Oooo, now he’s a hottie. You should totally hit that.”

“I am not going to hit that,” Ryan said firmly. They guy was hot, but he was totally not her type. She preferred the quiet, serious guys, the ones who didn’t feel the need to flash their goods or flirt with every woman they saw. The kind of man who looked her in the eyes instead of her boobs. “And I’m fine, really. I like sitting on the sidelines. Besides,” she said, “we still have that cake and ice cream back at your place.”

Betty shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, about that ... Q offered to give me a tour of the VIP areas.”

“Oh. You should go.”

“Yeah? You don’t mind?”

“No. I think I can manage to hold out a little while longer. I mean, how long can a tour take, right?”

“All night, if he knows what he’s doing.”

“Betty, I love you, you know that, but you don’t know anything about this guy!”

“I know he’s rich, handsome, and has a really impressive package.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“I groped him while we were dancing.”

“That’s sexual harassment!”

Betty grinned wickedly. “He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, that’s what got me the private tour.”

Ryan shook her head. They had been friends long enough that Betty’s bold antics no longer surprised her, yet she was still disappointed they wouldn’t be having that cake and ice cream girl time. Looking forward to that had gotten her through most of the evening.

“Fine. Take your private tour. I think I’m going to take off, though, as soon as I get his info.”

“Stop being a cop for five seconds, okay? No ID check tonight. Q is one of the owners. He won’t be hard to find.”

Ryan frowned but nodded. If Q was an owner as he claimed, something she would confirm before leaving, there would be enough information filed with the township to track him down if necessary. “All right. Call me if you need me, okay? Any time, any reason.”

“Stop worrying so much. I’m a big girl, and I know what I’m doing.” Betty hugged her. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“You better, or I’m putting an APB out on both of you.”

Betty laughed. “Fair enough.”

They made it back out to the bar, where “Q” was waiting. Ryan gave bonus points to him for sticking around and not moving on to another woman in Betty’s brief absence.

“I can arrange a private tour for you, as well,” Q offered when they approached. His wicked smile suggested he could arrange a lot of things.

“Thanks, but no thanks. And just so you know, I’m a cop and she’s my best friend. If you so much as hurt her feelings, I will be back here, and not for a social call, get me?”

Betty looked slightly mortified, but Q laughed as he smoothly slipped an arm around Betty’s waist and drew her close. “Everyone should have such fierce friends. She is in good hands with me, I assure you.”

“She’d better be.”

As Betty and her new bad boy made their way over to the bank of elevators, Ryan sighed and looked at her watch. Barely eleven p.m. It looked like getting up early in the morning wasn’t going to be an issue after all.