Five
About a week later, as the employees shuffled in for the evening shift, Whistle called them into the office, one by one, for a “conversation.” As everyone milled around the bar, joking as they set the place up for happy hour, Tasa threw Jazz a worried look. “Are you sure everything’s alright?”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about. There’s a problem, but it began before you started, so he doesn’t suspect you. What would be suspicious is if Whistle didn’t bring everyone in for a little one-to-one chat,” she murmured discreetly near her ear.
Tasa stilled.
“What is it?” she hissed. If there was a problem, she needed to know ASAP. No way did she want attention thrown on the bar, especially not by the police.
“Can’t tell you the details, but someone’s not playing nice.”
Fidgeting with t
