“Hold on. When’re we hitting Belle Nuit? We still have to check up on Duffy’s alibi?”
“Cami is a member there, I bet I could get her to take me up there after our dinner thing. You okay with me checking it out on my own?”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Nah. All I have to do is flash Duffy’s picture around, see if someone at the club remembers him from Wednesday night.”
“Thanks, Pearson. I’ll dive into that ream of Hunter’s email Ashena printed out for us. It’s something I can do at home.” Ivy tapped a sheaf of papers to even them out and shoved it into a folder. She’d made an entire paper copy of the whole casebook, photos and all.
“You’re a paper person, too?”
Ivy tucked the folder into her tote. “Yeah, I get screen headaches when I look at them too long. I like the way paper feels, too. I can draw on it, write down questions and take notes. I can cut it apart and make a different sort of timeline from statements. Add sticky notes. Still can’t do that on a computer.”
41
Court flipped his hood up over his head to protect himself from the brief drizzle. Britt had insisted on a second birthday celebration with family and close friends only. He thought it was silly to have two birthday parties, but he went anyway. Mostly for the pasta. Cami had readily agreed to leave as soon as they were done eating to take him over to Belle Nuit.
He filled her in on his date with Madeline.
“So what’s the girl look like anyway?” she asked.
“Didn’t you meet her at the party on Saturday?” Court asked.
“Can’t remember. Got a photo of her?”
Court pulled up the selfie Madeline had sent him of her at work. Cami took the phone out of his hands. She let out an appreciative whistle. “She’s hot. Wow. And you took her home with you last night?”
Was it only last night? Today had been one of the longest Mondays of his career. Court grinned but didn’t offer any details.
“It’s official. I no longer feel sorry for you.”
“I figure I can stretch this out as long as possible. Keep Britt off my back for a while.”
“Or, maybe, it might actually turn into something more than sex? Maybe Britt got it right this time.”
Court wasn’t looking for “right.” All he needed was company now and again. Sexual contact. Skin against skin. He could live without a deeper connection.
Cami drove an ancient GM Roadster she tended like a baby. It was only a problem if you were trying to have a conversation while the engine was running. Court had to yell to be heard. “So what did you want me to talk to you about earlier? You texted me.”
Cami didn’t look at him but focused on the road.
Court was on immediate alert when she didn’t answer right away. Something was up.
She waved a hand around in the air. “I had a couple of questions for you. But, I had to move on something. Got my answers elsewhere.”
Cami rarely lied to Court. The few times had been for good reasons followed by excuses, apologies and explanations. “You working on a new story?”
“Sort of.”
Any prevarication on her part meant she was into something she didn’t want to tell him. When she was digging into something big, she usually got pretty mum about it. He decided to not press it. He appreciated it when she didn’t push him for information, so he’d return the favor.
He had read a few of the stories she had published, but he didn’t understand how she made a living at it. Come to think of it, there was a lot he didn’t know about his friend. Cami had the physique and intellect to be some sort of government spook—CIA, FBI, Homeland Security. Journalism was a great cover. He had once joked with her about it, and her face had grown pensive and dark. She’d told him it would be better for everyone if he didn’t ask so many questions about her job. He’d never figured out if she was serious or joking.
42
There was a small lot in front of Belle Nuit, but it was filled. They parked down the street, close to a popular brew pub, and walked back to the club. The sign was innocuous enough, simple blue neon letters surrounded by three stars gave Belle Nuit an almost sophisticated air. Nothing garish about it—the neon was understated, dark. No flashing or blinking Girls! Girls! Girls! If he didn’t know what was going on inside, he’d assume it was a corner bar like any other.
The few people standing in the covered smoking section the requisite twenty-five feet from any doors looked like anyone else stepping out for a smoke. Court was in jeans with a sports coat, his usual work attire. Cami was dressed vanilla for the birthday party—her usual leather and heavy boots had been replaced with slacks with a tailored shirt and tie.
The doorman did a quick double take at Cami. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.” He swung the door open wide for them.
The small lobby featured a series of coat hooks, most of which were filled. Music thumped behind a set of thick wooden doors across the lobby from the entrance. A woman in a tight leather skirt with an even tighter corset stood behind a podium that looked like any other hostess station in the city, complete with a little light over the pad on top.
She checked them out, her head jutting forward as she inspected Cami. “Whoa. I didn’t recognize you, sir.” She gave Court a cursory glance and winked at Cami. “Two for Monday Madness?”
“Actually, not tonight, Mac. This is my friend, Detective Court Pearson. I’m hoping you could help him out.”
Court pulled out his ID, resting his wrist against the podium so she could examine it. “I’m investigating a homicide. I have a few questions about a member here.”
Mac pressed her hands to her temples. “Not sure I can help.” She turned to Cami with a disapproving glare. “You know the rules.”
Cami held up her hands and shrugged. “I know, I know, but this is important, Mac. Talk to him. He’s probably got a warrant tucked inside his jacket anyway.”
“Cami,” Court said, “I’m going to have to ask you to step out of earshot now, though.”
Cami jutted out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. “I’ll go inside and see who’s around. Mac, can I pop in for a bit?”
