Deadline

by K. A. Tracy

  Sam squinted, trying to see her more clearly. “Who does she remind me of?”

  “Julie Newmar as Catwoman?”

  Money sauntered back towards the curtain as the first song faded out, and the sultry, haunting melody of Fiona Apple’s “Criminal” now pulsed through the club. Money shrugged off her night shirt, executed a slow pirouette, and then walked provocatively toward the pole.

  Crazy eyes indeed, Sam thought, as Money leaned against the pole, sliding into a squat. Her figure was voluptuous, but her soft belly and rounded face betrayed her youth. Sam doubted she was much past legal age. Money gracefully rolled onto the floor and pulled herself along the stage to the delirious encouragement of the crowd. When she was almost close enough for them to touch her, she slid away, making them yell even louder. Unlike Lavender, who playfully teased the audience, Money’s energy was more adversarial, as if they were an enemy to conquer.

  September walked up to the service bar and motioned toward the stage. “That’s one of her new songs. Pretty good, huh?”

  “She’s something,” Sam said diplomatically.

  The show Money put on with her last song, Nine inch Nail’s “Closer,” was a Freudian’s field day. With her hair down, she was an erotic Sheena prowling the stage. She spun on the pole, rubbing her leg against it, inching further up her thigh with each turn. She pivoted and braced herself against the pole, legs spread in a wide stance. One hand caressed her breasts, the other slipped inside the thong. Her skin glowed with a light sheen of perspiration, and her breathing quickened. Oblivious of the crowd, eyes closed, she swung around and straddled the pole, hips moving with rhythmic urgency.

  The sheer overt sexuality of her exhibitionism made it hard to watch but impossible not to. The song faded out, but Money kept going until she shuddered in release then slid to the floor with a deeply primal groan, her eyes glazed and oddly lifeless.

  The lights went out, leaving the club in stunned blackness.

  Chapter Ten

  There was a brief moment of edgy silence as the audience collectively regrouped, followed by a cascade of wild cheers and stomping. When the lights came back on Money was gone, but appreciative patrons threw bills onto the stage. The men around the bar clapped in syncopated unison, calling for her to come back and get their tips. A few jokers called out for an encore. But the stage lights went off, and a big man in a Crazy Girls security T-shirt came out and picked up the cash littering the stage. A rumble of disappointed boos greeted him, but the DJ turned up the house music, making it clear the show was over.

  Joe and Sam looked at each other. “Watching that together is the closest you and I will ever come to having sex,” she decided.

  “I feel like I should be having a cigarette.” He took a long swallow of his drink. “You know I’m not a prude, and in fact if Kevin were here we’d probably be out in the car right now, but there was something disturbing about that.”

  Sam nodded. “She was completely detached from the experience. Of course, maybe that’s to be expected when your partner is an aluminum pole.”

  “Whatever it was, she kind of scared me.”

  “Money seems to have that effect on people. I wonder if it’s just part of her act or she really is nuts.” Sam stood up. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to see if I can find her.”

  “Just remember not to shake her hand. We know where it’s been.”

  Sam made her way back through the lap dance room. Every table was in use, and several dozen men anxiously milled around the bar, apparently waiting for their turn. Money was obviously very good for business. The area had assumed a musky scent that Sam didn’t want to spend too much time dwelling on. She walked to the backstage entrance and poked her head through the curtain, coming nose to nose with a surprised security guy.

  Sam stepped through the curtain. “Hey, I was wondering if it would be possible to get back there and talk to Money for a moment. We have a mutual friend, and I just wanted to say hi.”

  He gave her a friendly smile. “Sorry, can’t do.”

  “Well, can I just wait for her here?”

  “Could, but you’d be waiting a while. Not that I’d mind the company,” the smile getting friendlier and flirtier.

  Sam was oblivious. “Thanks, but I have a friend waiting at the bar, and I’ve really got to be going. Any idea how long she’ll be?”

