The Lone Star Collection

by Renee Mackenzie

  Well, that was how it used to go. I looked over at Jess. Since we’d coupled up, my payouts got deposited in the bank to cover my share of the house expenses. Not exactly community property, but pretty damn close. The upside was the fridge was always stocked with groceries, and we never got those red-lettered, all caps envelopes from the electric company threatening to turn the lights off. Domestic life definitely had its benefits. As if he could read my thoughts, Cash uttered a half yawn, half mumble that sounded like “absolutely”—I swear the dog could talk.

  After a stop in West for kolaches and the obligatory pictures of bluebonnets along the highway, we finally pulled up at the Hyatt Convention Center Hotel in Austin. Jess insisted we valet the car since she was in a hurry to get to her first meeting of the day, and I shot the doorman a dare me look when he gave Cash the once over. I’d already called ahead to clear having the dog in the hotel with us without having to make him wear one of those silly vests anyone can buy on the Internet. I dared anyone to call me a warm and fuzzy pet person, but Cash and I had been together a while now, and I considered him my second set of eyes. If this was a working trip, then Cash was in it for the duration.

  “You sure you’re good?” Jess said, handing me one of the room keys while her gaze was trained across the room at her boss who was waving for her to join him.

  “Sure,” I replied, proud of my nonchalance. Old me would have challenged the assumption that I couldn’t handle being on my own in a nice hotel where her credit card guaranteed all sorts of magical services. I’d grown. “I’m headed out as soon as I get our stuff squared away.”

  “Cool. I should be done in time for dinner, but you know how these guys are.”

  I did. Their meeting would probably run long, and then they’d take it to the bar and have a beer or two, and next thing they knew it would be the next morning, and they’d all be pretending not to be hung over while they did a presentation about catching America’s most wanted. “Don’t worry about it.” I pointed at Cash. “We’ll grab something if we don’t hear from you.”

  The room was plush, a suite. The Austin PD had sprung for the rate, so they must’ve really wanted to impress Jess. Knowing them, they might be looking to lure her away, and I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that. Dallas was the only place I’d ever lived, and while my life outside of Jess was a little sketchy, it was all I knew. My long-single dad had married my favorite barkeep, Maggie, and they’d settled not too far from us, along with my brother who lived in the city with his doctor wife. Bingo, who ran the best card game in town, and my usual employer, bail bondsman, Hardin Jones, rounded out the list of local Dallas notables. Moving away from all that would leave a big hole in my world.

  I tucked the thought away and focused on the reason I’d joined Jess in Austin. Cash, clearly convinced we were set for the night, curled into a ball next to the mini bar, and it was darn tempting to dig out a couple of bottles of over-priced whiskey and a can of nuts and call it a day. But I only had two days to track down Leroy, so the downtime would have to wait. I grabbed the file Hardin had given me, and Cash and I headed back downstairs, passing up the expensive looking restaurant in the lobby even though I was starving. “We’ll grab something in town,” I told Cash who barked his agreement.

  According to Jess, we weren’t too far from a string of restaurants on South Congress, so we walked the distance, dodging tourists who crowded downtown, and settled on the patio at Guero’s Taco Bar. A Tecate for me and a cold glass of water for Cash along with a basket of chips and salsa, and we were set. I opened the file on Leroy and read through Hardin’s notes.

  Leroy Clark had worked as the chief financial officer for Duluth Enterprises for the last five years after having spent the twenty before that working his way up the ladder. His salary and bonuses for one year were more than what I’d make in ten, but apparently the more you make, the more you need because Leroy had started using the company financials as his personal slush fund. A surprise audit ordered by the board shed light on his misadventure, and he’d been indicted a short time later. Guys like Clark always made bond, and he was no exception. His case has been rocking along for a while with no big developments, but last week the prosecutor filed a motion asking the judge to have Clark tested for drug use, which if positive would result in his bond being revoked. Like all guilty shits, Clark didn’t stick around for the inevitable, choosing instead to bug out of town the minute his attorney gave him the bad news.

  That was a week ago. If it were me, I’d be in Mexico right now, sipping tequila on the beach, but in what was for me a lucky break, one of Jess’s contacts in Austin told her witnesses had spotted Clark hanging out with a bunch of bimbos on a boat down in Hippy Hollow, a well-known, clothing-optional park on Lake Travis. I’d come prepared to get on the water—not my favorite activity—but I hoped I’d be able to track him down on dry land. A review of his associates in Dallas told me the bimbos were the key. Clark’s weakness was women. I could totally relate, and I hoped it would give me the upper hand since for the first time in my life, I wasn’t going to be distracted by the bait.

  Jess and I hadn’t said the words, but I had no doubt we were both on the same page, which read something like, if you fuck another woman, you are dead to me. Maybe it was because I was getting older, or maybe I’d spent enough of my life working my way through the female population, but I was cool with our arrangement.

  I looked at the weather app on my phone. The weekend forecast called for lots of rain, the kind of spring rains that often brought massive winds and hail and big thunder and lightning. Clark wasn’t going to be hanging at Hippy Hollow this weekend, so I turned to the usual places where guys scope out girls, strip clubs.