She opened the door leading into the main part of the club, slipping inside before Mac could protest. Laughter and music rippled out. Was that a scream?
Court hoped Cami would come back so he didn’t have to go inside to find her. “I’m not asking you to break any confidentiality rules,” he said to Mac. “He’s already told me he’s a member here. I need to establish whether or not this guy was here last Wednesday night.”
“Our records are private.”
“Your guests all have to sign in, right?”
“I can’t have you looking at the guest book. You’re probably looking for someone with their legal name, anyway. You know his scene name?”
“Let me make this easy on you.” Court pulled out a small packet of papers and laid them out on the podium. “Here’s a photo. He goes by Macbeth. And, here’s a warrant to search for his activity here.”
Mac whistled a low, breathy whistle. “Oh, I don’t even have to look him up. He’s here every Wednesday night. Checks in about five or five thirty. Leaves around ten. Every week.”
Court was surprised at how easy that was. “You’re sure? Was he here last Wednesday?”
“Yeah. He volunteers here during our new member orientation. He gets here early to set up the snacks and drinks. He was definitely here. I think he even gave the tour last week.”
That had been easy. Maybe too easy. “Anyone else here who could confirm this?”
Mac jut out her lower lip, rounding her eyes. “You don’t believe me, Detective?” She put a hand over her heart. “I’m devastated.”
Court held up both hands. “Could be he called you to have you cover for him.”
“Who me? Lie to such an adorable-looking morsel like you? No way, Detective.” She held up the three fingers of her other hand, shifting the other from her heart to squee
ze her breast. “Scout’s honor. Macbeth was here last Wednesday, like clockwork.” She tilted her head to the double-thick doors. “But, if you want, you could go check with Harry, the barkeep. He’s here every Monday through Thursday, and he would know for sure.” A smile played at her lips.
“Is it okay to go in there with clothes on?” Court wasn’t sure of what might be happening beyond the doors. He’d never been inside before, but he’d heard plenty of stories.
“Of course, though not everyone inside will be dressed. And, there’s likely some sort of spanking going on. Maybe some actual c-o-p-ulation?” She cackled at her joke.
“I think I can manage.” He paused, pulling out the other photos he had with him. “Any chance you recognize any of these three?”
Mac leaned forward and studied the DMV head shots of Payne, Nolan and the drawing they’d gotten from Audrey Drummond’s description. She tapped the drawing. “This is kind of useless, isn’t it?” She picked up each picture and held them closer to examine them one at a time. “I don’t recognize any of these. Not that I know everyone who comes in here. Have you shown these to Bam-Bam? She’s been a member here longer than I have.”
“Bam-Bam?” he asked before realizing she was talking about Cami. He looked over at the door to the inside. “Oh, right. I forgot. Maybe I’ll do that.”
“Anything else I can help you with?” The look she gave him made it clear she’d join him inside for something pretty kinky.
“That’s it. Thanks for your help, Mac.”
Court paused before pushing the doors open and stepping into the other room. His eyes took a minute to adjust to the dim interior. It was busier than he would have thought for a Monday night. He scanned the room for Cami, and spotted her on a sofa with another woman who was leaning in close, playing with her tie.
Half the people were dressed, the other half naked. Two women leaned over benches, their naked buttocks up in the air. A tall man in jeans and a crisp button-down shirt was spanking one of them with his bare hands, slapping against her pinkening skin to the rhythm of the music. The other woman was watching, wiggling her own bare bottom in anticipation. Court averted his eyes. Whatever went on in here was consensual, all adult, and none of his business.
He strode directly to the bar. “You Harry?” Court asked.
“Yup. What can I do for you, officer?”
Was it that obvious? Court spread the photos on the dark shiny surface. “Recognize any of these guys?”
Harry looked over the rim of his glasses at Court before shifting them up on his nose and examining the pictures. “Well, this here, that’s Macbeth. He’s here all the time. Well, at least on Wednesdays. Sometimes comes in Tuesday afternoons.” He picked up Nolan’s picture and shook his head. Same for Payne’s. “Don’t know these guys.”
“Do you know if Macbeth was here last Wednesday?”
Harry rubbed his nose with a Kleenex and sniffed in heavily through his nose. “Last Wednesday? Let me think for a sec. I’m not sure I was here last Wednesday. Mighta been the day I was sick. Let me look.” He examined his phone for a minute. “Yeah. I was out. So, I can’t tell ya for sure. But, Macbeth hasn’t missed a Wednesday in years. He was probably here.”
Court tapped the photos into a neat stack against the bar top. “And Macbeth is the only familiar one of these?”
Harry shrugged. “None of them others look familiar. Sorry. Want something to drink?”
“Thanks, but I’m going to grab Bam-Bam over there and head out.”
Cami had moved from the couch. She was standing at the edge of another room watching a group play some sort of game. Court sidled up to her to watch as six naked men played a version of Simon Says with a domme at the front of the room. She barked out orders, telling them to hold themselves, kneel, or do other things Court did only in private. Instead of “Simon Says” she said “Mistress says.”
He hovered near Cami for a moment before she realized he was there. “Dude. I didn’t know you were inside. Done?”
