6
AFTER tracking down Lacey and buying the strip club where she worked and lived above, Suro had expected to have the upper hand when he next met the woman who had dared to not only lie to him, but also stand him up in Montana. But when he walked into the club with Dexter on hulking-black-guy duty beside him, he found a row of scantily clad and heavily busted women, none of which were Lacey.
“Where’s the manager?” Dexter asked Tony, the old goodfella they’d bought the place from. “I thought she was supposed to be giving us the tour.”
Tony pulled out his phone. “She had a last-minute emergency, but she should be back soon. Lemme text her.”
At that moment Suro’s own phone vibrated in his suit pocket. He pulled it out and checked the number. It was his son’s school.
Still not having said
