“It would be my pleasure.”
His mouth covers mine, and he makes me his in every single dark, delicious way.
Everett reminds me about a lot of things, all of them good, all of them easy and right. Maybe the reason Noah and I had to work so hard at it is because we never really fit—throwing a wife into the mix will do that to a couple. But with Everett, there are no secrets, no pretense, no wife, no wily redheaded detective who works side by side with him—whom I’m positive was trying to steal my man. No paranoia. With Everett, you simply know what you get—one hundred percent solid beefcake of a man.
But do you get more than just a kiss? More than something physical?
Something deep down in my belly screams, sometimes, something physical is more than you can ask for—and perhaps all that you need.
Chapter 12
There are places I have visited in the name of my investigations that I would not want my mother to know about. There are very dark places that these homicide investigations have led me that my mother indeed knows about. The Red Satin Gentlemen’s Club is sadly both.
A while back Everett and I discovered that there is an illegal gambling casino in the bowels of this fine establishment. And in addition to that, we discovered that there is a naughty club within this naughty club called the Jungle Room where kink reigns supreme. My mother’s last abomination of a boyfriend, Brad Rutherford, happens to log quite the frequent flyer miles by way of utilizing the latter. He and his paramours made a habit of visiting the Jungle Room so much so that when he started dating my mother he took her for a kinky visit, too. I guess kinky habits really are hard to break. But not long after my mother kicked Brad to the kinky curb, she ironically found herself another man that makes me wish for Rutherford days gone by. A feat I would have thought impossible, but such is life at the moment.
Keelie, Meg, and I stare up at the stage, with its multicolor lights, and the metal pole that reaches the ceiling and spikes right through the stage looks like a menace, as if it means business. The music is at a comfortable decibel, not the jet engine levels it will be when the pros take the stage.
We were told to wear comfortable clothes, workout wear, and I complied by donning black yoga pants and a matching tank top. Keelie, however, has chosen a red sequin one piece left over from her ice skating days, no leggings, and, oddly enough, she fits right in with the other girls. Meg has donned one of her Madge the Badge uniforms, a copper number that looks alarmingly like a two piece better suited for back alley bondage, complete with cuffs around her biceps and chains dangling from her bare midriff.
It’s eleven in the morning, and the club has just opened. A smattering of waitresses have already lined up at the bar to collect their customers’ orders. Each one is wearing a sequin G-string with matching pasties, their hair and makeup full tilt glamour.
It turns out, Birdie’s classes run Monday through Thursday between eleven a.m. to noon, and if there are any patrons here at this hour, they are more than welcome to ogle the spectacle. More than half the seats are full. I glance to the stools that belly up to the stage, and I’m shocked that I recognize the three faces staring back at me.
“Oh my God,” I hiss, fully not amused at the sight before me. “Who invited the peanut gallery?”
Sure, Noah and Everett asked to join in on the fun, but I didn’t extend the invite to either one because—hello? Pole dancing! And the fact Hook Redwood is here will not bode well for the battling beauties I’ve brought along to help me through this traumatic event.
“I invited Hook,” both Meg and Keelie answer in unison before looking to one another with a scathing hatred buried in their eyes.
“Nice. And the others?”
Keelie shrinks. “I might have seen Noah and his wife walking their dog in front of Swift Cycle—oh, okay, I’m lying.” She growls at the ceiling. “I did a session at Swift Cycle, and Noah was there. I wanted him to eat his heart out, Lottie. I told him Everett would be here cheering you on, and I couldn’t make a liar out of myself.”
I glance back their way, and Noah gives a little wave while Everett glares at him.
“What was Noah doing at Swift Cycle?” I’m not really expecting an answer. My guess is getting ready to take Britney to Mangia for pizza. I don’t see why she shouldn’t be privy to our favorite restaurant. She’s already privy to so much else.
“He had some documents with him. I saw her go off to the side and sign them. Do you think those were the divorce papers?”
Meg groans, “Who knows, who cares? The dude is yesterday’s news. Lot’s got a new man in town. One with mean eyes and a mean body. I say onward and forward straight to the judge’s chambers.”
