Sunflower Street (Rose Hill Mysteries Book 8)

by Pamela Grandstaff

  “She got a crowbar out of her trunk and is breaking his car windows. There’s a crowd gathering.”

  “What should we do?” Claire asked.

  “Follow the Mustang,” Hannah said.

  The Mustang was flying down the frontage road.

  “I can’t drive this fast,” Claire said as the speedometer hit 90 MPH.

  “Don’t be such a testicle,” Hannah said. “I should be driving.”

  “It’s dangerous and I don’t want to be responsible for killing someone,” Claire said, and took her foot off the gas.

  Claire was relieved when the Mustang did not get on the interstate. Instead, it kept going west, and turned left into the parking lot of the strip club.

  On the marquis several names were touted, one of which was “Mustang Sally.”

  “It’s all coming together now,” Hannah said.

  “How so?”

  “Her second job must be here,” Hannah said. “Although I could swear I’ve seen her somewhere before and I’ve never been here. I wish I could remember.”

  The main parking lot was still empty, but there were several cars parked behind the club, near the back entrance. They watched the young woman and Chip get out of the Mustang and go in the back door; Chip used a key.

  “Why would he have a key?” Claire asked.

  Hannah shrugged.

  “Maybe it’s hers.”

  “This scandal will derail Jillian’s social campaign,” Claire said.

  “I don’t think he cares about that,” Hannah said. “Otherwise, why would he be so blatant about it?”

  “Maybe he’s one of those guys who wants to end his marriage but doesn’t want to be the bad guy.”

  “So, he does everything he can to drive his wife away and then blames her when she files for divorce.”

  “I’m liking him less and less,” Claire said. “What do we do now?”

  “Well, I’m going to wait to hear from Maggie while you go in there and talk to Chip.”

  “Why me?”

  “You’re the one with all the strip club experience.”

  “I did hair and make-up,” Claire said.

  “So, get in there and offer your services or something,” Hannah said. “We need to know what this chick’s deal is and if she’s been killing everyone in between Chip and his inheritance.”

  “He didn’t get a penny,” Claire said.

  “No way!”

  “So, if she has been killing people, it was all for nothing.”

  “I still think Jillian’s the maniac,” Hannah said. “She’s got crazy eyes.”

  “She just needs to lighten up on the black eye liner and frosted blue eye shadow,” Claire said.

  Hannah’s phone buzzed, and she answered it on speaker.

  “Jillian’s in state police custody,” Maggie said. “Where are you guys?”

  “Strip club,” Hannah said. “Chip’s got a key to the back door.”

  “Interesting,” Maggie said. “Be there in a sec.”

  Claire approached the back door of the strip club and knocked on the gray steel door. There was a buzzer but she didn’t want to alert the whole club, just whoever was nearest to the door. It was opened by very pretty woman in a big blonde wig, heavy make-up, platform heels, a skimpy red one-piece bathing suit, and a bathrobe.

  “Hi,” Claire said. “I’m supposed to meet Chip but I wasn’t sure which door to use.”

  The woman looked Claire up and down and raised an eyebrow.

  “You’re kind of old for this, aren’t you?”

  “I do hair and make-up,” Claire said. “You look just like a Baywatch girl.”

  “So I’ve been told,” the woman said, ‘if you ask me, she’s past it, but the geezers with all the money just love her. Okay, come on in. Chip’s up front at the bar.”

  “I’m Claire,” Claire said, and stuck out her hand.

  The woman looked at it as if it were a snake.

  “I’m Carolina Dawn,” she said. “I have kind of, like, a germ issue? So, if you don’t mind, I’ll just pass on the human contact.”

  Claire shrugged, wondering if Carolina paid someone to swab the pole before she swung on it.

