“Sammy!” He placed the knife down on the cutting board and wiped his hands on the towel draped over his shoulder. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“We wanted to ask you some questions,” he answered bluntly. No point beating around the bush about it. “This is Dominic Rivas and Chapel Bridger. They’re from—”
“The Blackrock Pack.” Kiev swallowed visibly, his prominent Adam’s apple bouncing along the column of his throat. “Did I do something?”
“Remains to be seen,” Dominic muttered.
Sammy glared at him, then turned back to Kiev with a reassuring smile. “We want to ask you about the night my mom came to the club.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his gaze kept sliding back to Dominic. “What do you want to know?”
Since Sammy didn’t have the first clue what to ask, he also looked to Dominic.
Valerie had been at the club. She’d left for the airport with the relique. What more did his mate hope to learn?
“Just tell us what happened,” Chapel suggested. Sashaying over to the bar, she slid onto one of the stools and crossed one leg over the other. “Start at the beginning and don’t skip the good stuff.”
“I, uh, was in the kitchen?” His voice pitched, making it sound like a question.
Chapel flashed him a smile and nodded. “Go on.”
“I was in the kitchen,” he repeated with more confidence. “I was dropping off a tray of empty glasses when Valerie strolled in like she owned the place. I told her customers weren’t allowed back there, but she ignored me.”
Sammy sighed. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”
“When she went to Tim’s office, I didn’t think much of it at first, not until I heard shouting.”
“Tim?” Dominic asked.
Kiev flinched at being addressed directly and hurried to explain. “The new owner. He was yelling at her to get out of his club, saying she wasn’t welcome here.”
Ownership had still been in legal limbo when Sammy had left, so he hadn’t met this Tim person. Shame. He sounded like a decent guy.
“But you didn’t hear what was said before that?” Dominic asked.
He sounded calm, if maybe a little direct, but Kiev flinched again and shuffled a little farther down the bar. “Uh, no, I didn’t hear what Valerie said.”
“How did you know who she was?”
“She used to be a regular here. I guess she was friends with Chandler.”
“The previous owner,” Sammy clarified.
Dominic nodded. “I remember.”
He jerked his head up, a rush of warmth spreading through his chest and into his neck. He had mentioned his old boss once in passing during their conversation at the bakery. It had been such a small thing, a footnote, but Dominic had thought his words worth remembering.
“You said she was wearing the locket,” Dominic continued. “How did you know about it?”
“Chandler used to wear it all the time.” Kiev’s gaze darted around the room, and he rubbed a hand up and down his forearm. “I saw him use it once to summon Sammy.”
Turning to his mate, Sammy opened his mouth to confirm the information, but before he could form the words, the room erupted into chaos.
Dominic growled, a low rumbling sound filled with threat. Then Chapel echoed him as she launched herself across the bar, grabbed a fistful of Kiev’s hair, and slammed his face down on the gleaming surface.
Sammy yelped, shocked by the sudden violence, and started forward. He didn’t know exactly what he planned to do, and hedidn’t get to find out because Dominic caught him around the waist and hauled him off his feet.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, looking between his mate and the bar. “He’s telling the truth. That’s—”