Dangerous by Default

26. Caine searches

The bouncer at Miss Queens smiled as Caine pulled open the heavy wooden doors and passed her a ten dollar bill for admission. With the ten dollar bill in hand, she pulled the top of her black dress to the side, exposing a saline-swollen breast.

"For another ten you get a squeeze before you go in" she said, her wide-eyed expression accentuating her cat-eye makeup that swept high up her face. He shook his head politely and walked past her to the dark wooden door on the first floor. She let out a disapproving squeal.

"Know where you are going? The show's upstairs." she asked over her shoulder. He knew where he was going.

Just a few short hours ago, Caine was sitting in the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art giving his statement to the police. Now, any thoughts about the ash heap of his museum retrospective were shoved far to the back of his mind. There was only one thought pounding through his head. He had already been to the lab and their apartment, and she wasn't answering her phone. I've got to find Mina. This was the last place he could think to look.

Inside the bar, a sea of hands poked and prodded his lower body as he strolled hurriedly through the crowd. "Hey daddy, want to take me upstairs?" the voices whispered to him. His eyes scanned left to right, ignoring them. There was no sign of her. The frantic pace of a disco beat pulsed from the soundsystem, making his jaw tighten anxiously.

'You make me feel...'

A young performer dropped her body into the splits on stage and the room erupted enthusiastically. Caine half expected to hear a gunshot ring out, the swirls of crimson and water flashing in his mind's eye. He felt his teeth ache under the pressure of his jaw.

You only feel danger when you're safe, he had to remind himself, breathing in tensely through his nostrils. But what about Mina?

'Miiiighty real!'

His mind bounced back to the museum again. The shouting, people fleeing, the police flooding the gallery floor. It happened in a heartbeat. The police arrived just seconds after Janus neutralized the armed caterer with a single bullet to the chest. In the wake of a few minute's terror, it seemed like Caine's entire world had been turned on its head. An acrobat and a staff photographer had plummeted two stories through the museum's atrium and were now in critical condition. An elderly man had fallen onto the bed of rusty used syringes. The chief curator of the SF MOMA had been murdered. Caine was nearly killed with his own gun. Not to mention just about everyone there had been traumatized - and not in the way most challenging art seeks to challenge its audience. He felt ashamed.

To top it off, Janus saw the button hat. She may know what it means. After giving his statement to the police with the promise that he'd appear tomorrow morning for formal questioning, he was released. He would figure out how to deal with the possibility that Janus had connected him to the danger stunts, and how to shield Mina from the backlash. The danger that she could lose her company over it was very real, now more than ever. They don't let the CEO of startups go traipsing around, doling out vigilante-style justice.

He pinched his own leg, swallowing these worries like a humongous pill. For now, his only concern was finding her. It had to be. Even if she would ever speak to him again.

Through the red haze of the bar, Caine felt a hand fall on his shoulder. He pulled back instinctively, turning towards the source with the intent of rebuffing an unwanted advance. Looking back at him was the bleary grey-eyed smile of the last person he expected to see at Miss Queen's. His anxiety cracked under a wave of relief at the sight of a friendly face.

"The artist is present," said Pechaude, slightly slurring his words as he pulled in Caine for a bear hug.

"You're Hercule Pechaude. It's nice to finally meet you."