by B A Trimmer
The Beach Club is a notch down from the glamour clubs of Scottsdale, but the drinks are cheaper and you can park without using a valet. It consists of a cavernous room with a high ceiling, a big dance floor, and a bar stretching the entire length of one of the walls. It is famous for having forty-five different beers on tap. Of course, being so close to the University, the crowd is inevitably several years younger than the clubs in Scottsdale.
I walked in and looked around for Sophie and Gina. They weren’t in the main room, so I walked out the back of the main building and onto the large outdoor patio. I always prefer the patio whenever I come here. There are two bars, a stage, several flickering Tiki torches, and a big fountain that splashes in a friendly way. It’s a little quieter than inside and a lot more pleasant.
I found Sophie and Gina sitting at a table against a white wall, next to the trunk of an enormous royal palm tree. There were three full drinks in front of each of them. I slid into an empty chair and they each handed me a drink.
I turned and looked around the patio. “Is it me or do the guys here look younger than last time?”
“Sorry girlfriend,” Sophie said. “They stay the same, you’re just maturing.”
“I hear you met the two Russians I’ve been looking for,” Gina said.
“I wouldn’t exactly say met. They sort of ran into me and invited me up to their place.”
“Any ideas on who shot up their car?” Gina asked.
“Not a clue, but I owe somebody big time. The Russians are still looking for the missing bag. They think I know where it is.”
“Wow! Do you?” Sophie asked, concern on her face.
“Not as far as I know. How close are you to finding it?”
“Not very,” Gina said. “The bag was switched a week ago and all I have to go on is a piece of grainy video. What I’ve found out so far is the two guys who threatened you were Russian Mafia bodyguards for the Courier, that’s what everybody is calling the little guy in the middle on the videotape. The bodyguards are still out looking for whoever switched the bag, so they’re accounted for. The courier’s a no-show.”
“As in, he’s disappeared?” Sophie asked.
“Yeah. Everyone I talk to gives me a different answer on where I can find him. I get the feeling I’m getting the runaround at the resort. I’ve been chasing my tail all day.”
“On the tape there was some big commotion right before the switch. Did you find out what that was?” I asked.
“I was lucky there. I talked to a bellman who was working at the time. A woman wearing a red string bikini had just come in from the pool. She was walking through the lobby when she apparently tripped over a chair and somehow lost her top. She had a hard time getting it back on, so naturally every guy in the lobby came over to help her, or at least get an eyeful.”
“That sounds like a diversion,” Sophie said. “Did you find out who the woman was?”
“Nope, the bellman just remembers her as a tall brunette with huge breasts and great tan lines.”
“Well, Jeez, that’s not very helpful,” I said. “That describes half the women in Scottsdale.”
“Yeah,” Sophie said. “The other half are blonde.”
“Did the bellman see the guy who did the switch?” I asked.
“No,” Gina said. “Nobody remembers anything other than the brunette and her boobs.”
“Were there any other camera angles of the lobby when the bag was switched?”
“Don’t know yet. That’s next on my list tomorrow. Somebody named Milo is delivering copies of all of the security tapes made that day. He should have them to the office by 10:00.”
“Milo?” Sophie asked. “Is he hot?”
“How should I know?” Gina said. He’s probably just another goon.”
“I don’t know,” Sophie said. “That goon who kissed Laura was damn fine. Maybe they’ll send over a hottie for me too?”
“Everything’s revolving around the bag,” I said. “Did you ever find out what’s really supposed to be in it?”
“No, I don’t even have a good idea what it looks like. The official story is still money, documents, and computer disks,” Gina said. “I get the feeling there’s more to it, but so far everybody is being very closed-mouthed. The higher up I go, the less they seem to know about it. It must be something pretty big.”
~~~~
We talked until midnight. I had my keys out of my bag and was getting ready to go when the waitress brought over three more drinks. “From the table over there,” she said and pointed.
The table was behind me, so I let Sophie and Gina look.