  The guard accepted the turndown graciously. “Actually, Money’s already gone. Took off right after the show. Musta been in a hurry because she left just wearing her robe.” He pointed a thumb towards the lap dance room. “Lotta those guys gonna be disappointed tonight.”

  • • •

  Inside the Galaxy they found a cozy room with a friendly atmosphere. Jukebox music was playing, and most of the patrons were engaged in quiet conversation, with only a few curious glances cast their way. Lavender was sitting in the back corner booth, eating soup. She nodded at Sam and eyed Joe curiously as they approached.

  “Hi Lavender. This is my friend Joe.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Joe shook her hand then turned to Sam. “I’m going to go sit at the bar and give you two some privacy. Do you want me to have the waitress bring you something?”

  “Sure, I’ll have a Diet Coke. Can I get you anything?” Sam asked Lavender.

  “No, I’m fine. If you’re hungry they have a small menu. There’s not much of a selection but what they have is usually good.”

  Sam slid into the booth. “Sorry we’re a little late.”

  “That’s okay. I figured you stayed to watch Money,” Lavender said, biting into a cracker. With her face freshly washed and wearing a linen jacket over her camisole and jeans, Lavender was the picture of modesty. “What did she do to shock the patrons tonight?”

  “Let’s just say her last song built to a climax, and in some states she’d have to marry the pole now.”

  Lavender’s eyes widened. “You’re serious? That’s kind of out there even for her. I don’t think I could make myself get off on that stage if my life depended on it. Hell, it’s hard enough when I’m by myself, if you know what I mean,” she said with a wry, tired smile. “I usually fall asleep half way through.”

  Sam again wondered what circumstances had brought her to the Crazy Girl and a solitary midnight dinner. “How long have you worked at the club?”

  “It’ll be two years next January. Feels a lot longer, though.”

  “Do you mind if I ask how you ended up there?”

  “I don’t mind.” Lavender tilted the bowl for the last spoonful of broth then took a sip of her red wine. She sat back and looked at Sam with a steady gaze. “My husband got busted trying to sell a truckload of pot to an undercover cop and got sentenced to three years in prison.”

  “He was a dealer?”

  “No, he’s a carpenter—and a really good one. But he got laid off his construction job when I was pregnant with our second kid and panicked.”

  Sam involuntarily glanced towards her slender hips. “You have two kids?”

  “Both C-sections. The thong covers the scar.”

  “So he was gone when you gave birth?”

  “Right. He’s never been able to hold his son yet. So stupid,” her voice was edged with frustration and anger. “I moved in with my mom, but that didn’t work. An infant and a three-year-old were too much for her. I needed my own place and a reliable car, which meant I needed to make big money fast, but I also wanted to be home during the day. When I saw an ad in the paper for dancers and what they said you could earn, I applied. The first time I had to strip I thought I was going to throw up, but I just kept thinking I needed the job for my kids. I make almost $2,000 a week so it’s worth it.”

  Sam watched Lavender take a drink of wine. “You actually seemed very comfortable on stage. Did you ever model or act?”

  “I took dance lessons and stuff as a kid,” she smiled. “After Mitch and I fell in love all I ever wanted was to be with him, have a family, live a quiet happy life, work at a fun j
ob with nice people, and have good friends. That’s still what I want.”

  “Does your husband know where you work?”

  “No, that’s why I moved out of Indio to Palm Springs. It’s kind of a long drive home late at night, but when Mitch gets out, hopefully we won’t run into anyone who knows me from the club.” Lavender sat forward, resting her elbows on the table. “I know people think I’m standoffish or cold, but the truth is I don’t want to get to know anybody there or get too close. When Mitch is released I’ll go back to bartending part time, he’ll find work, and this chapter of my life will be over.”

