Club Lure

The intense static of my police scanner startled me awake. It was after midnight when the alert came through. An unidentified woman was found slain outside of Club Lure, one of the hottest nightclubs in Westlake, Texas. As an investigative journalist, this was a major event for me. I knew that if I could crack the case before anyone else, it would improve my chances of landing an anchor position with Westlake News.

In a hurry, I threw on my torn jeans, my favorite band's graphic t-shirt, and jean jacket. Grabbed the keys to my 2017 Kia sedan and rushed to the scene. As expected, there was a crowd of people already there, being chaotic and cluttering the way of the police.

I forced my way through the crowd with my recorder in hand. I hoped I’d be able to catch the name of the victim or any details to help the case, but no one talked about the specifics. No one even knew there was any conflict going on until they were told to exit the building.

“I need everyone to stand behind the yellow tape unless you have a badge or an officer has asked to speak with you,” said an officer who looked like he was unfit to be police. “If you’re family or recognize the victim, step up to the tape and prepare to give a statement.”

Club Lure was owned by a man named Bentley Thomas, and as the rumors said, Bentley was a very dangerous man. If anyone crossed his path or got in his way, they were dealt with however he saw fit. But if you saw Bentley without knowing his story, you’d be intrigued by his presence. He’s a very handsome man with a lot of poise and more money than the state of Texas alone.

“Officer!” A woman shouted out as she pushed her way to the front of the crowd. “Excuse me! Officer, I can’t find my friend. Her name is Ivy Smith. Is that her?”

My heart leapt into my throat. Ivy was a childhood friend of mine, and she would never hurt a fly, so I didn’t dare believe that she was the victim.

“She’s wearing a green dress and green heels. Please tell me that isn’t her!”

The officer’s sympathetic expression confirmed both of our fears. The victim was Ivy.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the officer said as he raised the yellow tape for the woman to enter. “Please come with me. The detectives would like to speak with you.”

Tears swelled in my eyes as I watched the woman being led away, crying as if she’d lost the only person she cared for in the world. Ivy was a good person. One of the sweetest people you’d ever meet. It was hard to believe that night was the last night anyone would see her smiling.

I followed the yellow tape and got as close as I could to the lead detective. When I saw Bentley exit the building to talk with him, my eyes settled on how well he was dressed. His suit looked expensive and was tailored perfectly to fit his muscular frame.

He didn’t look like he was fearful or guilty of anything. But looks could be deceiving, and Bentley was rumored to be an experienced criminal. So I wasn’t sold on his calmness.

“Mr. Thomas, I’m detective Simmons. I’ve been told you’re the owner.”

 Detective Simmons leaned in to his interview with Bentley as I approached with my recorder in hand.

“That’s right,” Bentley said.

“Did you happen to know the woman who was killed tonight?”

"Yeah, I knew her. We weren’t extremely close, but I’ve seen her around.”

Bentley folded his arms across his chest, and I got a glimpse of the diamond studded Rolex he was wearing. The glare from the diamonds flickered against the light, making him appear a lot more sinister than I heard he was.

“Was she invited here by you?” Simmons asked.

“No. This is a public nightclub. Anyone’s welcome.”

He glanced at his security as Detective Simmons jotted notes on his notepad. The silent interaction between them put me on edge because, in my experience, body language often said what the lips wouldn’t dare to speak. It was a rookie mistake for Simmons to miss the subtle details that could have possibly been a lead in the case.

“Has she come here before?” Simmons asked. “I’m trying to zone in on whether she had any enemies, stalkers, or crazy ex-boyfriends.”

“Yeah. She’s been here a few times. I’m not always here to keep watch, but there have been times I’ve seen her here.”

Bentley stared sternly at the detective, who was nearly a foot shorter than him. Even though the severity of the situation was cruel and intense, I couldn’t help but find him attractive. The way he handled himself in the eyes of the law—so confident and graceful—made me want to give him a pass in more areas than one.

“Does that mean you were watching her the other times you’ve seen her here?”

Bentley cut his eyes at Detective Simmons question. It was a reach that I wouldn’t have tiptoed for so early in the investigation, but it did get a rise out of the possible suspect.

“What are you getting at, Detective?” Bentley asked sharply. “Are you trying to ask me if I’m the one who did this?”

“I’m just doing my job here,” Simmons chuckled. “If you're innocent and have nothing to worry about, a few questions shouldn’t get you rattled.”

After a few more questions, Simmons handed Bentley a card and told him he’d be in touch. Bentley watched him walk away with fire in his eyes, but a hint of worry underlined his expression. I couldn’t exactly read what he was worried about. So, before he turned to disappear into the club again, I dove underneath the yellow tape to ask him a few questions of my own.

