by Janet Leigh
“According to my research,” Gertie said, unwrapping the gum I had purchased and popping it into her mouth, “the after party will start at some highfalutin’ club and then probably go back to the hotel for an after-after party.”
I felt heat rise to the surface. I hoped Caiyan wasn’t going to the after-after party with Rocksanna. I took in a slow, deep breath and casually pointed out the window as we passed by the Viper Room. There were so many things I would love to see while I was here. I had never been shopping on Rodeo Drive, I had never see the stars’ handprints outside Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, and I would love to see all the famous homes of the movie stars, but I had a job to do, and being a tourist wasn’t part of it.
The smell of Gertie’s grape gum engulfed the small car.
“What kind of gum did you buy her?” Marco asked, cracking the window.
“It was called Bubble Yum.” I turned and looked at Gertie. She blew a huge purple bubble. Even in the shadows of the car, I could see her lips had turned a bright purple color. She winked at me, and I couldn’t help but be happy she was here. Gertie was a walking, talking Google with a side order of Calamity Jane. Hopefully, the latter part would stay under control this trip.
The girls pulled into a parking lot, and we forked over another ten bucks of our precious money for parking. If Pickles wasn’t at this club, we were going to be in trouble when it came to hotel money. I didn’t think we could get a decent hotel in Hollywood for under $100, even in 1985. Everyone got out of his or her car, and Marco made small talk with the girls as we approached the Choke Club. I knew from research it was the hottest nightclub in this time. Unfortunately, it burned down in 2006. Twenty people perished in the fire when the multilevel dance floor came crashing down. Tonight, there was a long line around the building with hopefuls waiting to enter the club.
“Now what do we do?” Gertie asked.
The two girls were busy drooling over Marco, and we were at a standstill. Marco surveyed the scene. The Christies were dressed like mini-Madonnas. Black leggings and skintight corsets that their small boobs hung on to for dear life. Marco looked at me and frowned.
“I need to make an alteration to your clothing,” he said, moving closer to me and unbuttoning the top four buttons on the lace panel of my minidress. The girls gathered around to see what Marco was up to. His hot fingertips ran down the swell of my breasts as he opened the buttons, and a small smile threatened at the corners of his mouth. He knew exactly what he was doing to me, and I stiffened in retaliation. He pulled the lace open until the black lace bra I was wearing peeked out the top. Reaching inside my sleeves, he peeled the shoulder pads away from the Velcro that kept them secure and handed them to me.
“Stuff these in your bra.” I frowned but did as I was told, thankful he didn’t take that task on himself. My boobs were already a C cup. I didn’t think I needed any help in that department, but when I stuffed the shoulder pads in the bottom of my bra, my dress could barely contain them. Both of our new friends squealed with glee.
“What a totally tubular idea,” one of them said. I knew if they had been wearing shoulder pads we would have all been stacked like Dolly Parton. I adjusted the lacy black scarf I had around my neck that hid my key to cover some of my cleavage. Gertie and the girls began walking toward the club entrance.
“Give me the fifty you’ve got in your pocket.” Marco held out a hand and turned his back on the others.
Pressing my lips together, I held out the money I had left after I purchased the waters. He took the one hundred and the fifty, leaving me with the pocket change.
“Hey,” I started to complain.
“I have to buy you girls a drink, right?”
I grimaced, and he grabbed my shoulders and turned me toward the club. Marco led our little group past all the people standing in line and walked up to the bouncer who was checking IDs at the door. This man could give the Hulk a run for his money. He was very large and didn’t have much of a neck. Marco pushed me forward so I bumped into him. The two people in line started to complain when Marco interrupted.
“Hey, my man, haven’t seen you in a while,” Marco said, holding out his hand. The big man looked at me, leaned over, and shook Marco’s outstretched hand, never taking his eyes off my chest. I saw the money pass between the men in the handshake. He raised his eyes to meet Marco and unhooked the black velvet cording that separated us from the entrance to the club. The people in line started to raise a fuss, but one grunt from the bouncer and they silenced.
“That was a nice con,” I said to Marco.
“He probably gets so drunk after work he doesn’t remember who he’s met. Some things never change.”
We trooped in, and Marco paid for everyone’s cover. Damn, now we were really low on money. I hoped Gertie didn’t tell him about her stash. They stamped our hands, and Marco explained to his new groupies that we would need to go in search of our friend.
The place was packed. We were body to body, and the shoulder pads under my boobs were making them sweat. The multilevel dance floor was centered in the large room. A semicircular bar hugged the back of the dance floor, and U-shaped booths stretched across the wall behind the bar and to our right. There was another bar across the far end of the room with girls dancing on each end. Smoke from a hidden fog machine snaked around the dance floor, making it difficult to see across to the other side. A stage was to our left, and roadies were setting up equipment. Gertie pointed up to a loft area at the far end of the club. A DJ was playing music from a booth in the center of the loft, and on either side of the booth was a spiral staircase that was policed by more very large bouncers.
“Where’s your friend?” asked the brunette.
“I need to find him,” Marco replied, scanning the room.
