“What the hell happened?” I said.
“He was assaulted a block away. I don’t know how he got here, “ Anton said, “He said this guy came out of nowhere, knocked him down, and started kicking him.”
“This is related to the other night. There’s no way around that.” I said, kneeling on one knee in front of him. It had to be connected. There aren’t any coincidences, as far as I’m concerned.
Kyle was too shaken up to speak at first. He looked stunned.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Anton reaching into the cabinet on the wall for the First Aid kit. That kit had come in handy more times than I could count. Strippers ran into plenty of mishaps on the job, small and large. But other than falling on broken glass and slipping off the bar while dancing, being attacked by out of control patrons was one of their worst fears.
“Y-yeah…” he murmured. “You’re right…” Kyle’s voice trailed off.
“Can you tell me what happened, Kyle?” I knew he was hurting, but it’d be better to get the details fresh.
“Let him rest, Marco,” Anton said, deciding what he’d need from the First Aid kit, and clearing a place on the table.
Anton placed a pillow behind Kyle’s back, so he’d be more comfortable. Then he chose cotton swabs, hydrogen peroxide, and other items from the kit. Placing them all on a table, he got to work. Anton could only do so much with what he had. It would take time to heal Kyle’s body. But I was more worried about his spirit. If incidents like this kept happening, Kyle would eventually be worn down to a nub. I had to do something and fast.
“You should probably be at home,” Anton said. “How about I call Caleb and tell him I’m driving you to your place?”
“N-no. Ow! Don’t bother Caleb. He’ll just worry.”
“Okay, we won’t call.” I shot a glance at Anton, then turned back to Kyle. “The last thing you feel like doing is talking, but the only way we’re gonna make this stop is if you help me.” I hated pushing him, but I needed some starting point, some handle on the situation, if I had any hope of stopping it.
Kyle lay back his head and closed his eyes as Anton worked on him.
“Did you see who did this to you?” I tried being gentle. But there was no choice, I had to keep the questions coming until he remembered something.
“I don— ow!” He looked at me and winced. “I don’t know. I didn’t see his face.”
“Was it the same creep who bothered you at Bubbles?” Anton asked and stepped back to lean against the wall.
“Coul—sssst. That hurts,” Kyle said when he moved his arm. “Could’a been the guy. They were both tall and dark-haired. But I didn’t get a look at this guy’s face.”
“Do you remember anything else?”
“Like?” He closed his eyes and sank back into the chair.
“His clothes, things he said, the sound of his voice, the way—”
“Yes… yes. His voice. That was familiar. And what he said.” Eyes still closed, he tried remembering. “The guy who stole my g-string said the same things. So did the guy on the phone. That I’d better stop stripping. Stop embarrassing myself. Take responsibility for my actions. He said I’d ruined lives. Lives I had no business touching.”
“What did he mean by that?” Anton asked.
“I don’t know.” Kyle looked at each of us and seemed uncomfortable. “Like I told Marco, I think this has something to do with my family. I guess I’ve ruined their lives.”
“Got it. Because you’re a stripper.” Anton said.
“And… and he said something but…” A strange look came over Kyle. He closed his eyes tightly, but a tear squeezed out and rolled down his cheek.
“What is it, Kyle? What else did he say?” Anton hovered over him.
“He sa—” Kyle’s voice caught in his throat and he couldn’t get the words out. He tried sitting up but winced with pain.
Kyle’s physical pain and fragile emotional state put all of us on edge. Anton, tense and angry, looked around the room as if he had no idea what to do next. He hated sitting around waiting. He needed to be able to fix things, make things better. He was like me in that respect. But there wasn’t much either of us could do about this.
“How about some of your famous coffee? I could use some,” I said, hoping to keep Anton busy. He’d still be tense but he’d be occupied.
He reluctantly moved to the coffeemaker, rattled mugs and utensils, then left to get some water. I watched him walk out of the room, one hand holding the pot, the other clenched into a tight fist at his side. Senseless violence, especially when a friend was involved, bothered Anton more than most other things. I’d never yet discovered why.