Court tore his attention away from the game. “Very much so.”
Cami laughed, lightly kissing the cheek of a woman standing next to her as she turned to join him.
Court waved at Mac as he pushed the outer door open.
“Come back any time, Detective. But leave the badge and gun at home so you won’t be so overdressed.” She pursed her lips at him in a long-distance kiss. “And you,” she said pointing at Cami. “You look adorable all vanilla like that.”
“Bam-Bam?” he asked as he lowered himself into Cami’s car.
She laughed. “Mac has a big mouth. Did you get anything from her?”
“What I needed.” He pulled all the photos out of his pocket, handing them to Cami. “Before we get moving, take a look. You recognize any of these guys?” Mac had made a point about Cami being a longtime member of the club. Maybe she did know something useful.
She examined them under the streetlight coming in through the windshield. She held up Duffy’s photo. “He’s here a lot. Don’t know much about him. He’s a guy, and I tend to ignore guys. Unless they’re being humiliated in public.” She laughed, tilting her head toward the club. “The others are not at all familiar. Sorry.” She handed him back the photos and cranked the engine. “So, Macbeth, there, I don’t know him, but I think he’s pretty stand-up. Is he a suspect in the Drummond thing?”
Had he mentioned Drummond to her at all? He was pretty sure he hadn’t said anything at the bar Friday night. Saturday at the party? “Drummond thing?” he repeated.
“Relax, Court. I read the press release from this afternoon. You were listed as the lead detective on the Drummond death.”
Court had forgotten Stensland’s plans for the press release. “Right. Okay. So, yeah, I was here to clear Macbeth, so keep it to yourself, okay?”
“No need to lecture me, Court. The last thing I need is to be associated with leaking a member’s identity from Belle Nuit. They’d never let me back in there.”
“You go there a lot?”
“Used to all the time. I probably get there once a month these days.”
“Why’s that?”
“Remember that hot femme I found at Lez Brut a couple of months ago?”
Court did, except Cami had not mentioned her since. It was the last time they hit the monthly LGBTQ-friendly dance together. Court had gone home alone after Cami had been smitten by a younger, hot blonde femme. Court hadn’t even got a very good look at her before Cami was spinning away out of the bar, a huge shit-eating grin on her face. “You still seeing her?” Cami nodded. In spite of the dim light coming in from the streetlights, Court could see the dark blush creep up on Cami’s cheeks. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush like that before.”
“Well, actually… she may be a petite girly-girl, but she’s … a twisted, talented top.”
Court twisted in his seat. “Wait. I thought you….” Cami a bottom? He couldn’t imagine her playing the submissive to anyone. “No way.”
“I know. I know. I used to be. But, we got into this thing a week or so after meeting. So, basically, I lost a bet, and I ended up subbing. It worked for me. It was the first time I’d ever let another woman take control in bed.”
Court wouldn’t have been more surprised if she had told him she was straight.
“Here’s the thing. By having to do things for her, and get her off … she never has to touch me. But when she does? Man. I actually feel something. Physically. Like I never felt before.” She wiped at some dust on her steering wheel with a finger. “I thought I was totally stone butch, you know? But I’m not. Not with her.”
“Why haven’t you mentioned her before now?” Court hadn’t realized that Cami was capable of holding back on him. The smallest twinge of upset at the betrayal twisted in his gut. It wasn’t a big deal, was it? He had secrets he kept from her.
“I was told not to tell anyone.”
“Wait, she gets to tell you what you talk about?”
&nbs
p; They were at a stoplight. Cami turned toward him and shrugged. “It’s part of our agreement. If I decide I’m done with it, I’ll be done with it. As it is, she’s going to give me some shit for telling you.”
Court tried to understand the appeal. Being married had been enough of a drain on his freedom. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it, or wouldn’t want it back again, but it was a conventional relationship. He was expected to let Amanda know if he’d be late from work out of common courtesy; she would do the same. They each had their own friends. They each had their own lives beyond their marriage. There were more than fifty people at her funeral he’d never met before. Friends from school and work and her life. “She knows you hang out with me?”
“Yeah. And if she ever tried to control more than I want her to, I’d be out of it. It’s not a big deal, Court. It’s willing fun on my part.”
Court felt a sudden urge to give Cami pamphlets on domestic violence. Abusers started out controlling their victims in small ways, gradually building their influence until they were completely in charge. He wondered what else Cami hadn’t told him. “Are you living with her?”
“I still have my apartment.”
“Keep it.”
“Dude, you need to let up. This is all good. We’re doing things safely. She’s careful. I’m careful. Don’t worry about me.”
Court couldn’t help it. It was in his nature to be skeptical. Of everything. He pointed to the side of the road. “Hey, drop me off here.”
Cami pulled into the exact same spot where Drummond had parked his car the night he died. “Why here?” she asked.
“I need to look around.”
“It has to do with the Drummond case, doesn’t it?”
He didn’t like the way she asked the question. It wasn’t like her to ask about his work, and she’d already brought it up once. He’d opened the door by having her drive him to Belle Nuit. Maybe he should have taken the bus.
43
Bound to Die Page 22