Vengeance. Mystery Writers of America Presents B00A25NLU4

was just starting a lap dance for a table full of young professionals in suits and ties. The group cheered her on as she lavished attention on one of their comrades. Neither of these two women was his granddaughter, and neither was half as pretty.
    Earl considered the possibility that there were other young women offstage, in the dressing rooms or someplace. And from where he was sitting, he could see through parted curtains into the VIP room. It was currently unoccupied. It occurred to him that maybe it was India’s night off. But it was a Friday and more likely that all of the staff would be on duty. He waited. The waitress brought him his two glasses of water and Earl gave her a twenty without looking up.
    Earl sipped his water.
    “You want a dance?” a young blond woman asked, appearing over his shoulder. She was dressed in a sheer camisole and white lace panties. Earl waved her off without looking directly at her.
    He sipped some more water and watched the room for signs of India.
    Only minutes had passed when Earl noticed a man at the corner of the bar looking at him with interest. He was barrel-chested, balding, midsixties maybe, with a mass of dark chest hair showing through the open front of his Hawaiian shirt. Earl had the impression the man had been observing him for some time.
    He pretended not to see. He sipped his water, eyes turned skyward.
    But now the man was sliding off his stool and coming Earl’s way. This was Ray Tarvis, the owner. Earl was sure of it.
    The man pulled a chair close to his.
    Tarvis said nothing at first. Then he nudged Earl to get his attention. “Hey!” he said.
    “Who’s there?” Earl asked.
    “I’m the owner of this place,” Tarvis said. “I noticed you’re not interested in my girls dancing for you. You’re not here to drink. I’m wondering to myself just what the hell a blind man gets from spending twenty bucks for water.”
    “I like the music!” Earl said, swaying his head in time to the beat.
    “Yeah, well, you can get music a number of places, pop. But I don’t allow cameras in my club.”
    “Don’t intend to take no pictures,” Earl said. “How could I?”
    “Then what are you doing with it?”
    “Was a present from my sister. A little joke among us. I like the way it feels.”
    “Uh-huh. Well, we don’t allow dogs neither. I think you best go.”
    “You mean you don’t allow Negroes.”
    “If you weren’t fucking blind you’d see I keep a number of young black girls in my employ. I’m trying to be nice.”
    “Nice would be allowing me to stay,” Earl said, not backing down.
    “All right!” Tarvis said; his patience had run out. He rose to his feet, dragging Earl up by the elbow. “You can take your water with you. Just get out!”
    Melon suddenly came out from under Earl’s chair, baring his teeth and issuing a deep, sustained growl at the voice that had become threatening.
    “It’s okay, boy,” Earl said. “We’ve worn out our welcome, as usual.”
    Earl extended his cane and moved off toward the exit, tapping his way between the rows of tables and chairs. Melon fell into formation at his cuff and together they left the club.
    Tarvis followed them all the way through the door. He stopped just outside the entrance, next to the bouncer, and watched until Earl and his dog were inside the taxi and its door was closed. Then he smacked his bouncer upside the head and turned and went back in.
    Loretta was slumped far down in her seat behind the wheel. “He gone?” she asked.
    “He went inside,” Earl said.
    Loretta straightened. “Man told me if he ever saw me near his club again he’d kill me, no questions asked, and I believe him.”
    “He reminds me why I didn’t come back to this town,” Earl said.
    “Why I should be gettin’ out myself. No luck finding little India, huh?”
    “I didn’t see her.”
    Loretta turned worried eyes on him in the mirror. “Friday night, there’s only one other place she could be.”
    “Where’s that?”
    “The Atlanta boys’ club,” she said.
    “Boys’ club?” Earl repeated.
    Loretta threw a quick glance at the bouncer near the entrance, then turned to look at Earl directly across the seat. “I didn’t want to tell you this till I was sure . . . but I been worried she might not be here.”
    “Why do you say that? And why do you —”
    “Care?” Loretta said, finishing his thought for him.
    Earl studied Loretta’s eyes, the woman inside them. She was harboring pain, he