After the Blood of Olympus- Complete

Chapter 13 ANNABETH

By noon they had found themselves at Salt Lake City. They stopped by a Starbucks to pick up some coffee, when in happened.

Some random guy, about 25 or 30, got up in Annabeth's face, putting his fingers in the shape of a box in front of his eye and looking through it.

"Yes. Perfect. You are perfect," the man muttered.

"Um. Excuse me? Perfect for what?" Annabeth asked.

"Yes. You're perfect for the job. How would you like to be in a commercial?"

"Oh my gosh! I'd love to!"

"Great! Oh this is wonderful! I've literally been searching ALL DAY to find the perfect person for it!"

"Wait. Does it pay."

"Only A THOUSAND DOLLARS!!!!"

"What?! Yeah, I'll do it!! What is for?"

"It's a commercial about... culture."

"Um... okay..."

"Be at this address by 1:30," the man said, taking a slip of notebook paper from his pocket and scribbling something down.

And with that, the man casually walked away.

Annabeth looked down at the paper.

102 Wallace Road, Salt Lake City, Utah

*********

They had taken a bus to the address, and when it stopped to let them out, they received weird looks from some people, which confused them.

"Why are they staring at us?" Percy whispered to Annabeth.

"I... don't know..."

"Guys. Hurry up," Leo said from the back if the group," Let's get off this bus. This is to intense."

But when they did get off, they saw the problem.

The Hot Spot Strip Club

"What?!" Annabeth exclaimed.

"A strip club?"

"What's a strip club?" Hazel asked.

"Um... well.. Annabeth are you really going to do this? A strip club?"

"I didn't even know they put commercials for strip clubs on TV."

"There you are!" The guy they had seen earlier was running towards them.

"If you'd follow me, we'll get you out of... those," he pointed to her clothes with a disgusted look on his face, " and get you something more... strip club worthy."

"Um... I'm sorry. Sir, I can't do this. When you said "culture" I didn't know you meant a strip club."

"Well, sweetie, we thought it was obvious."

"Um, I can't do this."

"1 thousand dollars. Think about it. 1000. Just imagine what you could do with.. 1 thousand dollars!"

"Annabeth... we need to get Calypso out of jail," Leo whispered."

"Leo! Are you kidding me! I am not striping!"

"Oh come on, kid!" the man said, "you need the money,"

"He's right there," Frank whispered.

"Seriously! You can't be serious! I'm not going to strip, guys. We can find another way to rescue Calypso."

"Looks like you have a big problem," the man said, voice dripping with fake sympathy, "You should really help your friend. That's what good people do. You could just get the money right now... if you strip for me..."

"Really. No. I don't want OWWWW!!!"

It happened so quickly. A knife. Annabeth's leg. A disgusting wound. Blood dripping everywhere.

And the crazed stripper looked familiar. Too familiar.

True. Annabeth had never seen him. But something said who he was.

He was the murderer.