  Claire thought to herself as she made her way up to the front of the house that all strip clubs must smell the same. It was a unique combination of hairspray, perfume, pine cleaner, urine, and hard liquor vomit. She walked down the stairs next to the stage and made her way through a large room crowded with small round tables and chairs. Chip was sitting at the end of the bar, a laptop open with a spreadsheet on the screen. Next to his beer on the bar was a stack of register tapes.

  “Chip,” Claire said.

  He glanced at her as he said, “Yes ma’am,” and then as it registered whom he was addressing he looked up in surprise. “Claire?”

  Claire slid onto the barstool next to him and when the bartender approached, she ordered a club soda with lime.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked her, with real concern. “You’re not looking for a job, are you?”

  “Don’t worry,” Claire said. “I know I’m too old for this work. If you need a hair and make-up person, though, I might be interested.”

  “The girls do their own make-up,” he said. “Why are you really here?”

  “Jillian just beat the crap out of your car at the motel up the road,” Claire said. “The state police have arrested her. I thought you might like to know.”

  “Aw, geesh,” he said, and rubbed his face. “Damn it, Jillian. That’s just great. I paid off that car not two months ago.”

  “I’m not sure insurance covers your wife demolishing it.”

  “Wait a minute,” he said. “How did you know I’d be here?”

  “A little birdie told me,” Claire said. “Are you an investor in this place?”

  “I own it,” Chip said. “It’s an LLC Corp, but I’m the president and CEO.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “Did a little birdie also tell you about someone named Amber?”

  “Mustang Sally?”

  “That’s her stage name,” he said. “She’s Amber off the stage.”

  “It doesn’t seem like you’re trying very hard to hide your relationship,” Claire said. “You can’t be surprised Jillian found out.”

  “Well, it was only a matter of time, I guess, and really, Claire, I couldn’t care less who knows. I’m giving my notice at the hospital on Monday, and starting here full time in thirty days.”

  “Business is that good, huh?”

  “It’s a gold mine,” Chip said. “All it needed was someone with some brains and business experience to run the place. The last guy snorted up all the profits and treated the girls like crap. He’d let anybody in, they were selling drugs behind the bar, and nobody but the most desperate, drug-addicted girls would work here. It had a really bad reputation. I’m changing all that.”

  Claire was remembering things she’d worked hard to forget.

  “No one is ever totally safe,” she said. “Not when hormones and alcohol mix.”

  “I’ve got two ex-Pittsburgh Steeler linebackers working as bouncers,” he said. “I’ve got a state-of-the-art security system and a full-time security staff remotely monitoring every inch of this place. Everyone who works here has a background check and monthly drug test.”

  “Sounds like a prison,” Claire said. “How are you paying for all that?”

  “It’s a fifty dollar cover to get in,” he said. “Beers are ten dollars, shots are fifteen, and mixed drinks are twenty.”

  “I better slow down, then.”

  “Private shows start at two hundred.”

  “Wow, you really are raking it in.”

  “We don’t let anyone drive drunk,” he said. “We keep the criminals out of the parking lot and we don’t let anyone hassle the girls.”

  “Are they making anything?”

  “They keep all their tips.”

  “Same as the wait staff?” />
  “They are the wait staff,” he said. “They can sell more drinks than anyone.”

  “If it weren’t for the soul-sucking work, I’d almost say it sounds like an ideal business to be in.”

  “I’m not forcing anyone to do this,” he said. “I’ve got girls begging me to work here. We hit full capacity every night at midnight and after that I’m turning people away. I’m planning on opening two more next year.”

  “So, this is why Gigi cut you out of the will.”

  “She asked me and I told her the truth,” he said. “I don’t need their money; I’m making my own.”

  “After all they did for you.”

  “I didn’t ask for any of that,” he said. “They bought me, plain and simple. They didn’t like the son they had and I needed a family. I never knew what they paid for me, but my dad dropped me off there and never looked back. He barely stopped long enough for me to get out of the car.”

  “What about Jillian?” Claire asked.