Keelie shakes her head. “You should test-drive Everett, then figure out who you like more in bed. So in a way, Noah still has a fighting chance.”
“I’m not a test-drive kind of a girl. I’m the give-your-whole-heart-away-and-watch-it-get-stomped-on kind of a girl. And I’m getting pretty darn good at it, too. Heck, maybe I can teach a class? I’ll have to pay my students, though. Everything is backwards in my life, so I don’t see why not.”
“Wah, wah, wah. Cry me a river.” Meg gives me a shove in their direction. “Suck it up, buttercup, and say hello. And then tell them to eat their hearts out because you’re a free agent. You don’t need a man to define you. Your life, your rules. They’d be lucky if they were included in it. And I’m with Keels on this one. You should be test-driving whoever the heck you feel like. No one breaks your heart from here on out. You’re the heartbreaker, Lottie.” She gives another firm shove, and I let the propulsion take me all the way to the three of them sitting there with a slightly guilty look on their faces. Minus Hook, of course. Hook looks ready and willing to take every girl in the joint on a test-drive.
“Well, look who the cat dragged in. Hook.” I offer a curt nod. “Nice to see you cheering on my bestie and my sister. Noah, Everett.”
Noah leans in. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”
Everett grunts, “Which I assured him you would be under my supervision. I’d kiss you for good luck, but I don’t think Fox could handle reality. He’s a bit tense.”
That’s putting it mildly. Noah looks as if he’s ready to bottle rocket right through the ceiling.
A young brunette in a pair of yoga pants and a sparkling pink bathing suit top takes the stage, and Meg and Keelie follow.
“That must be Birdie.” I can’t help but grimace as I study her for even a hint of pregnancy. “Either she’s carrying extremely well, it’s a condition she no longer is associated with, or that’s not Birdie. Anyway, wish me well,” I whisper as I hop up onstage and wedge my way between Meg and Keelie in the event pole dancing turns into fists flying. Hook seems equally smitten with the two, so really this could go either way.
The young girl extends her hand. “You must be Lola. I’m Birdie.”
Both Meg and Keelie groan at the mention of my faux moniker. I can’t help it. I have a bakery to protect and a pair of beautiful Himalayans waiting for me at home who wouldn’t care to hear such salacious things about their mother. Plus, I sort of like my new codename.
Birdie steps back and leads us into a series of easy stretches. I can’t help but notice that my behind is facing Everett and Noah, and once I start in on the forward chest lunges, I’m basically bouncing my bottom in their faces. Not the way I had envisioned spending my morning.
“Doesn’t this feel great, ladies?” Birdie’s shoulder-length hair falls like a curtain, her skin is a gorgeous shade of dark olive, and her eyes glow a celadon green. Her legs are so lean, her muscles sinewy, I can certainly see why an old pervert like Judge Shumaker would be attracted to her, but why would she ever pursue him?
“It feels like heaven,” I groan because it sort of doesn’t. Suffice it to say, pulling long hours at the bakery hasn’t allowed for proper stretching to take place in my life. “But it’s also driving home the point I really need to get in shape,”
I bemoan.
Birdie laughs as she straightens. “With the little one on his way, I have a feeling I’ll be looking to get into shape once again in just a few months.” Her hand presses to her nonexistent belly.
Meg scoffs. “You’re really having a kid?”
“That’s right,” Birdie beams with pride. “Just two months to go. The kid’s a real kicker, too.” She pats her flat tummy, and the three of us are frozen solid just trying to wrap our heads around this.
“Wow,” Keelie muses. “I hope I’ll look that great when I’m about to be a mom.”
“You sure can.” Birdie waves us over to the pole. “All it takes is spending six hours a day on this bad boy.” She gives the pole a whack.
“Six hours?” Meg takes an impromptu spin on the menace. “That’s it? And you get paid for it?”
