Ruby at the dance club

Ruby stepped into the pulsating energy of the nightclub, the music vibrating through her body as neon lights flickered in rhythm with the heavy bass. The familiar atmosphere of the place sent a shiver down her spine, not from excitement but from the weight of her purpose. She scanned the room, her sharp eyes taking in the details.

Her first stop was the bar, where the bartender worked briskly, sliding drinks across the counter to waiting patrons. He was a tall man with slicked-back hair, his sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. Ruby approached, leaning slightly on the counter to catch his attention.

“Hey,” she said, her voice just loud enough to be heard over the music. “Did anyone turn in a missing ring? I think I lost it here last night.”

The bartender paused, considering her question as he wiped down the counter. “A ring, huh? Haven’t had anyone hand one in, but I can double-check. What’s it look like?”

Ruby described the ring, careful not to reveal too much about the circumstances. “It’s a gold wedding band. Simple design. Might’ve slipped off somewhere near the back.”

He nodded, his brow furrowed. “I’ll take a look in the lost-and-found later. But honestly, if it’s back there, you’re better off looking yourself. Nobody really goes near the hallway or that restroom. It’s out of service, and people steer clear.”

Ruby glanced toward the hallway he mentioned, the dimly lit path leading to the out-of-sight restroom where the events of last night had unfolded. Just as she was about to respond, her gaze shifted to the dance floor.

Her chest tightened as she spotted him: Jimmy. He was weaving through the crowd, his predatory demeanor unmistakable. At the moment, he was leaning too close to a woman who clearly wanted nothing to do with him. The woman shifted uncomfortably, glancing away as Jimmy’s grin widened, his body language loud and invasive.

Ruby turned back to the bartender, her expression darkening. “Who’s that guy?” she asked, nodding toward Jimmy.

The bartender glanced over and let out a dry chuckle. “That’s Jimmy. He’s a regular. Tips well, though, so we usually leave him be.”

“Jimmy,” Ruby repeated, her jaw tightening as the name settled into her mind.

The bartender’s nonchalant tone grated on her nerves. “You sure he’s not a problem?” she pressed, trying to keep her voice even.

He shrugged. “He’s a little… forward, sure. But like I said, he tips well. Keeps to himself most of the time.”

Ruby swallowed her irritation and pivoted the conversation. “What’s down that hallway?” she asked, tilting her head toward the dim corridor.

The bartender glanced at it briefly before turning back to her. “The out-of-service restroom. It’s been closed off for a while. Even the cleaning crew doesn’t bother with it anymore.”

Ruby nodded, her gaze drifting back to Jimmy, who was still harassing the woman on the dance floor. Her mind churned, weighing her options. She could confront Jimmy now, head straight to the restroom to search for the ring, or try to glean more information from the bartender or someone else.

The decision loomed, each choice carrying its own risks and consequences.