“What does that mean?”

He glanced back at his truck to see his dog staring out the window at him as though he wasn’t pleased to have been left behind. “It means I’m here because I believe it was used in the commission of another crime.”

Dax seemed mildly surprised. “What kind of crime?”

“An abduction.”

“Really? Don’t tell me it was one of the dancers!”

“At the strip club you visited that night? No. Have you ever heard of Dr. Evelyn Talbot?”

“I haven’t.” Dax sounded completely confident in his answer but a second later looked a bit uncertain. “Wait, yes, I know the name. She runs that prison for psychopaths in Hilltop, right?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been thinking about applying there, as a correctional officer.”

Amarok decided not to mention the drug testing that would be required. “Dr. Talbot’s been kidnapped, and the person who took her was driving your van.”

He blinked several times. “Wow, no kidding?”

“No kidding. Does anything stand out in your mind about the night it was stolen? Did you meet anyone suspicious? See anyone eyeing your van after you parked it?”

Dax glanced at Amarok’s swollen and aching hand. “No one. There were some guys hanging out by the door, talking to the bouncer. But I didn’t think anything of it. There’re always a few smokers there.”

“The man I’m looking for has a scar on his face right here.” Amarok indicated his eye. “I’m guessing he was in some sort of accident, maybe a car accident where he went through the windshield.”

Dax’s face lit up. “Yeah, I saw that dude. I remember wondering if he was blind in that eye.”

“Could be.”

“Looked that way to me. He was one of the men who was out talking to the bouncer. I did a double take when I passed him and noticed that scar over his eye. Thought it was tough luck, since he would’ve been a fairly handsome dude otherwise.”

“Did you talk to him? Have any interaction with him?”

“No, but he had to be as tall as you, and he was completely yoked. I assumed he was a new bouncer, going through training.”

“What strip club was this?”

“Roxanne’s, down on Spenard Road.”

“Who was working the door that night?”

“Greg. He’s always there on Saturdays.”

“Did he seem to know our friend with the scar?”

“Hard to say. I got only a general impression of them.”

Amarok peered closer at him—or as close as his blurry eyesight would allow. “You’re not lying to me, right?”

Dax stiffened. “Lying to you?”

“You didn’t loan this guy your van and then report it as stolen when he didn’t bring it back so you could cash in on the insurance? Or sell it to him and then report it as stolen so you could get paid twice. Nothing like that?”

“God, you sound like my brother. No! I didn’t loan out my van. Didn’t sell it, either.”