  “You know, Claire, I finally don’t care what Jillian thinks. She only married me for my money and Eugene and Gigi’s connections. I’ll make more than enough to keep her in that big house and send my son to a good college. That’s all I’m willing to do for her, and it’s more than she deserves.”

  “And Amber’s not after the same thing?”

  “No, Claire, not at all,” he said. “She refused to go out with me for the longest time; I had to beg her to take my phone calls. She’s a very strong, independent woman. She’s determined to make her own way. She has lots of great ideas for other clubs, like one for straight woman and gay guys, called ‘Cocky Locky’s.’ Isn’t that brilliant?”

  “She’s certainly no dummy.”

  “It was her idea to offer health benefits and dental,” he said. “Next year we’re going to build a day care facility across the road for the moms.”

  “More like night care, though, right?”

  “Amber’s really into lighting and music. We’re going to Vegas next month to do research. This is going to be a real classy establishment, not just your average dive.”

  “Does Jillian know your plans?”

  “We don’t see each other very often,” he said. “I’ve been living up at the motel since April.”

  “Are you planning to go bail her out?”

  He sighed.

  “I guess I better,” he said.

  “In the past week you’ve lost your aunt and your father,” Claire said. “You seem to be doing okay, though.”

  “My biological contributor lost the right to be called my father the year I was ten and he stole my baseball card collection so he could sell it to fund his gambling problem,” Chip said. “He was a mean bully and a drug addict. If it weren’t for my Uncle Eugene, I probably would have killed him myself by the time I was sixteen.”

  “Who do you think killed him?”

  “Someone he owed money to,” Chip said. “Or someone he stole from. That doesn’t narrow it down much.”

  “What about your aunt?”

  “I think that was an accident,” he said. “She must’ve somehow gotten ahold of something she was allergic to, and died of anaphylactic shock. Happens all the time, unfortunately.”

  “What was she allergic to?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Do you think Jillian was capable of killing her thinking you would inherit?”

  “What? No. No way,” he said. “Jillian’s a little too ambitious, but she wouldn’t kill anybody.”

  “I’ve talked to some people who worked with her at the hospital around the time you broke up with Sophie.”

  “That was a crazy time, and you know, Claire, you get two women with a flair for the dramatic, and they both want the same man …”

  He enjoyed this version of events, she could tell. He seemed proud to have provoked such crazy behavior.

  “I think you must have some flair, yourself,” Claire said.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s the cheating on your wife in a way you know she’ll find out about, even though you also know she’s likely to try the same stuff on Amber she did on Sophie.”

  “Not if she wants my money,” he said, as he snapped the laptop shut. “This time she’s going to have to play for pay, and play nice.”

  After Chip left, Claire flirted with a bartender a bit, but couldn’t get anything out of him about his employer.

  “Chip’s the best boss I ever had,” he said.

  “What about Amber?” she asked.

  “What about me?” someone said, and Claire turned to see who was speaking.

  Not only was she skilled with lighting and music, but Amber was as good as any professional when it came to hair and make-up. The merely pretty teen had turned into a stunning pop music queen, done up in pony tails and a fantasy school girl costume, complete with plaid mini skirt and knee socks.

  She may have dressed like an innocent teenage tease, but her eyes were sharp and canny. Claire introduced herself, saying she had gone to school with Chip.

  “Why are you here?” Amber asked.

  “His wife just got arrested for beating the hell out of his car up at the motel,” Claire said. “I thought he might want to know.”

  Amber smirked but didn’t comment.

  “I heard you worked for Chip’s father,” Claire said. “Is that how you met?”

  “No,” Amber said.

  “I heard you were there the day he died.”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened?”

  Amber turned and walked away.

  “You’ve pissed her off,” the bartender said. “I’d leave now if I were you.”

  “Why?” Claire asked. “What’s she gonna do to me?”

  He just shook his head and backed away.

  About that time something zinged past Claire’s head and the glass mirror behind the bar shattered. Claire dropped to the floor and scooted around behind the bar where the bartender was cowering, a metal tray held over his head.

