A busy night, but Carol had it under control.  The lead bartender was more than competent, he was a wizard.  The trainee wasn't too clumsy, had a decent memory and was learning fast.  That left her a little time to do her real job:  Scanning the crowd for customers who might match the annoyingly vague description of the people last seen with the missing girl, and listen to the bable of the crow for hints that somebasy had at least heard of a roumnor of what had happened to her.<br/><br/>She was certain she hadn't been made as a cop, she had been a regular to the bar for years, was known as a rather butch good tipper.  Opinion was divided as to whether she was a lesbian, anybody who asked her out got a level stare in response.  Carol Neathawk's cover was very deep and had taken her years to cultivate and strengthen.  That level of security didn't leave much room for relationships.