The manager, Mike Cooper, met them at the bar. Mallory introduced herself and Gage, then Cooper ushered them into his office. The room looked as dingy and worn as the rest of the place. Water stains darkened the tiled ceiling and cracks split the linoleum floor. Mike himself was stick-thin and sporting a bad comb-over.
Gage took a seat in front of Cooper’s desk. “We’re looking for a dancer who worked here. Rita Castile.”
Cooper scratched his head. “Name’s not familiar. She’s not working for me now. What do you want with her?”
“Just want to have a word,” Gage said.
Cooper slid his chair along the floor to a file cabinet in one corner. The casters on the club feet screeched as they connected with the worn flooring. Cooper slid open a drawer and fingered the contents.
“Had a Rita Castile working here. Six years back. Whoa!” He chuckled. “That’s going back a ways.”
Mallory addressed Cooper. “Were you the manger here then?”
“Manager then and now. Owner then and now. Got a note here that Rita left. Quit.”
Mallory arched her brows. “Any reason why?”
“None that I thought important enough to write down. Look six years is a long time ago. People come, people go. That’s how it is in this business.”
Gage pointed to the open folder. “What address do you have for Rita?”
Cooper recited it. Gage plucked a business card from a holder on Cooper’s desk and jotted down the information. “Any of the dancers who worked with Rita still here?”
“Just one.”
Gage glanced at Cooper. “We’d like to speak with her.”
Cooper shrugged. “Why not.”
He picked up the phone on his desk, an old fashioned rotary, and dialed an extension.
“Honey,” he said a short time later, “can you come into my office? . . . thanks.” He replaced the phone. “She’s on her way.”
There was a knock on the door, then it opened and a woman entered the office. Lines had cut deep around her eyes and mouth, made more prominent by the thick application of garish make up.
“Amanda, these folks are from the police and the FBI,” Cooper said. “They want to talk to you.”
Amanda linked her fingers. “I don’t know nothing that would interest the cops.”
Mallory faced the other woman. “We’re not here to talk about you, Amanda. We want to ask you about a woman who worked here a few years back. Rita Castile.”
“Rita? What about Rita?”
Gage looked to Cooper. “Would you mind if we used your office while we speak with Amanda?”
“Sure. Go ahead. I got things to do anyway.”
Amanda’s gaze followed Cooper until he was out of sight and then lingered on the space he’d vacated. Her woeful expression conveyed apprehension, as if she’d been left on a sinking ship.
A phone somewhere outside the office began to ring as Mallory spoke. “How well did you know Rita?”
“Not well.” Amanda shrugged and one sleeve of the sequined top she wore slid down her bony shoulder. “Well, a little well, I guess. We ate together sometimes away from work or went shopping. You know? Listen is Rita in some kind of trouble? Because if she is, I don’t know nothing about that.”
Mallory shook her head. “No trouble at all. We’re trying to locate her. Do you know where we can find her?”
Amanda licked her lips. “No. We haven’t been in touch since she left.”
“Why did she leave?” Mallory asked.
“She got her Cinderella story. You know?” Another shrug that sent the sleeve down another inch. “Met a man. Got married. Lived happily ever after.”
Gage rose from the chair and leaned back against Cooper’s desk. “What was the man’s name?”
Amanda scrunched up her face. “Can’t remember it.”
“Did Rita mention where she’d worked before coming here?” Mallory said.
“Not to me.”
Mallory looked to Gage. He shook his head once. “Okay, Amanda. Thanks for your time.”
* * *
Back at her apartment, Mallory sat on the sofa in front of her laptop and logged onto the Bureau’s database. She entered Rita Castile’s name and her last known address. “No criminal record or hits of any kind. I’m going to search the DMV.”
Gage came to stand beside her. “Failing that there’s the IRS. Uncle Sam will be able to provide an address.”
As it turned out, contacting the IRS wasn’t necessary. The New York State Department of Motor Vehicles came back with several listings for drivers under that name.
Gage leaned over Mallory’s shoulder. “DOB is too old for the first Rita to be the one we’re looking for. Next one is too young.”
They went through the listings, eliminating all but four.
“I’m going to cross reference these with marriages recorded six years ago.” When the listings came up, Mallory scrolled through them slowly. “I think we hit pay dirt.” She touched the computer screen. “Rita Freeman formerly Rita Castile. Here’s an address.” Mallory grabbed the notebook from her purse and wrote it down. “Not too far from here. We can drive over there in the morning.” She got to her feet and took Gage’s hand in hers. “Take me to bed.”
He brushed a strand of hair from her face then kissed her tenderly, keeping their lips locked as he backed her out of the living room and to her bed. He eased her onto the mattress. While he slowly began to remove her clothing, his lips traveled as slowly over her face. Just that much contact had her burning for him, but it was clear that tonight he wouldn’t be rushed.
“So pretty,” he murmured. “Right here.” He kissed the tip of her nose.
She would have laughed if she could have but he’d moved on to her neck and was now gently sucking and licking her pulse point. She’d never known that to be an erogenous zone but with him it had become one and she began to squirm.