“We can dance while you look for him, OK?” the blonde said, pulling Gertie toward the dance floor. She shrugged reluctantly and followed them. Marco and I made our way to the back bar, where we could get a good view of the room. I was keeping a lookout for Caiyan and Mitchell. I didn’t want either of them to see me first. Marco ordered two beers, and he tapped the neck of my bottle with his.
“Happy hunting,” he said, taking a long pull on his bottle.
I watched Gertie dance and drank my beer slowly. At the end of the next song, the music stopped and a spotlight illuminated the stage. The DJ announced they had a special performance tonight from a new band that was opening for Rocksanna tomorrow night, the Beasts.
Three boys dressed in baggy blue jeans, faded concert T-shirts, and baseball hats took the stage. They started what I would call a rap but my research on the band revealed it was called hip-hop. The crowd gathered around as the boys jumped and chanted into the microphone. This was all wrong. Where was Traveler X? I’d seen his photo in the magazines Gertie had brought home from the library. After the first song, one of the boys said, “Most of you know our lead guitarist left to go solo.” The crowd booed ferociously. “But,” he said as he held up a finger, and the crowd grew quiet. “We have a new man on the axe. Please welcome the Camp man.”
The spotlight angled over to the corner, and playing his heart out was Campy. His dark hair glistened in the stage lights, and he played like a born rock star. The crowd went wild. Various undergarments began flying up on the stage. Campy ignored the crowd and focused on his guitar.
Marco bent close and spoke in my ear. “He’s pretty good, but his key is visible, and that could get him in a lot of trouble.”
Sure enough, Campy had on a white T-shirt and jeans. The medallion around his neck looked like a key, and all eyes could see it. The eyes I saw looking at it were Mitchell’s. He was positioned at the base of the steps leading up to the stage. He was wearing a badge, indicating he worked with the band. He had on a black button-down, black jeans, and a leather choke collar that conveniently hid his key. He was practically drooling. I assumed the Mafusos had threa
tened Mitchell about obtaining a new key before Mortas got out of jail. I was going to make it my personal mission to make sure that did not happen. I nudged Marco and pointed in Mitchell’s direction. We immediately turned our backs to the concert to avoid recognition by the little prick.
“Do you think it’s Liam’s key?” I asked Marco.
“Most likely, but hard to tell from this distance.”
I surveyed the room. No sign of Caiyan or Rocksanna. Surely the crowd would be going crazy if she were here. I looked up and saw a balcony that ran above the back half of the club. A few people were leaning over the railing to get a better view of the band. I squinted through the smoky haze, but I didn’t recognize anyone.
The band played a few songs and then invited the crowd to see them tomorrow night at the concert. Afterward they called it a night, and I saw them escorted out of the building. I couldn’t get close enough to Campy without Mitchell identifying me. Damn.
“Should we go after them?” I asked.
“Let’s try to find your boyfriend first and see what he knows,” Marco said.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I stammered.
Marco stared into my eyes for a long minute. The heat between us sizzled, and my inner voice was putting an ice pack between her legs. “Right,” he said, cutting his eyes away and turning back around toward the stage. The DJ had resumed playing Def Leppard’s Pyromania, and I saw Gertie and her groupies bebop back onto the dance floor.
“I think we should check out up there,” I said to Marco, pointing to the balcony. He followed my gaze and agreed, motioning toward a set of stairs near the back of the club. One very large man was standing at the base of the staircase. A bouncer, no doubt. I assumed the balcony was VIP. If that was the case, then maybe Rocksanna was up there.
I grabbed Marco’s hand, making him jump at the spark of the connection. Holding hands was definitely out of the question. As we got closer to the bouncer and away from the smoke on the dance floor, I could see he was very clean cut with skin the color of my favorite mocha latte. We made eye contact, and a look of frustration crossed his face.
“You can’t go up dere, dat is VIP only,” he said. When he spoke, I recognized the voice immediately.
“You’ve got legs,” I shouted before I could stop myself.
He eyed me warily. “Vat did you say?”
I realized he didn’t know me. It was eerie, my friend Pickles, an agent from the WTF had no idea who I was, and he wasn’t in a wheelchair. He was also about six foot five, dressed in head to toe black leather, and built like the Rock.
I said, “You have really nice legs.”
He smiled, his white teeth gleaming in the dark club. “Why tank you, but you are still not getting in dare.”
Marco moved in and pulled the scarf loose from around my neck. My key glowed in the fluorescent lights.
Pickles eyes widened. “Vere did you get dat?”
“We are with the WTF, and we need your help,” I explained.
The music increased to higher decibels, and I couldn’t make out what Pickles was saying. Gertie appeared minus the girls and smiled at Pickles.
He nodded and pointed a questioning finger at Gertie. I shook my head no. I pointed at Marco and bobbed my head. He smiled and they shook hands.
“We need to get upstairs. We’re looking for Caiyan,” I shouted as Pickles bent down to hear me.
Pickles said, “I will take you up to an empty booth, but do not approach him. Rocksanna has his key and won’t give it back. She tinks it’s some kind of lucky charm. If she knows you want her new boy toy or de key, he is doomed.”
