Excerpt from Girl in Disguise by Greer Macallister, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

At last, another man rose from the booth and joined Blue Eyes, standing close to both of us. His hair was drenched with brilliantine, and his small, sad mustache was little more than a pencil line above his lip. "Boss wants to know what's taking so long."

"See for yourself," said the taller one, inclining his head in the direction of the culprit, who was hard at work pouring coppery brown liquid out of a silver shaker into six matching coupes. "Ragman's taking his sweet time."

The new arrival inclined his head toward me. "Looks to me like you're caught up in conversation."

"Heavens no," I said, pivoting my body toward his. "This clod couldn't make conversation if I spotted him both ends of the sentence. Are you more of a…talker?"

"I could be," he said with a wolf 's leer.

"Then perhaps I might join your party?" I smiled, but not too wide. Softly, sweetly. Let him think me a sheep.

"Sounds good to me," he said.

"No," said the first man.

"You're no fun," said the second.

"That may be," said Blue Eyes. "But no need for the boss to get distracted. There's business to be done."

"Aw, plenty of time for business when the sun rises," Mustache replied. "Tonight, I think he's more in the mood to celebrate, if you catch my drift."

"I like to celebrate," I said.

"I bet you do," both men said in unison, with very different inflections.

With much clattering and fanfare, the bartender finally poured the sixth drink and pushed the glasses across the bar. Mustache immediately grabbed one in each hand. The elegant stems looked especially fragile in his fists. He carried them over to the table, where his arrival was greeted with appreciative hoots.

I assumed Blue Eyes would follow, but instead, he grabbed my elbow sharply and growled in my ear, "What are you playing at?"

"What?"

"Walk away," he said. "Right now. Walk away."

"No," I hissed, but my heart pounded.

"All right, then. Come with me."

"I'll scream," I said.

"You do that," he said, cool as the far side of the pillow.

He was right. A scream would call attention my way, but what for? What man among these would rush to my side? I scanned their faces. Heck Venable and his crew were hardly the only wrongdoers here, and some were doubtless worse than mere robbers. First Eagle had been knocked over with no fatalities. There were things far worse than money to steal. I was likely better off taking my chances with Blue Eyes, as poor a prospect as that seemed.

Mustache returned for the rest of the drinks. "You helping?" he asked, clearly confused.

"Naw, you take 'em. I'll be back in two shakes," said the taller man, shifting his grip on my elbow around to the inside, so it looked less overtly threatening. His long, rough fingers moved over the delicate skin on my inner arm, and I couldn't suppress a shiver.

"Oh, I see," leered Mustache.

Annoyance crossed his face, but Blue Eyes said, "Don't drink mine. I won't be long."

"Sure."

I wished I could think of something to say to Mustache that would result in him getting me away from Blue Eyes, but my mind was a blank. I never should have taken such a risk. Never should have come here. I didn't even protest as the taller man hauled me to my feet.

"This way," he said, steering me up the stairs. I dragged my feet as much as I dared, and a new wave of terror swept over me. Upstairs was the hotel. That was a key reason Joe Mulligan's was particularly popular with the whores of Chicago: convenience.

His hand was locked around my arm like an iron cuff. He didn't relax his grip at all, even while using his other hand to unlock the door of a room that I assumed to be his. My throat was dry, and my head swam. Damn it, damn it. I'd disguised myself as a prostitute to crack the case, believing it the best, if not the only, way to achieve my aim. Now, unless a miracle happened, I'd have to choose between certain exposure and an unthinkable act. Blue Eyes was clearly expecting me to follow through on my disguise. Unless I wanted to give up all hope of ever gaining the confidence of Heck Venable and prying loose his secrets, I'd have to deliver on my unspoken promise and do what prostitutes do.

Excerpted from Girl in Disguise by Greer Macallister. Copyright © 2017 by Greer Macallister. Excerpted by permission of Sourcebooks. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.