  “You need another beer?”

  I looked up into the eyes of the twenty-something guy who’d been supplying me and Cash with food and drink. Austin was a big college town, and this guy looked the part. Trim, good-looking, and well groomed. I’d bet money I didn’t have that he was an officer in his fraternity and only worked as a way to pick up chicks, present company not included. “No, I’m good, but I do have a question. You happen to know of any good strip clubs? Not the sketchy ones, but places where a businessman in town for the night might kick back?”

  He looked over his shoulder as if any of the hipsters in this joint would give a shit about his giving advice to tourists. “I can think of a couple of places, but they’re not cheap, and neither one likes letting in unescorted girls.”

  I pretended not to notice that he was calling me a girl. “Money’s no object,” I said, trying not to wince at how freaking douchey I sounded, especially considering my plain black T-shirt, well-worn jeans, and scuffed boots signaled I wasn’t a money-didn’t-matter kind of person. His eyebrows arched, but he gave me the names, and I paid the bill, ready to get started on this little adventure.

  †

  At the first stop, The Yellow Rose was teeming with customers, judging by how hard it was to find a parking space. When I finally scored a spot, I explained to Cash that I needed to scope out the place on my own for a minute, and I promised to come get him if there was any action. He scrunched down in the seat like it was a personal rejection, but I didn’t have time to sooth his canine sorrows.

  A minute later, I reconsidered my decision because I wanted Cash to bite the first class asshole bouncer in the balls.

  “You got an escort?” The guy asked with his arms crossed and a snarl on his face.

  I made a show of looking over both shoulders before I fixed him with a hard stare. “You’re kidding, right?” I knew the kid at Guero’s had said something about needing an escort, but I figured he was just talking smack. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a big girl, perfectly capable of all the things that big girls do.”

  “Key word, girl. Unless it’s ladies night, which is every Thursday, you don’t get in without an escort.”

  As if on cue, a herd of girly girls skipped up the steps and took up position to my ri
ght. The girl in the lead had a determined look, and I wished her well since one of her friends seemed to be afflicted with a bobbing penis looming over her head.

  “Rothstein party,” Determined girl announced to the bouncer. I started to tell her she was wasting her time, but to my surprise, bouncer dude nodded and smiled, welcoming them inside. Guess I should’ve worn my penis hat too.

  “What gives?” I asked.

  “Private party. Booked in advance.”

  Oh, so strip clubs apparently worked like everything else in society. If you have enough money or know the right people, you can get in or get your hands on anything. I considered the contents of my wallet, which was a little more flush than usual. “I’m here for a private party,” I told Mr. Bouncer while I reached for my wallet. “We don’t need much, just a nice, quiet place to sit.”

  He made a show of looking all around me, and then shook his head. “I don’t have another girl’s party on the list. Besides, there’s no one here but you.”

  Brilliant, that’s what he was, but I was smarter. “Guess I’m the first one to get here. Damn that Jess. I told her I wasn’t going to wait around anymore, but she never listens. She’s probably on her way here, but she’s late to most everything and not even the promise of naked tits would make her move faster. But what am I going to do about it?”

  His head whipped around like he was trying to decide if I was going or coming, but I stood my ground. Finally, he spoke again. “I can’t let you in.”

  “That’s cool. We can wait until the rest of my posse gets here. They’ll be mad that I didn’t go ahead and order bottle service, but hey, whatcha going to do when the bouncer makes you wait for your friends in the parking lot?” He didn’t budge, and I couldn’t think of anything else that would get him to give up his righteous posture as the door bully. I waved as I walked off and said, “I’ll wait over here and be back shortly.”

  I wouldn’t be back shortly or ever if there was any way I could help it. I pretended to talk into my phone for a second and made a show of acting like I had the wrong bar before walking back to the car. Cash had fogged up the windows but otherwise seemed okay for a few minutes alone. I turned the radio on and leaned back in the seat. As long as I was here, I may as well scope out what I could from the outside.

  After thirty minutes, I lost count of the number of customers who’d gone inside, but I was certain there was a boatload of money being made in cover charges alone. The sheer volume had me thinking I might suggest to Jess that we invest in a strip club of our own. We could have one side for the guys who opened their wallets wide at the first sighting of boobs, and the other side could cater to women who wanted a little more quality time in private with the stripper of their choice. Since I’d been one of the wallets wide open types not that long ago, I could design the guys’ side no problem.

  Jess was so not going to go for this. The universe reinforced this thought when my phone chimed with a new text from hers truly. Done with my meeting. Room service?

  I didn’t bother telling her I’d already eaten. I could always eat again, and no way was I about to turn down dinner in bed. On my way. I set the phone down in the console and started to back up, but it lit up again almost immediately, but this time it was a phone call, and it wasn’t Jess. I punched the button that turned on the fancy feature that let me talk through the car speakers so I could drive and talk at the same time. “Hey Hardin.”

  “Hey Luca. Any luck?”

  “Eliminating options.” I turned the car out of the lot and got on the highway back to the hotel. “Got any new info for me?”