She reached for him, undoing the buttons on his shirt. He was all contours and hard, hard muscle. If he thought her pretty, right back at you, Gage.
He was still taking off items of her clothing. He would have been finished by now. Really she wasn’t wearing that much, but his progress was hampered by the soft, lingering caresses he gave each part of her that he uncovered. He paid complete, unhurried attention to every inch of her as it was revealed to him and now the fire he’d built grew to a blaze. As he put one hand on one breast and his hot, open mouth on the other, she forgot to breathe until the need for air overtook her.
She unzipped him, then nudged him to raise his hips so she could remove his jeans. His erection, hard and swollen, pressed against her thigh. She reached down and stroked him slowly, an easy up and down motion that had him clutching her to him and rubbing his forehead back and forth against her breast.
“You’re killing me,” he whispered.
Was she? She only knew what he was doing to her. She looked at him. His handsome features pulled taut. His body, muscles now tensed and with a slight sheen of perspiration. His erection growing bigger and harder. In response to what she was seeing, she felt another wave of desire.
She slid down his body to his arousal. As she took him into her mouth, he released a soft grunt. She took him deeper and he said something she didn’t catch. She was too lost in him. Too near the edge.
He eased her from him and in a movement that came faster than his next breath, he lifted her, and rolled onto his back. His biceps bulging slightly, he held her above him. His eyes fixed on hers without blinking for one, two, then three wild beats of her heart. He brought her mouth to his and as he kissed her, hot and wet he lowered her slowly onto his erection.
Mallory gasped at the contact and she heard Gage hiss his next breath.
He put his large hands on her hips, gently lifting her, then lowering her again, guiding her in a rhythm that matched each stroke of his tongue against hers. As far gone as Mallory knew he was, she could feel his restraint. He was holding her back, keeping her from taking h
im in as deeply as she could, testing her readiness. She was beyond ready. She wanted more of him, all of him and urged him in further.
Finally, he complied and entered her completely. Mallory’s eyes closed and she made a small plaintive sound into his mouth.
Gage increased their rhythm and Mallory eagerly kept pace. She gave herself over to the sensation, fisting her hands in his hair and she climaxed to Gage’s own shout of release and his name echoing in her head.
They kissed softly, a tender caress of tongues, a gentle pressure of lips, then she let her face loll onto his neck. His arm came around her, holding her to him. Mallory slept.
* * *
Mallory looked at the paper she held and read the address. “This is the street, Gage.”
It was just after nine in the morning. They were on the road Rita Castile Freeman lived on. A garbage truck lumbered down the street, making its rounds. Gage fell in behind the truck as Mallory checked house numbers.
“Forty nine. Fifty one. That one. Number fifty three.” Mallory pointed to a neat semi-detached house painted a pretty golden shade. There wasn’t a car in the single driveway, but Gage parked at the curb and they left the vehicle.
The driveway had been cleared of snow, but flakes dusted the small front lawn and sprinkled the eavestrough and shutters.
Mallory rang the front door bell. The sound carried to the porch from inside the house, a sing song chime. The door was opened almost at once.
“So what did you forget?”
The smiling woman who opened the door was an older and softer version of the Rita Castile they’d viewed on the club advertisement. Her face was scrubbed clean of cosmetics. Her hair was cut short in a sassy bob that swung as she tilted her head to one side. She braced the door with one hand and rested the other on her very pregnant abdomen.
“Oh, hi.” Rita smiled. “I was expecting my husband. He just left and I thought he came back because he forgot something. But you’re not him. Obviously. Can I help you?”
Mallory showed her ID and Rita blanched. “I’m Agent Burke and this is Captain Broderick. We just want a couple of minutes of your time. May we come in?”
Rita swallowed visibly, clearly uncomfortable with the request but she backed away from the door. “Yeah. Okay.”
They entered a small hall painted a cheery pink. Small plaques that depicted cartoon characters hung on one wall. On the other, a trio of framed embroidered cloths were centered. The largest embroidery of the three was a house with the caption “Home Sweet Home” beneath.
Rita linked her hands. “Come in to the living room.”
The floral theme and homey atmosphere continued in there. A large glass vase was filled with perky yellow daisies.
Gage and Mallory took places on a yellow couch. Rita perched on the end of a matching chair, her hands now clasped tightly around her stomach. Eyes wide, she watched Mallory then Gage in turn, her distress evident.
Mallory resisted the urge to reassure Rita. She had a job to do. Without preamble, she got to the reason for their visit. “Did you ever work at The Wild Club, Rita?” Mallory didn’t think it was possible for Rita to get any paler, but she did.
“How did you find me? Please, I’m married now. I’m having a baby.” She rubbed circles around her stomach. “My husband doesn’t know about that part of my life. That I was a dancer. He’s very conservative. He can’t find out about that. It would end my marriage.”
“We don’t have any intention of speaking with your husband,” Mallory said. “We just need to get some information from you. That’s all. How long did you work at The Wild Club?”
“Seven, eight months.”
“Did Billy Wilder hire you?”
Rita gnawed her bottom lip. “Aha.”
“Why did you leave the club?”