Looking at Kyle and the state he was in, I wanted to punch someone out, too. But while that might feel good, Kyle needed someone to keep calm and to make him feel safe again. That was my job. I held Kyle’s hand and rubbed his neck. I got him to take a few deep breaths, which seemed to relax him. He eventually settled back into the chair again.
“If you’re feeling up to it, we should go over this again. I know everything must hurt right now. But while things are fresh in your mind, you may remember details better.” I couldn’t let it go, and he knew it. I was also sure he didn’t want me to drop the matter. He wanted this behind him.
Kyle sat up, cleared his throat, then drew in a deep breath. He looked at me and his eyes were filled with fear. “He told me that this was the last warning I’d get. That the next time, someone would finish it. That’s what he said. ‘finish it.’ I’m scared, Marco.”
***
Three weeks after Kyle’s beating, things at Bubbles had almost returned to normal. For a while, my dancers had been afraid for their safety and had gotten overly cautious while performing, but eventually they relaxed into old patterns and behaviors. Two new bouncers constantly patrolling the floor during shows didn’t hurt, either. The crowds kept filling the place, and Stan was happy with his overflowing cash box.
Once Kyle had been patched up at University Hospital and took a few days to heal, he found himself settling into his old routines at Bubbles. More wary, less trusting of anyone, and always making sure he was never alone, he tried to cope with his newfound insecurity until we found a way to figure out who was behind things.
I wasn’t crazy about Kyle’s return to work. Mostly I feared for his safety. But I also worried about my other dancers and what his return would mean for their safety and their peace of mind. If all my guys went into panic mode, there’d be chaos.
Kyle was relentless in badgering me to reschedule him, though. I eventually relented, but only because he’d been hanging around Bubbles every waking minute anyway. Besides, I thought it’d be better to have him where we could all keep an eye on him. Still, once Kyle started performing again, I kept my fingers crossed. I was sure his attacker would be back to keep his promise to finish things.
Even though Kyle’s situation was always front and center, I couldn’t keep all my attention on him. I’d reeled in quite a few paying cases, and I needed the money. Paying customers grease the wheels. So, I’d left StripGuyz mostly in Anton’s hands, though I was still in and out every day. He’d been wanting a chance to show me he could take charge when necessary. He also wanted to hang up his g-string and go back to school. Managing StripGuyz would fit his plans perfectly. It suited me fine. Anton was a good manager, the guys loved him, and I needed to spend more time on investigations.
Still ensconced in my office on Latimer, I hadn’t yet hired a new secretary. I went through all the hiring motions. But after two or three interviews, no one had clicked, and I dropped the idea. Maybe I was still feeling the pain and guilt that came with what had happened to Josh. Whatever it was, my front office remained empty with no one to act as a buffer when someone came calling.
I was thinking just that when I heard someone open the door and walk through to my inner office without hesitation. Anton, exuding confidence and grace, strode in and stood in front of my desk.
“I thought you were letting me handle things at Bubbles?” Anton said. Not whiny, not hostile, just matter of fact. He never whined or played the wounded party. He just got what he wanted in a no nonsense way.
“Anything give you the impression you aren’t?” I said. I wanted to get up and plant a kiss on his lips, but this wouldn’t have been the right time.
“For starters, Kyle is performing again tonight which makes almost two weeks in a row. Nobody else’s schedule has them on stage that many times.”
“I was surprised the kid wanted to come back to work. It was his choice. Having him onstage more frequently was something he and I decided on. He needs the money. Poor kid missed a lot of work after the beating.”
“There’s nothing poor about him. I wish I had the trust fund he’ll be getting.”
“Not till he’s thirty. He can’t live on air until then. And I didn’t mean ‘poor’ in that way,” I said. “He’s been through a lot. Maybe working distracts him from his problems.”
“Seems to me that working as a stripper is what causes all his problems. We all know this. We all heard him tell us what that guy said. I can’t understand why he’d come back. Or why you’d let him.”