  “Matter of fact I do. Pal of mine who works at the Palazio spotted our boy there tonight.”

  Shit. There went naked meal time with Jess. The Palazio was the second place the waiter at Guero’s had mentioned, and but for Jess’s booty call, I would’ve been headed there now anyway. I sighed. “Yeah, okay, I’ll head there now.”

  “No need. He left already.”

  “Kind of early to call it a night.”

  “Apparently, he offered a couple of the dancers a little extra to leave early, but the guy who works there said chances are good he’ll be back tomorrow night. Figured you might want to check it out then.”

  “Sure, but I hope they’re a little easier on the no women without escorts policy. I ran into a jam at one of the other fancy clubs tonight.”

  “That’s lame.”

  “But apparently pretty standard. It’s their way of trying to keep the hookers out, although if you can pay the dancers to leave with you, I’m not sure it’s working.”

  “Tell you what—I have an idea. Show up at Palazio’s around six, before the night crowd gets going, and ask for Stuart. He’ll set you up.”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  “Oh, and Luca?”

  “Yes?”

  “Clark likes girl on girl. Use that info however you can.”

  Lovely. Like I’m going to waste some great girl on girl on a criminal, a guy no less. “I’ll do what I can.”

  †

  I woke up Saturday morning to sex and pancakes—two of my favorite things. Jess had ordered room service because we’d a) worked up an appetite and b) she wanted to go over her notes before her big presentation that afternoon. I was the lucky beneficiary of her efficiency.

  “You want me to call in another order?” she asked, her tone clearly indicating she thought I’d way overindulged in the massive plate of carbs.

  I swiped a big forkful of pancakes through the last of the maple syrup and fed it to Cash. “I’m good.” I patted my stomach. “Gotta leave room for lunch.”

  “I don’t care how long we’re together, I’ll never understand how you can eat the way you do and not gain any weight. Someday, it’s going to catch up with you.”

  I ignored the slight edge in her voice that told me she hoped that was the case, and wisely bit back my usual response which was something along the lines of “just lucky I guess.” I could tell Jess was a little nervous about the presentation, which made me think there was more on the line than just looking good in front of her peers. “So, how was dinner last night?”

  “Hmmm.” She didn’t look up from her index cards. “Okay, I guess.”

  “Just you and Etheridge?” I asked, referring to the guy at Austin PD who’d set her up with this gig.

  She set the cards down. “What do you really want to know?”

  “Nothing,” I said, feeling a little foolish for starting down the path. “It’s all good.” I swung my legs out of bed, but she put a hand on my thigh to stop me, and her look said spill. “Really,” I said, “it’s nothing. But you’ll tell me if you get an offer from another department, right?”

  She shook her head. “Not going to happen.”

  “It could happen.” I fiddled with the bed sheets. “They seem to like you down here.”

  “They like everyone. It’s Austin.”

  “Definitely a more laid back vibe,” I said, setting bait for her to say more. If she wound up in Austin it wouldn’t be the worst thing. I could probably find work, but it would be hard at first without all the contacts I’d developed over the years. Plus, as much as I hated to admit it, I might miss my dad and brother.

  Jess punched me in the arm. “Don’t be a jerk. I’m not—we’re not—going anywhere. Cool?”

  “Cool.” I wasn’t convinced, but if there was anything to all that stuff about making things happen by believing they were true, I figured it couldn’t hurt to play along.

  When Jess left for her presentation, I took Cash out for a walk. Normally I ran a couple of miles in the mornings, but post pancake I was in no shape for bouncing up and down, so the sex would have to serve as my aerobic activity for the day. It was overcast outside which meant not as many tourists as the day before, and we managed to make it all the way to the Congress street bridge and back without anyone trying to pet Cash. Post walk, we tumbled into bed and took a nap until it was time to head to the club.

&n
bsp; The Palazio was a lot like the place from the night before, at least from the outside, except it was early enough that I didn’t have to jockey for a parking space. Cash and I strolled to the front door, pushed our way in, and ran into a man posing as a brick wall.

  “You can’t bring that dog in here,” he growled, his eyes firmly fixed on Cash.

  I took heart in the fact he wasn’t denying me entrance. “Service dog.” I shrugged. “Doc says I have to keep him with me.” I pulled this off before with pretty good success. The whole service dog thing was in vogue, and I wasn’t too cool to take advantage of a trend that actually helped me out.

  “You’re a broad.”

  Mr. Brick Wall was super quick on the update. “Well, that’s debatable, but I am female.”

  “You have an escort?”

  I started to name Cash as my male escort, but figured that might open up a discussion about fetishes, and I wasn’t remotely interested in going there with this guy. “I’m looking for Stuart.”

  “Okay.”

  “Maybe you could tell him I’m here. My name is Luca.” I spoke slowly.

  “Right.”

  Damn. This was going to be harder than I thought. “If he’s not here yet, I can come back.” Big guy looked at me with crazy eyes, and I was about to give up, but a skinny dude hauling a keg called out, “He is Stuart. Whatcha need?”