  Sam grabbed a pen from the side pocket of her backpack and wrote Sharon’s name and the phone number for Ted’s on the back of a business card. “Here. I have a friend who owns this pub in Palm Springs. They periodically need bartenders, so when the time comes you should give them a call. Or call me and I’ll make the introduction.”

  Lavender took the card. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

  “You obviously won’t make nearly as much money there, but they’re really good people. I never knew dancing in a club could be so profitable.”

  “I could be making even more, but I only do table dances. I won’t do lap dances. I couldn’t do that to Mitch. He’ll get over me dancing on stage or on a table, but he’d never be able to deal with me touching a guy one on one. Besides, I don’t have a habit, so I’ve been able to put a lot away in savings. That’s going to be our safety net in case we ever hit another rough patch again.”

  The waitress brought the soda over and cleared the soup bowl, wiping the table. Sam took a sip and waited for her to leave. “So, Lavender—”

  “Please, my name’s Kim; Lavender’s not who I am outside that place.”

  “Okay, thanks. So, how well did you know Jeff?”

  Kim’s smile faded, her expression turning melancholy. “I just can’t believe somebody killed him. Do they know why?”

  “The police are still trying to figure that out. Is there anything you can tell me about him? Like where he was from or why he came to Palm Springs in the first place? I have to tell you, there are some people in that club who think you and Jeff were romantically involved.”

  “I couldn’t care less what anybody there thinks, but I never slept with Jeff. It never came up. He was the only man in that place that didn’t look at me like he was fucking me in his head. We actually talked. You know the phrase ‘a gentle soul’? That was him. I think the only reason he bought table dances was because he knew about my situation. It was his way of helping. That’s why it’s so unreal he would end up murdered, unless he was killed helping someone.”

  “Did he ever say where he was from?”

  “Not specifically. But the few times he talked about back home; he made it sound far away.”

  “Do you remember when you met?”

  “Yeah,” she glanced away, thinking. “He started coming in shortly after Money began working there, so that was probably around April. After a while I noticed he was only there on the nights she worked.”

  “How often is that?”

  “She works three nights. I work every night but Sunday, so I know all the regulars by sight.”

  “Do you know what Money’s real name is?”

  “No. Sometimes I wondered if the owners hired Jeff to shadow her. She’s a cash cow but completely unpredictable. She has pissed off quite a few guys big time.”

  “Did it seem like he had a crush on Money?”

  “Not at all,” Kim said. “If anything, he seemed protective towards her. She was always really touchy-feely with him, but he was always a gentleman.”

  “So they were not involved?”

  “You mean like boyfriend-girlfriend?” She shifted in her seat. “No.”

  Okay,” Sam said slowly, alerted by Kim’s body language. “Did they ever hook up?”

  Kim pressed the palms of her hands together, covering her nose and mouth, obviously conflicted. Sam waited. Finally, she sat back with a sigh. “He made me promise never to tell anyone, but I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

  “This is about Money?”

  She nodded. “I never saw Jeff drink, except for one night in the middle of May. I remember because it was right around my birthday. I had a bottle of wine backstage and talked him into having some with me. He was a real lightweight and got a major buzz. He was very funny, in a silly kind of way. We really had a great time,” she said, smiling softly at the memory. “Then all of a sudden, he checked his watch and jumped up, saying it was time to go babysit Money and earn his keep.”

  “That’s the word he used? Babysit.”

  “Yeah. Later that night he came back to my dressing room and was just a mess. Upset. Really crying. He told me Money talked him into having more drinks then insisted he buy a lap dance. Except it went way beyond that.”

  “They had sex?”

  “Right in the booth. Honest to God it seems Money can put any guy under a spell.”

  “Why was he so upset?”

  “That’s what I wondered. I tried to tell him it was no big deal. They were both adults, but Jeff was inconsolable. He kept talking about his betrayal. That was the night he told me he had a girl back home. But I got the impression his upset went lots deeper than just cheating on his girlfriend.”

  “As in, it wasn’t so much what he did but who he did it with?”