  “How do I get out of here?” Claire asked.

  He pointed toward the front foyer.

  “Hit the emergency exit bar and you can get out,” he said. “The alarm will sound, but keep going.”

  Another shot hit the bottles on the top shelf. Glass exploded and liquor drenched Claire. She crawled around the bar to the entry foyer and got up as soon as she was behind the wall. She spied the emergency exit and hit it at a full run.

  Outside, Hannah had the car pulled up out front, with the motor running. Claire opened the back door and leapt in, screaming, “Drive!”

  They pealed out of the parking lot with Maggie right behind them, but Amber did not follow her outside into the parking lot.

  “What the hell happened?” Hannah said. “I heard gun shots.”

  “Mustang Sally just tried to kill me,” Claire said, as she shook glass shards from her hair.

  “Should we call the police?”

  “Let me think about that,” Claire said. “What would we gain?”

  “Justice? Revenge?”

  “I can do better than that,” Claire said.

  Back at Hannah’s, Scott and Ed were sitting in the kitchen, eating pizza with Sam and Eugene. The two little dogs, Bunny and Chicken, were curled up at Eugene’s feet. The two big dogs were curled up at Sam’s feet.

  “Where’ve you girls been?” Scott wanted to know.

  “Oh, you know, just out doing lady stuff,” Hannah said. “Manicures, pedicures, ripping the hair out of our tender skin so we can be more attractive to men ...”

  “Shopping for cute tops,” Maggie said, “and pretty shoes.”

  Ed laughed out loud, and Eugene looked at him, perplexed.

  “With these three,” Ed explained, “you can bet they were doing quite the opposite.”

  “Doing men stuff?” Eugene wanted to know.

  Ed looked at Scott in horror.

  “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?�
� he asked.

  “You’re on your own,” Scott said.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” Claire said sweetly, as she pulled Ed’s beard.

  “You smell like whiskey,” he said.

  “It’s a long story,” she said.

  “This is not nearly enough pizza,” Hannah said. “I’m calling for more.”

  “Let’s go swimming, instead,” Maggie said.

  “Oh, no, thank you,” Eugene said. “I don’t have a bathing suit.”

  “We float more than we swim,” Maggie said, “and you can wear shorts. We sometimes have to bribe Hannah to wear anything.”

  “Hey,” Hannah said. “I only did that once, and I was very, very drunk at the time.”

  “I don’t know,” Eugene said.

  “I’m the captain of the dread pirate ship The Black Frog,” Hannah told him. “Nobody says no to the merciless Hannah of the High Seas and lives to tell about it.”

  “I’m not the best swimmer,” he said.

  “Come on, Euge, it’s fun. You can wear Sammy’s swimmy wings if you’re scared. Where is my son, by the way?” Hannah asked Sam.

  “Deliah’s keeping him overnight,” Sam said.

  “God bless her,” Hannah said.

  Once ensconced in his own inner tube, and armed with a squirt gun, Eugene had the time of his life. Claire realized it was probably the first time he’d ever played with anyone and enjoyed it. The no vomiting or fainting probably contributed to that. He laughed so hard he choked, and nobody panicked. Sam just whacked him on the back and said, “Okay, partner?”

  “Okay,” Eugene replied, and he did not stutter.

  Later on, after the sun had gone down and the air had grown chilly, the three cousins sat around the fire and compared notes.

  “Jillian is just a younger Gigi,” Maggie said.

  “But Gigi had way more class and finesse,” Claire said.

  “Amber’s just a younger Jillian,” Hannah said.

  “Except way more psycho,” Claire said. “She’s got Chip completely vagi-matized.”

  “He certainly has a type,” Hannah said. “Now that we know Sophie’s a little psycho, too, it all makes sense.”

  “There’s wacky psycho, and then there’s murderous psycho,” Claire said. “Big difference.”

  “We should have called the cops,” Maggie said.