“Well, anything worthwhile?” I asked.
“Yummy,” Gina moaned. She began biting her lower lip.
“Ooooohh,” Sophie moaned. Her lips puckered.
I turned to look. The drinks came from two boys who looked barely old enough to shave. They were smiling and holding up their beers. I turned back to look at Gina and Sophie. They were both holding up the drinks and waving.
“You can’t be serious,” I said. They look like they’re still in high school. They probably snuck in here. You should go for older guys, you know, the ones with money.
“Don’t think of them as young,” Gina said, still waving. “Think of them as vigorous.”
“Yeah,” Sophie said, “vigorous, good stamina.”
“Hey,” I said. “The other day we were talking about that eighteen-year-old who was trying to seduce you. Didn’t we agree that was way too young? Didn’t you say it was gross?”
“Oh sure,” Gina said. “Eighteen is way too young, but twenty-one is completely different.”
“Oh yes, completely different.” Sophie said, her face taking on a light pink glow. It’s like you said the other day, these boys could pleasure us all night long.”
“Well, I can’t fight against your liquored-up libidos,” I said. “Just do me a favor and make sure they’re legal. Check their IDs before anything happens.”
“Hey Laura, good advice,” Gina said, staring at the boys, slowly running her tongue over her lips.
“Yeah, umm, I’ll keep it in mind too,” Sophie said, absent-mindedly fluffing her hair.
I stood up and waved the two guys over to our table. They came bouncing over like two puppies.
“Boys,” I said. “This is Gina and Sophie, they’ve been drinking, and they’re not as young as they used to be, so please be gentle with them tonight.”
The boys sat down. Gina waved good-bye, and Sophie blew me a kiss. Smiling, I just shook my head and headed out to my car.
~~~~
At twenty minutes after midnight, Danica came out of the stage door and spotted me in my Honda. She smiled and gave me a little wave. As she walked over, I got out and stood next to my car. During the night, the temperature had dropped into the upper 50’s. Being a seasoned Scottsdale girl, I had put on a thick jacket.
“Alex’s place isn’t far,” Danica said. Did you want to go in one car?”
I was about to say no, when I saw she was pointing towards a blue Porsche 911 Carrera, parked four spaces over from my Honda.
“Is that your car?”
“Yeah, I got it a couple of years ago. It’s really fun to drive.”
Jeez, how much money do you make by taking off your clothes?
OK, so I’ll admit it. I didn’t want to pass up a chance to ride in the Porsche. I locked the Honda and walked around to the side of her car. Danica beeped the remote and unlocked the doors.
There is something wonderful about climbing into a Porsche. The black leather seats seemed to wrap around me. It felt like sitting in a big soft hand.
Danica started the motor and the car trembled with energy. Personally, I don’t think I could ever have a car this fast. I’d be too tempted to do eighty or ninety down every quiet country road I came across. I wouldn’t be able to help myself and my insurance company already hates me enough as it is.
“You’d better put on your seatbelt,” Danica
said. “I drive sorta fast.”
“Don’t you get tickets?” I asked. “A car like this practically calls out for the police to stop it.”
“Well, I get stopped a lot, but they never give me tickets. I guess I’m good at talking my way out of them.”
You don’t get tickets?
I mentally chalked up one more reason to be a beautiful sexy woman.
With the engine giving out a low powerful growl, we pulled out of the parking lot and headed up Scottsdale Road to Alex’s apartment.
“I love your car,” I said. “Now, you don’t have to tell me, but I’m curious. How much do you make dancing?”
“Well, I make about $800 a night in salary and tips, but between taxes and what the club takes it knocks down what I get to keep. Lately I’ve been clearing about $500 a night. Being Miss November last year helped give me some recognition.”
I did a quick calculation in my head. $500 a night was $2500 a week. Multiplied by fifty-two weeks gave $130,000 a year, and that’s after taxes.
Damn, I’m in the wrong business.