“There’s more to your anger, right?” I said and watched Anton pacing like a tiger in front of my desk. He seemed on edge, ready to pounce.
“Damned right, Marco. All the guys are complaining. Kyle is getting more time on stage than anyone else and they need the money even more. That goes for me, too.”
“It’s just that—”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you and Kyle had something going. Are the two of you…?” His voice trailed off into a disappointed sigh. I felt a pang of guilt for no reason. We hadn’t made any promises to one another, and I wasn’t fooling around with Kyle. But my Catholic upbringing had instilled a guilt factor that just wouldn’t go away.
“There’s nothing going on between us, Anton. Kyle wouldn’t want that even if I did, which I don’t.”
“Well why favor him so much?” He sat in a soft chair in the corner looking like a lost kid. A tall, muscular lost kid. I wanted to hug him.
“I’m not exactly favoring him.”
“Things were okay before. But this new schedule has made things worse. The other guys are talking about him… and you. They resent him now. They didn’t before.”
“How serious are we talkin’ here? Do I need to get involved?” I closed a folder on my desk and leaned forward to stare at Anton.
“I don’t think so. But keep me in the loop. Let me know what the hell is going on. I can handle the guys, if I know what the story is. And you haven’t told me the truth yet.”
“Okay. But what I’m telling you stays here. Got it?”
“When did I ever reveal secrets?”
“Don’t let me get started.” I smiled as innocently as I could. “I’m letting Kyle dance as often as he wants for a reason. Two reasons, actually. One, I get to keep an eye on him without having to babysit him or hire a bodyguard. Keeping him at Bubbles makes things easier all around.”
“Makes sense. What’s the other reason?”
“Kyle wants to smoke the guy out. He intends to bring on whatever that guy wants to do next. Maybe we can stop him in the act and settle everything.”
“Sounds crazy. Not to mention dangerous. The guy could really hurt Kyle.”
“It was Kyle’s idea. He’s willing to risk it.”
“But you aren’t with him around the clock. He goes home sometimes. He’s got a life outside Bubbles. Besides, he didn’t get beaten while he was on the job.”
“All true. I got Kevin to agree to walk Kyle home and then pick him up again when he leaves his place. That’s as much as he’ll let us do. Kyle wouldn’t stand for a bodyguard round the clock. But he’s happy with Kevin and the arrangement we made.”
“Okay,” Anton said, a hint of doubt in his voice.
“Kyle can be pretty stubborn. Reminds me of another blond dancer I know. He refuses to stop dancing because of the threats. Kyle claims that if he quits, they win. And, he never finds out the truth about who exactly is behind the attacks.”
“Like he told us, it’s probably his family. It makes sense. You don’t have to be a P.I. to figure that out.”
“That’s what he thought at first. But now he feels more confused. His family doesn’t like what he’s doing, but he just can’t imagine them going this far to stop him. If the plan works and it turns out his family’s behind this, he’ll have the goods on them. He’s talking about a lawsuit.”
“A lawsuit, huh?” Anton said, with more than a little distaste. “I like Kyle, but sometimes it feels like he’s all about the money. How could you be interested in a guy like that?”
“Who said I was interes— Anton, you’re—” I stood up and took him in my arms. “I’m not interested in Kyle. I don’t have space in my life for a relationship right now.” He felt good in my arms, and I wanted to hold him and keep him close. But we both knew this wouldn’t work. At least not for the time being.
“I know you aren’t fooling around with Kyle. But your dancers think you’re playing favorites. As far as they’re concerned, there’s only one reason you’d do that.”
***
That night at Bubbles, Kyle didn’t show. Kevin told me he’d walked Kyle back home the night before but had never received a call from Kyle to meet before coming in for his set.
“Have you heard from Kyle?” I asked Caleb, who was scrutinizing himself in a full length mirror. Caleb may have been new at this work, but it never took long for the new ones to learn what they had to do to maintain themselves to be successful strippers.