  “More like what he did and who he did it with. Also, I don’t think he was very experienced sexually, so maybe it just freaked him out.”

  Sam mentally circled back to the babysitting comment. “Did Jeff ever get any more specific about his relationship with Money?”

  “No. But after that night, it was like Money had some weird control over him. She’d make him stand there all night watching her give lap dances. I also know she made him buy her drugs at least once because he came to me in a panic, needing to know where to get some.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “To ask one of the bartenders. They always know who’s carrying.”

  They sat in silence a few moments, sipping their drinks. “It almost sounds like she was blackmailing him,” Sam said.

  “That’s exactly what it seemed like to me, too,” Kim agreed. “One time, I was backstage and overheard Money threaten to tell their secret if he wasn’t nice to her. She said it in a jokey way, but I know she meant it.”

  “The secret being they had sex, and he bought her drugs?”

  “I guess.”

  “And who would she tell?”

  “I assumed his girlfriend.”

  That would mean Money knew who his girlfriend was and how to reach her.

  “Do you remember her exact words?”

  Kim closed her eyes, remembering. “Let’s see how much she wants you around after I tell her about our little secret.”

  “How did Jeff react?”

  “He looked like he wanted to cry,” she said softly. “God, I felt so terrible. If he hadn’t been buzzed, he would have never let himself get in that situation.”

  “I don’t think you should blame yourself. It seems like it was only a matter of time before Money got him under her control one way or another.”

  “Maybe,” Kim shrugged. “She was definitely obsessed with him.”

  “And Jeff only started coming to the club after Money started working there.”

  “Right.”

  “Did he knew her before or did they meet at the club?”

  “I just assumed they met at the club, but I don’t know for sure. I never asked and he never said.”

  “Did Jeff ever mention going into some kind of business or that he was planning on leaving the area soon?”

  Kim turned sideways in the booth, stretching out her legs. “The last few times we talked he said he was ready to go back home but had some personal business he needed to finish up here first. I told him he should just go now and get away from here. But he said he had to make some things right before he could move on. When I asked wha
t, he said he couldn’t tell me yet but would later.” Kim’s eyes moistened. “I wonder if that’s what got him killed.”

  Sam looked at her watch. “I know you probably need to get home. I just have a couple more questions. When was the last time you saw Jeff?”

  “Last Saturday,” she said quietly. “But I never talked to him. I was backstage doing a table dance when I saw him and Money over by the bar.”

  “What time was this?

  “It had to be after 12:30 because I had finished my last stage set.”

  “What were they doing?”

  “It looked like they were arguing. She seemed to be angry at him, and he seemed to be trying to reason with her. He kind of grabbed her by the shoulders, but Money pushed him away and walked off. I remember thinking how sad he looked.”

  “Where’d she go?”

  “To the main room. The next time I glanced over, Jeff was gone.” Kim looked at Sam. “Do you think it’s possible Money killed him?”

  “I really have no opinion.”

  “I think she’s more than capable of it,” Kim admitted. “There’s just something not right about that girl.”

  Sam didn’t disagree. “One last thing: did Jeff ever talk about any other friends he might have confided in? Any name he ever mentioned?”

  Kim gathered her purse and scooted to the edge of the bench, thinking. “Once or twice he mentioned some guy named Jerry. But he never went into detail.”

  “Did he talk about Ellen Konrad?”

  “I think he was a bit star-struck there,” she smiled. “One day coming into to work I walked past his car and saw the bumper stickers and the signs in the backseat. That’s when I found out he did volunteer work for the campaign. When I asked about it, all he said was that she was a great lady and would make a great mayor. I know I’m voting for her.”

  Sam suspected Ellen would be pleased to know she had the local stripper vote. She pulled out her wallet and insisted on paying Kim’s check, courtesy of the Weekender. She motioned to Joe, and the three of them walked out together. Kim got into an Audi that had two child seats in the back.