Danica looked over and saw what I was thinking.
“Yes, the money’s good, but it’s not easy. I’m always on a diet. I have to work out five days a week. I also go to the dermatologist once a week. When you dance for a living, getting a zit is a disaster.”
I guess there are plusses and minuses to everything.
“Alex seems to have come into a lot of money recently,” I said. “Did he tell you where it came from?”
“He said his grandmother had released some of his trust fund. But I’m not sure if I believe that. From what he had told me, his grandmother was holding off giving him anything until he turned thirty. Then you came and said he was selling things and was being followed. It seems like the money and the sales must be related to Alex being missing.”
After that we drove in nervous silence. We were driving through a retail district, about three miles from Alex’s apartment, when I saw something out of the corner of my eye.
“Stop the car!” I yelled. Danica obliged by slamming on the brakes, throwing us both forward. I turned my head to look down a street we had just passed. Danica saw it at the same time.
“Alex’s car! I know it’s his,” Danica yelled.
She pulled over to the curb and started to take off her seatbelt.
“Stay here,” I said. “Let me at least see what we’re dealing with.”
I looked over to see if Danica understood. Her eyes were wide and she was breathing hard, but she nodded. I opened the car door and got out. The wind had started to pick up and I zipped up my jacket. I had my LED penlight out of my purse.
“Oh God, please don’t let Alex be dead. Please don’t let Alex be dead.” I walked up to the car repeating the words. It was as if just saying the words would keep anything bad from happening.
I got to the car and shone my light through the window and onto the front seat. No Alex and no other dead bodies visible. With my heart pounding, I angled the light around to look in the back seat.
“Is he there?” yelled a voice directly behind me.
I jumped so hard I almost wet myself. I turned and snapped at Danica, who was standing less than three feet from me. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” My heart was pumping so hard I felt my head pulse with each rapid beat.
“Sorry,” Danica said in a small and shaky voice. “I couldn’t wait. Is Alex in there?”
“Not that I’ve seen so far. As long as you’re here, let’s look on the inside. Do you have keys to his car?”
With a trembling hand, Danica pulled out a set of keys. She used the beeper to unlock the doors.
I opened the driver’s side door and looked in. The car was spotless. I then walked over to the passenger’s side, opened the door, and sat down. The glove compartment was empty except for the registration and the owner’s manual. I used the button in the glove compartment to unlock the trunk. With a click, the trunk lid popped up an inch.
Danica went around to the back, but didn’t seem in a hurry to open the lid. I was climbing out of the car, when I saw a yellow CD case on the floor between the passenger seat and the door. There wasn’t any writing on the case. I opened the case and took the disk out. I turned it over, but there were no labels or writing anywhere on it. I couldn’t tell if it was a CD, a DVD, or even a Blu-Ray. It appeared to be a homemade recording.
“Danica,” I asked. “Does Alex have a CD or DVD burner?”
“No, but I know he wants one. I think he wants it to copy some of my old CDs. He loves music, he just doesn’t like paying for it.”
I shoved the disk into my coat pocket. I then walked around to the back of the car. Danica was just looking down at the trunk lid. I knew what she was thinking. Alex could be in there. And if he was, he was probably dead.
I took a deep breath and opened the trunk. No dead body, nothing. Clean as a whistle.
~~~~
We poked around the car for another five minutes but didn’t find anything useful. When we were done with the search, I turned to walk back to the Porsche.
“We can’t leave his car here,” Danica said. “Wherever Alex is, he’ll get upset if somebody steals his car. This isn’t the best neighborhood.”
My first instinct was to leave the car here and call the police. Moving the car would destroy any evidence that hadn’t already been compromised by our noising around the interior. But Danica was right. If we took off now, the car wouldn’t be here for long. I was amazed it hadn’t been stolen already. As Danica had said, even considering this was Scottsdale, it wasn’t the best neighborhood.
“One of us will have to drive it back to his apartment,” I said.