Birdie is quick to nod. “Darn right. I’ve already outearned all of my siblings by a mile, and the year is still getting started. Stage dancing is great, but the bread and butter come from private table dances. That’s where the big bonuses come from.” She pats her belly as if her baby were a big bonus itself, and I’m pretty sure it was.
“How does your husband feel about this?” Okay, so I feel like a jerk even asking, but I need this to circle back to Judge Shumaker.
Birdie blows out an exasperated breath. “Are you kidding? He’s serving time in Knoxville for grand theft. But he’s not the baby daddy. You know what they say, while the cat’s away, the bird will play.” She gives a quick wink at her play on words. “I thought about divorcing Rich and marrying my baby daddy, but I’ve already got so many damn hyphens in my name, Birdie McBride-O’Dell—just the thought of adding another name to my driver’s license makes me want to vomit alphabet soup. Come to think of it, everything makes me want to vomit these days.”
My mouth hangs open at the odd confessional. So Birdie herself is a cheat. Is there no end to this chain of fools?
I shake the thought out of my head. “But what about the baby daddy? I mean, he’s got to be pretty psyched about the whole eighteen-year parental prison sentence, isn’t he?”
“Oh, he’s dead. Tragic accident, but we’ll be fine. My family is very close, and they’re very supportive.”
“I’m so sorry to hear it.” I glance to Keelie for help, and she clears her throat.
“So, do you think he left you anything in his will?” Keelie shrugs slightly my way.
Birdie laughs it off. “I doubt it. Let’s just say we weren’t exactly out in the open.”
Meg surveys the landscape. “Is this where you met him? I mean, it does look like the ideal place to land a man.”
I give her a look that says you’re kidding, right? She had better be kidding.
Birdie waves it off. “Please, nobody is meeting decent men with even better jobs in this place. It’s basically a den of destitution. I work for a service where wealthy men take hot chicks out on glamorous dates.” She says glamorous in air quotes.
A thought comes to me, and I straighten like a pin. The Elite Entourage! Of course! Greer Giles was his favorite pet, but it’s apparent from Birdie he had more than one girl from the agency warming his bed.
If only Greer were here. Where is that shifty specter when you really need her?
A luminescent being glides down from the pole, headfirst with her dark hair spraying out supernaturally and floating as if she were underwater.
Greer bounces to her feet. “Present and accounted for.” She leans in, her face glammed up enough to don a G-string and start earning her dead keep. “I could feel your need of me.”
“You could?” Personally, I’m shocked to hear it. I wonder if it’s always worked this way but the others weren’t able to share that knowledge with me?
“Could what?” Birdie asks as she hikes up on the pole.
“Nothing. I tend to talk to myself when I get nervous. Please feel free to ignore me.” Dear God. I’m going to talk myself right into a padded room if I’m not careful.
Birdie starts in on the lesson, which involves climbing and hugging that thin metal pole and ends with her thrusting her head toward the ground, her hair splaying around her in a dramatic sweep.
I step in close to Greer. “Have you seen this girl before—at the agency?” I whisper it so low I’m afraid the music drowned out the sound of my voice.
Greer takes a better look. “I don’t think so. But I didn’t know all the girls at Elite. I was more into the men, if you know what I mean.” Her shoulders do a little shimmy, and for a second I envision her doing exactly this with Judge Shumaker.
I lean in close. “Do you think anyone at the agency had it out for him?”
Greer rolls her translucent eyes. “Doubt it. My boss was too busy at the spa to care what her girls were doing.”
An image of Judge Shumaker’s name on that list I saw last month comes to mind.
“Your boyfriend, Tiger, he had Judge Shumaker’s name on a list. Do you think anyone associated with Tiger had a vendetta against him?”
Greer shakes her head emphatically. “Nope. Tiger only wanted couples. Judge Shumaker didn’t even consider his own wife a plus one.” She squints her strangely glowing gray eyes my way. “Have you talked to the merry widow?”
“Merry widow?” I give a quick glance to Birdie, who’s still intently twirling, before scooting in closer to my friendly ghost. “Do you know something about her that I don’t?”