“Excuse me, Mr. Thomas.”

He paused briefly and dropped his head in frustration. His demeanor said that he was over being questioned for the night, but he reluctantly turned to see what I wanted anyway. When we locked eyes, his immediate attraction for me could be seen by a blind man.

“How may I help you?”

As he stepped closer to me, the scent of his cologne rose in the air and engulfed me like a warm embrace. I was honestly speechless by how good looking he was up close and personal. He was a fine man from afar, but as we stood face to face, he took my breath away.

“My name is Justine. I’m a friend of Ivy’s.”

A moment of grief lowered his brows as he nodded.

“I was wondering if you knew anything about what happened. I’d like to give her family something other than bad news to hold on to.”

I tried to keep my voice friendly and full of concern, but it wavered with my emotions about Ivy and my attraction for Bentley. My reaction to his good looks was involuntary, for sure. I wanted to portray the heartbroken friend who wanted as much information as I could get, but my mouth watered just looking at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish there was something I could tell you. I hate that this happened at my spot, but I don’t know anything. I was in my office all night.”

“Well, do you have cameras on the building? Maybe they picked up something.”

“I do,” he nodded. “You’re welcome to come and take a look, but where the cops say they found her body is pretty dark. So I don’t know if my cameras will be much help.”

His voice was as smooth as silk. He reminded me of a radio host who played rhythm and blues during the midnight hours. I saw him as nothing more than a playboy with a dark past, but his words were so easy, he swept me off my feet even without saying much.

“Okay. I'll take a look,” I said. “Even if I can’t see a face, any little detail could help.”

Bentley looked me up and down with pure lust in his eyes. Before he stepped aside to let me into his world, he warned me that he wouldn’t be responsible for what I saw, if anything. I was sure his warning was because of the things he’d seen or done in his past, but I too have had skeletons in my closet.

“These are all the angles my cameras catch. The footage is grainy sometimes because of the glare from the street lights, but it gets the job done for the most part.”

I stepped into his office holding my breath. It was a very upscale and luxurious space, but I couldn't help but wonder how many crimes took place in it. How many bodies had lied on the floor, or how much drugs and illegal money sat on his desk?

Bentley was a well-spoken and high-class businessman, but the darkness from his past lingered behind him every step of the way.

“This is good,” I said as I approached the many screens that lined the wall. “Can you show me when she entered and when she left? If she came with someone, I might be able to recognize them.”

He came over to the control panel and rewound his footage. As we stood shoulder to shoulder, I let my eyes close and inhaled the intoxicating fumes of his cologne. I could feel his energy as he stood close. It was warm and vibrant, but still subtle and sweet. Very confusing since he was labeled as a menace to society. But as I said before, looks can be deceiving.

“She came with another woman,” he said as he pointed to the screen. “Whoever she is went to the bathroom not long before Ivy walked out. She walked in the direction of the alley where it’s dark, so I can’t really tell if someone was there waiting or what. I mean, they had to be if she didn’t leave the alley, right?”

“Is it possible to see who might have gone down it before her?”

"Yeah, I can check. But so many people walk by that alley, and with the glare, it’ll be hard to see which one went in.”

He was so attentive as he scrolled through his footage, checking for the culprit. To someone who hadn’t covered a dozen true crime stories, he may have been easily believeable. But I’m one hell of a skeptic. I learned long ago not to be too trusting because the one with the motive could be right up under your nose.

“Bent,” one of his security guards interrupted. “We gotta get going. We have that meeting before dawn, remember?”

Bentley scratched his eyebrow before turning to me. It was clear he wasn't ready to end the night, but whatever meeting he had to attend before dawn was highly important.

“Justine, you said?”

“Yeah,” I chuckled softly. “Justine Sky.”

“Alright, Ms. Sky. I gotta get going. But I’m having to get together this weekend. If you wanna stop by, I can d******d this footage to an SD card for you. I also wouldn't mind seeing you again.”

I smiled and shook my head at his audacity. We were in the middle of a murder scandal, and he wanted to see me again, for reasons I knew had nothing to do with Ivy. However, for the sake of my investigation, I fed into it.

“A get-together, huh?” I asked. “How do I know it’s not a setup to keep me from finding out what happened?”

He let out a heavy chuckle as he stepped closer to me. The thrill of not knowing his next move sent a chill down my spine, but it also made me throb where I was the most sensitive. That was a feeling I hadn’t felt because of a man in years.

"If I wanted to do something to you,” he said as he licked his lips. “Don't you think I would have done it already?”