“I’ll do it,” Danica said. “I’ve driven it before and he doesn’t mind. Besides, if anything happens, he won’t get as mad if I’m the one who did it.”
She took the Porsche key off her key ring and handed it to me.
“Be careful, the brakes are sensitive.” She then turned, climbed into the Jaguar, and closed the door.
Smiling, just a bit, I climbed into the Porsche and started it up, cursing the bad luck that Alex’s apartment was only three miles away.
Two and a half minutes later, we both pulled into the parking lot of Alex’s complex.
~~~~
We walked up the stairs to Alex’s apartment. Danica rang the doorbell, while I tried to look through the kitchen window. The lights were off and I couldn’t make out any interior details. Danica opened the door with her key and we went in. I found the light switch and flipped it on.
Crazy as it sounds, it took two or three seconds for us to see something was wrong. Then it hit us both like we’d been slapped.
The entire apartment had been trashed. The couch had been flipped and gutted. Shredded books littered the floor in front of an overturned bookshelf. Chairs were overturned and torn apart. The lamps and TV were smashed. Even the stereo speakers had been knocked over and ripped apart.
In stunned silence, we walked into the kitchen. Every drawer had been pulled out of the cabinets. Loose stacks of utensils littered the floor. The refrigerator and the cupboards were standing open. Boxes of cereal, pancake mix, rice, French fries, and frozen corn had been dumped out in a pile in the center of the floor.
We heard a noise, a soft scraping sound that seemed to come from the back of the apartment. It wasn’t loud, but we both jumped. I pulled my Baby Glock out of my bag and loaded a round into the chamber.
I looked over at Danica. Her eyes were bugging out, staring at the Glock.
“Stay here,” I whispered. “I mean it. Don’t move.”
~~~~
I inched my way into the living room, then down the hall toward the bedroom. I mentally thumped my head for not checking the entire apartment when we first came in. Whoever trashed the apartment could still be here. Gina wouldn’t make a mistake like that. I guess the sight of the destruction threw me for a few minutes.
The first door in the hallw
ay was to the bathroom. It was open and I peered in. There didn’t appear to be anyone there, but the door to the shower was closed. I didn’t see a dark shape hiding behind it, but you never know. Crouching low, I pulled open the shower door. Nothing.
I crept farther down the hall to the bedroom. Here the door was closed. I listened, but the sound had stopped. I again crouched down low and turned the handle. I gave a light push and the door opened smoothly, without a squeak. I looked inside, the Glock following the movement of my eyes.
Sitting on the bed was a man with his back resting against the wall. I noticed two troubling things about him. First, it wasn’t Alex. Second, there was a large bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. His mouth was contorted open in a silent scream. His milky eyes were staring into nothingness. As I slowly stood up, I saw both of his hands were gone, hacked off at the wrists. So OK, make that three troubling things about him.
“Oh my God!” a panicked voice behind me cried out.
I jumped and there was a loud Boom! I looked down to see smoke coming from the end of my gun.
“Don’t do that!” I yelled, turning to Danica, my voice rising almost to panic level as well.
“There’s a dead guy on Alex’s bed,” Danica said, her voice coming out more as a high squeak than anything else. “Oh my God, he doesn’t have any hands. That is so gross.”
The world started to spin and nausea knotted in my stomach. Black and white dots danced in front of my face and I went down to one knee to keep from passing out. After a minute of breathing deeply, I was able to stand and scan the rest of the room.
A set of mini-blinds were hanging in front of an open window. As I watched, small gust of wind blew into the room, causing the mini-blinds to softly bang against the window frame. This was causing the noise we’d heard.
I then searched to see where my bullet had gone. I didn’t see any holes in the wall. The ceiling was unmarked. The floor looked OK too. I looked over at the bed and saw a hole in the dead guy’s shirt. I didn’t remember it being there before.
Jeez, the paperwork on this is going to take all night.
“Don’t touch anything,” I said. “I’m going to have to call this in.”