“I spoke to Kyle this morning. He said he needed some time alone. He does that once in a while. He spends a lot of time thinking. And he takes off at the strangest times. Sometimes I don’t see him for a day or two.”
“It’s not like him to blow off work, though. He’s never done that before,” I said. I took out my cell phone and called his apartment. There was no answer. “I think I should get over to his place just to make sure.”
“You think something’s wrong, don’t you?” He stopped primping and stared at me, his baby face a mass of worry.
“I don’t know, Caleb.” I moved toward the door and placed a hand on Anton’s shoulder as he got ready for his set. “Put your clothes on, Anton. We’re going out.”
“But my second set—”
“I’ll make it up to you.” I pulled my jacket on.
“Promise?”
“Promise. Let’s get going.”
“I’m coming, too.” Caleb said.
“No, somebody’s got to stay and work. The customers will get testy if there’s nobody dancing on the stage.” I shot him a look over my shoulder as we left. The worried expression on his face said it all.
We hoofed it over to Kyle’s apartment on Walnut Street not far from Bubbles. The cool night air caused Anton to shiver and he drew closer to me as we walked. It wasn’t even midnight, the streets should have been lively but things were way too quiet. Even on an off night, a lot of guys pounded the pavement going from one bar to another searching for the elusive. Things hardly ever slowed down until after three or four in the morning.
“You couldn’t get him on the phone?” Anton asked. “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything, does it?”
“Ordinarily that wouldn’t mean much.” This was anything but ordinary. I had a feeling things wouldn’t be good. “Now, I’m not so sure.”
Anton gave one look at the apartment building Kyle called home and groaned. “This is a dive. I had no idea he lived here.”
The smeary glass doors of the front entrance were unlocked. There was no front desk and no security of any sort. The lobby smelled like old socks and stale beer. I reflexively held my breath. After punching the elevator button, we both watched the number display slowly mark the progress of the elevator as it slipped down to the lobby.
The battered e
levator took even longer going back up to Kyle’s floor. Once we reached the floor, we stopped in front of his door and we looked at one another as if to say “Now what?”
I pressed the buzzer, then knocked. No answer. We waited again.
Placing my ear to the door, I heard nothing inside the place. I knocked again, harder this time. I didn’t understand why, but I knew that Kyle was there and needed our help.
“Kyle!” I pounded on the door causing someone’s dog to start barking and howling. “Kyle, open the door!”
“Give it a—”
I didn’t wait for Anton to finish. I brought my foot up and smashed the door open. The lock was only meant to keep out the casual burglar, not to withstand even a mild assault. Wood splintered and clattered to the floor. The door swung open with a creak. Everything went silent. Even the dog stopped barking. No one popped their head out of their door to see what the racket was. Great neighbors.
Signaling Anton to stay back, I moved cautiously into the room. I felt the wall for a switch and flicked it up. The yellow glow of a lamp filled the room. I couldn’t quite believe Kyle lived in the shabby little apartment. A lumpy couch with stuffing flooding out of a tear on its side, a wooden chair with so many cracks it looked ready to collapse, and milk crate shelving filled with paperbacks comprised the bulk of the furniture. A threadbare oriental rug was bunched up near the wall. A lamp had been toppled and lay on the floor near an overturned glass, its clear contents puddled out in front of it.
I indicated with my hand that Anton should follow, but I put a finger to my lips to keep him from saying anything.
We moved toward the bedroom, passing the microscopic kitchen along the way. The sink, piled with dishes, gave a delighted cockroach plenty to inspect.
The stillness made my flesh crawl, but I kept moving, dreading what I might find. Anton stayed close behind.
The bedroom door was closed. I put out a hand to turn the knob.
“What if he’s—?” Anton whispered hoarsely. He gripped my shoulder.
“We don’t have much choice.” I said as gently as I could. I knew this wouldn’t end well, but we’d come this far. “Kyle might need our help.”
Crimes on Latimer: From the Early Cases of Marco Fontana Page 14