She shoots a dirty look to the three musketeers sitting at rapt attention. “I overheard that detective you dated talking to some witchy redhead about it. I’d ask him for the lowdown.”
I suck in a quick breath. “You were spying for me? That’s brilliant!”
Greer is quick to deny it with a shake of the head. “I wasn’t spying for you. That’s not allowed. I was simply checking up on The Coffee Cake Break and shocked to see it turned into something better. I can’t believe I didn’t think of spin classes myself. They’re my all-time favorite. I even pedaled along with the rest of the class for old times’ sake.”
“What? You can’t do that. What if someone saw the pedals moving?”
“Relax, the only person who saw was the new owner, and she looked as if she swallowed a live frog. She was G-R-E-E-N. It gave her quite the scare.” Greer laughs so loud it echoes through the place.
Meg elbows me. “You’re up next, Lot.”
“Crap,” I hiss under my breath as I step up toward the pole and let Birdie teach me the basics. Soon enough, I’m high at the top and spinning my way down like a pro. Birdie even has me bending over backwards and tossing my hands to the waiting ground below while my thighs do their best to strangle that measly piece of metal threaded between them lest I break my neck.
“You’re a natural!” Birdie claps for me as I land back onto the stage with my feet rooted to it as if determined never to leave again.
Keelie offers me a robust high five. “We’re killing it! If we’re ever low on cash, we can just head over to Leeds for a little side gig.”
Birdie laughs it off. “Hardly. Most places like this have a waiting list of girls just dying to get a piece of the action.” She looks to Meg. “You were really impressive. Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”
A prideful smile glides over my sister’s face. “Let’s just say entertainment is entertainment. There’s not a very big difference between what I do and what goes on in this place. I bet at the end of the night, you wish you could slam some of these customers to the wall.”
Birdie’s shoulders bounce as she chortles herself silly. “Some of the customers here would pay a hefty sum for you to do it! Great job, guys. If you’re ever in town again, stop by and I’ll help you get to the next level.”
Keelie leans in. “Won’t you be taking off for maternity leave soon?”
Birdie brushes it off. “I’m working right up until the end. As a single mother, I’ll need every dime I can get my hands on.”
Keelie and Meg each shake her hand and co
ugh up the one hundred dollars she charges. I offered to pay for the three of us, but they wouldn’t hear of it. I pull my purse up off the floor and quickly do the same.
“Thank you, Birdie. That was a lot of fun,” I say, handing her the cash. “So your child’s father”—I wince as I dare go there—“can I ask what happened to him?”
She hitches her hair behind her ear, her eyes suddenly glossed over with what looks to be genuine tears. “Let’s just say he brought it on himself.”
My mouth falls open. “Did he try to break it off with you and ended up getting hit by a bus?” A bus with lots of knives attached to it.
Her chest bounces with a laugh. “Hardly. He was murdered a few weeks ago. The sheriffs haven’t arrested anyone yet, but I’m betting it was that wife of his. She wasn’t too thrilled when she found us.”
“She caught you?” I can’t breathe at the thought!
“Not only did she catch us, but she caught us in their bedroom.” Her cheeks turn a dark shade of cherry. “It was some sick fantasy of his to do it in his bedroom before his wife was due to come home. In a twisted way, I think he wanted to get caught. Anyway, she came down here and made a big stink about it. Tried to get me fired. She didn’t realize that I didn’t meet him at this place. But she was following me and figured it out pretty quickly. I finally had to sic my brother on her, and she’s left me alone ever since.”
“It sounds like you have a nice brother.”
“He’s the best. But don’t worry. I learned my lesson. The next time someone wants to take me back to their bedroom and their wife is due home soon, I won’t fall for it.”
A thousand different things beg to drift from my throat, but I opt for a smile instead. We part ways, and I jump off the stage, landing next to Everett and Noah. Hook is already plying both Keelie and Meg with compliments—as he should. I think.
“Lottie Lemon”—Noah gives a wistful shake of the head—“I have to echo your instructor. You really are a natural.”
Murder in the Mix Box Set Page 11