Rita smoothed an embroidered cushion, then took the fringe between her fingertips and began to pleat the material. “It was a long time ago. A life time ago for me. What can it matter now?”
Mallory kept her response vague. “It may matter a great deal, Rita. Go on.”
Rita licked her lips. “Billy arranged private parties.”
“Private parties?”
Rita nodded. “He’d invite a few of the girls, the dancers, saying that the tips would be more than we’d earn dancing in a month.”
“Did you ever go to any of these parties?”
In a near whisper she said, “I went to one.”
Mallory curled her fingers around the strap of her purse. “What went on at these parties?”
“Dancing for the male guests, then each guy would take one or more of the girls in to one of the rooms in back to party in private.”
“To have sex, you mean?”
Rita gave a slow up and down motion with her head.
“Were all the dancers from Billy’s club?” Mallory said.
Rita lifted the pillow out of her lap and hugged it to her chest. “Not to the one I went. I was the only one.”
Gage had been quietly observing but spoke up now. “What happened after that party?”
Rita turned wide, fearful eyes on Gage. “We were all driven home. That was it.”
The garbage truck stopped at the curb in front of Rita’s house. The motor grinded. Mallory waited out the loud noise, taking in Rita’s information, then resumed the interview. “How long were you working at the club before you went to that party?”
Rita cleared her throat. “I was new, just there a few weeks. I went mostly cause I didn’t want to make Billy mad and look like I didn’t want to fit in. I really needed the job.”
“So you stayed on working at the club after that party?”
She nodded.
“What changed that made you quit work there?” Gage said.
Rita swallowed. “Billy hosted another party, but he didn’t ask me to that one. I figured he was looking for blondes because he asked only the blond girls and I never told him I didn’t want to go again. Like I said, I needed the job.” She took a breath, let it out slowly. “There was another girl who started working there. She was new, like me, and we kinda became friends. Billy invited her, that’s how I heard about it. Billy was real hush hush about this party. He’d never been that way about the other one. The new girl, Caitlin, thought the whole mystery thing was a kick. She jumped at the chance to make extra money. I told her what went down at the party I went to, and that we were expected to put out, but Caitlin said she could take care of herself and went anyway.”
Rita stopped speaking.
“What happened at that party?” Gage prodded gently.
Rita’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know.”
“Caitlin didn’t tell you?” Mallory said.
“I never saw Caitlin again.”
Mallory leaned forward. “What do you mean?”
“She never came back to work after that night.”
Mallory felt a tightness in her stomach. “Did you ask Billy about her?”
“When she didn’t show up for work the day after the party, I asked Billy if she was sick. He told me she’d cleared out. Quit.”
“You didn’t believe him?”
Rita shook her head. “I knew where Caitlin lived. She rented a room not far from the club and I went there. Her land lady told me a man came by, said he was Caitlin’s brother. He paid the bill for her rent. Took her things. Said that Caitlin wouldn’t be back. She was moving back home with her family.”
“You don’t think that’s what happened?” Mallory said.
“She had a bad home life, same as me. Left home and wouldn’t go back. And, she didn’t have a brother. I told the land lady that, but she said I must have made a mistake and that was that. I knew some of the other girls had also gone to that party with Caitlin, so I asked them if they left with her. They said they had. That they’d all left together. Same as always. But it wasn’t the same. Caitlin was gone.”
Mallory felt saddened at Rita’s response and renewed anger at Billy and Considi
ne. “Did you go to the police?”
Rita laughed without humor. “Are you kidding? I was a stripper and a prostitute thanks to that one party. People like me don’t go to the police. The police aren’t friends to people like me. But Caitlin was my friend. I had to do something. I told Billy that I was afraid something happened to Caitlin at that party. He told me I did the right thing by coming to him. That the safety of his girls is all important and he’d check this out. The day after I talked to him, though, things started happening to me.”
Mallory frowned. “What kinds of things?”
“Crank calls. Hang ups and breathers. Then, one night, I got locked in the laundry room at my apartment building. The lights went out and a man grabbed me, put a knife to my throat. I thought I was going to die.” Her voice broke. “Someone started banging on the door, wanting to come in and wash her own clothes. The guy went out through the utility door.” She closed her eyes. Tears leaked from the corners. “I couldn’t prove that Billy was behind that, but I never went back to the club. Didn’t even pick up my last pay check. I left the city, got a job in a run down out of the way club.”
Cooper’s club, Mallory thought.
Rita was crying openly now. Mallory took a box of tissues from an end table and held it out to the other woman. She plucked one and held it to her eyes.
“You can’t go bringing all this up again.” Rita’s voice was choked with tears. “Like I said, my husband doesn’t know about what I did before we got married.”
Rita began to sob and rock.
“Rita, look at me.” Mallory wasn’t sure the woman heard her as the tissue remained pressed to her eyes and she continued her back and forth movement. “Rita?” This time Rita lowered the tissue and Mallory attempted to calm the woman. “We have no reason to speak with your husband. No reason. Okay?”
After a moment of eye contact, Rita nodded.
“What was Caitlin’s last name, Rita?” Mallory said.
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