“I know Tammy. I called the police when she didn’t show up for work last Saturday. That’s not like her.”

“What can you tell me about Tammy?”

“She’s worked here for about six months. Friendly. Customers like her. Not like her to flake.”

“You’re a very conscientious employer.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Girls like Tammy come and go from hourly jobs like this one. You called her in as missing within forty-eight hours.”

“Like I said, she worked hard, seemed to keep her nose clean. I was thinking about offering her more work.”

Tammy had also been beautiful, and it did not hurt to have someone like her flirting with customers. “You two have something between you?”

“I keep the business and personal stuff separate.” He shifted his feet, rested his hands on his hips. “I don’t want to know what my employees do, and I don’t want them knowing my business.”

“It’s not a crime to date an employee. She was of legal age.” She leaned forward. “I’ll ask everyone in this bar if you two had a thing, if I have to.”

“Fine, we had been going out for a couple of months. But I don’t need that getting around.”

“Married?”

“In the middle of a divorce. Don’t need to fuel the fire.”

“Fair enough. What about surveillance footage?” Jordan asked.

“It goes back about a month,” Tate said. “Guess you want me to pull it?”

“That would be helpful.”

“That’s hundreds of hours of footage.”

“I got the time,” she said.

“My bookkeeper does all the computer stuff, and she won’t be in until later. I’ll have her call you when she has the disk.”

“Thanks. What’s her name?”

“Marian Dawson.”

“Great.”

“Do you really think Tammy is in trouble? I thought maybe she had started using again and needed help.”

“That could be the case. But I have a couple of Jane Does at the morgue. Tammy fits the general description. It’s a long shot, but she could be one of them. What about Sonya Jefferson?”

“She works nights. She was in last night. Has the next two days off.”

“You have her number?”

“I’ll have the bookkeeper send it to you.”

“Thanks.”

He shook his head. “Too many girls come here thinking it’s all going to be fun and adventure.”

“And it is, until it’s not.”

“Speaking of which, how’s your sister?”

“Sober. Living a good life.”

“One of the lucky ones.”

“So far, yeah. Thanks, Mr. Tate.”

Jordan left the bar and, in her car, started her engine as she stared down the block. Killers, like anybody else, were creatures of habit. They not only had their favorite types of victims but were also partial to murder methods and hunting grounds.