Just as we were about to head upstairs, Marco’s groupies appeared, patting me on the back for finding my friend and jumping up and down that they were going to meet Rocksanna. He looked at Pickles and shrugged. Pickles led us up the spiral staircase and to a semicircular booth to the right of the DJ. We piled in, and I glanced around at the other tables. In the corner was a booth triple the size of the one we occupied. Almost a dozen people were crammed into it, and sitting center was Rocksanna. She was sipping something out of a fluted glass, and Caiyan was sitting next to her with his arms across the back of the seat. He was engaged in conversation with a guy on his right. I pressed my lips together and tried to fight the urge to walk across the tables until I was standing on his.
A server appeared, and Marco ordered our drinks. Gertie was trying to discourage our two guests from going over to Rocksanna’s table.
“I can’t see her from here,” the blonde complained. I realized there was a supporting column that blocked half the view from their table. Caiyan had the perfect view of Marco and me, but the rest of our table remained hidden. I scooted over a little so she could see Rocksanna. This put me up close and personal with Marco, who stopped ordering in midsentence to squeeze my knee.
The blonde sucked in a breath. “OH MY GOD, there is her new man. Isn’t he cute?” She turned to me.
“Oh yeah, real cute,” I said.
The brunette, who had obviously had a few cocktails, chimed in. “When she’s done with him, I’m going to fuck him.”
Marco chuckled.
Was Caiyan really sleeping with this woman? My inner voice was holding up her hand, ticking off all the people who had warned me he was a man whore. Was I jealous? I didn’t know the roller coaster of emotions that were swimming around in my head.
“Let’s go over and get an autograph,” the blonde insisted.
“You don’t want to make a big deal about it,” Gertie was saying when I came back to reality and joined in the conversation. “Rocksanna hates when people ask for her autograph.”
“But the National Enquirer said she loves her fans,” the blond girl said with her eyes welling up as if she might cry if she didn’t get to meet her idol.
“Yep, we shoub devinitly go ober,” the brunette slurred, and I gave Marco a should we really get her another drink glare.
The server brought our drinks. Thankfully, Marco chose a pitcher of beer instead of mixed drinks that probably cost a bundle.
I sipped my beer and watched their table. Rocksanna, catching us staring at them, reached up and turned Caiyan’s face away from the man he was talking to and kissed him full on the mouth. Apparently this caught him by surprise, because his eyes were open and he looked my way. When he saw me, he jumped away from Rocksanna, spilling her tall cocktail on the table. She thought this was incredibly funny, and she bubbled with laughter. His eyes darkened, and I could feel the anger resonate from where I sat in my comfy booth. I could see him making excuses as the gaggle of people began sopping up the drink with napkins before it could run over on the precious Rocksanna. I was certain spilling the drink was intentional so he could leave his booth and come strangle me.
The people to his right cleared out of the way for him, and he stalked off in the direction of the men’s room. Marco looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “He’s seen you now. I should probably collect my payment before he comes to kill you.”
“Do you think he might?”
“I would if I were him, and I will if you don’t get me home in the next two days.”
Gertie was checking out one of the men at Rocksanna’s table, and then all three of them scooted out of our booth.
“We’re going to get an autograph,” Gertie stated matter-of-factly.
“I thought Rocksanna hated that?” I asked.
“That’s all bull dookie. You can’t believe what you read in the National whatever,” said the drunk girl. Then she linked arms with Gertie, and they went over to say hi to my newest archenemy.
“I’d better go catch Caiyan as he leaves the men’s room.” I took a long drink of my beer. “Better to get this part over and find out how we can help.”
“That’s the spirit.” Marco raised his glass in a toast as I scooted out of the booth.
“Bloody hell, stop it,” Caiyan said.
“Damn, why did you grab me?” I asked. “Why can’t you just tap me on the shoulder like a normal person?”
The music was loud, and he pulled me back into the alcove so we could speak without shouting.
“Why are ye here?” he demanded.
“I’m here to help you.”
“I dinnae need any help.”
“I could see that from where I was sitting.”
Caiyan tensed. “It’s just a job.”
“She has your key,” I said, tapping his naked throat.
“I know,” he said, but his eyes clouded as if there had been a mishap.
“Jake told me about Traveler X—it’s Campbell, isn’t it?”
“Aye, it is Campy, and I’m trying to get him to come home.”
“I gather it’s not working.”
“Not so far.” He ran a hand through his hair, and I noticed his eyes were bloodshot, and he seemed tired. This was new to me because even during our past travels Caiyan never acted or looked tired. He was always ready to go and dragging me along behind him.
“Why is Marco here?”
“Jake didn’t want me to come by myself. He was worried I didn’t have enough training to capture a fifteen-year-old.” I rolled my eyes. “Why did he choose this time anyway?”
“He’s rebelling. He joined a band, the Beasts.” Caiyan sighed. “He’s mad at my sister for leaving him with Aunt Itty. The problem is Mitchell is here, and he’s dangerous.”
“I’m sure he’s out for blood after last month when we tied him up and put him behind bars.” We had custody of Mitchell after the October travel. The unadulterated praise from his family made him cocky. Fortunately for us, he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, so he was easily captured. Hopefully, we could complete our mission without having to deal with the little twerp.