Forbidden Stranger

by Marilyn Pappano

  Julia had already arrived and was dressed in booty shorts and a Lycra scarf top that left her shoulders bare and dipped in a vee to her navel. The color was baby blue, a nice complement to her porcelain skin. The only other thing she wore was a pair of four-inch platforms, easier to dance in, and an expression of mixed excitement and trepidation.

  “I think I’m going to puke,” she murmured as Amanda joined her and Eternity at a table in the middle of the room.

  “If you do, be careful not to slip in it,” Eternity said with a grin and a sly wink.

  “You’ll be fine.” Amanda patted Julia’s arm and found her skin ice-cold. “Once the music starts, just pretend you’re back at my house. Relax and go with the flow.”

  “Easy for you to say. You were both born sexy. I’m trying to fake it.”

  “Okay, I’m here.” Harry’s voice boomed through the large room as he came in from the corridor at the far end of the bar that led to his office and the storeroom.

  Behind him was Vincent. Eternity made a small face of repulsion. Having experienced more than a few of his come-ons, Amanda knew exactly how she felt.

  “You’ll be fine, Julia,” Amanda said. “We’ll be sitting right here—”

  “No.” Hands fluttering in the air, Julia shook her head vigorously enough to set her hair swaying. “I’ve changed my mind. You guys wait at the bar, would you? And don’t watch?”

  Eternity linked her arm through Amanda’s. “We’ll do whatever you want, girl. Just go up there and have fun.” She sent a pointed look Vincent’s way, then added, “Knock ’em dead.”

  Harry took a seat, Vincent started the music and Amanda and Eternity strolled to the bar, keeping their backs to the stage.

  “When I first started, the older girls always said don’t spend time at the bar,” Eternity said, her accent a pleasant accompaniment to the Latin music Julia had chosen. “The men see you standing around doing nothing, they think you’re not worth paying for.”

  “Was that in Jamaica?” Amanda asked.

  “Yeah. I was fifteen, helping my mama raise all seven of my brothers and sisters.”

  “And you’re still helping raise someone,” Amanda said with a nod toward the stage behind them.

  Eternity tapped Amanda’s cheek with one long red nail. “Like I haven’t watched you play mama hen to the younger girls ever since I came here. Monique, Lisa, Rica, Pilar…”

  Three of the four were still at Almost Heaven, but Lisa Howard had quit a few months earlier. She’d been a good dancer but a bad money manager, spending it on clothes and cars and good times when the cash was coming in, bumming a bed to sleep in when it wasn’t. She had often talked about going back to school and when she’d quit last August, Amanda had hoped that was the reason. She didn’t know, though, because Lisa hadn’t said goodbye. One day she didn’t show up, and Harry had said—

  Harry said she wasn’t coming back.

  That she’d gotten a better offer.

  Despite the long sleeves she wore, a chill danced down Amanda’s spine. First Lisa, then DinaBeth, then Tasha. Haven’t you ever wanted to change your life? she’d asked Rick when they’d talked about DinaBeth and Tasha. But three girls who worked together all acting on that desire within weeks of each other? All three getting better offers, going off to God knew where?

  Coincidence? Or something more?

  She was staring into the distance, trying to think of any other dancers she knew who had taken off like that recently, when Vincent walked behind the bar and gave them his biggest, oiliest smile.

  “What can I do for you pretty ladies?”

  Eternity tapped that long red nail again, this time on her own cheek. “Oh, I don’t know. Drop dead, maybe?”

  He exaggerated a wounded look. “You hurt my feelings, Eternity.”

  “I’ve heard that other girls have hurt a lot more than that. What was it? A black eye? A split lip?” Eternity slid a sly glance Amanda’s way. “A knee to the groin?”

  Vincent shot a venomous look at Amanda, who summoned a smile from the memory. “How many times had I warned you to keep your hands to yourself? I even told you what I was going to do if you ever touched me again. Bright guy that you are, you did, and I did. And I’ll do it again if you give me a reason.”

  Vincent shifted behind the bar, his movements jerky. “You know, bitch, you’re not that hot. I can find plenty of girls better than you.”

  “Yes, but will they let you come near them?” Eternity shook her head with mock sympathy. “I don’t think so.”

  “Screw you both.” Vincent sneered. “You don’t mean nothin’ to me. Snotty little bitches.” He stormed away, slamming the door behind him as he disappeared down the back hallway.

  Eternity grinned. “What do you think he has on Rosey that Rosey keeps him hanging around?”

  “They’re related. Vincent’s mother and Rosey’s mother are cousins.”

  “Vincent has a mother?” Eternity shuddered at the thought. “It’s a good thing for Rosey’s family that he’s got this business for all the freaks to work in. Chad, the musclebound fireplug, is also related.”

  “And Derek, the bouncer at the Marietta club.” Amanda fell silent. Rick had worked at that club for a while before moving to Almost Heaven. That was where he’d met Tasha, who’d moved on…maybe. Who was friends with DinaBeth, who’d also moved on…maybe. Who hung out with Lisa, who’d also…

  “Eternity, were you friendly with Lisa?”

  She puckered her glossy browned-down red lips in thought, then shrugged. It was an eloquent gesture that involved her entire body, rippling, artless and sensuous. “I gave her advice sometimes when you weren’t around. We went out for drinks a time or two. Why?”

  “Did she say anything to you about leaving?”

  “No. But it happens, chica. You know that. Most girls aren’t in this for a career. They’re playing, experimenting, enjoying their power over men. They get married, pregnant, fat, lazy and they move on. And we are our own bosses. We don’t have to give notice.”

  That was true. Most dancers were self-employed. Giving notice was a courtesy. But a dancer didn’t want to leave a club manager short-handed; odds were good she would run into him at another club sometime in the future.

  “But if you were moving on, wouldn’t you tell the rest of us? Wouldn’t you want to say goodbye?”

  “Of course I would.”

  “Lisa didn’t.”

  Another intricate shrug.

  “Neither did DinaBeth. Or Tasha. They all left within two months, and none of them told anyone. They just left.” Disappeared. It had an ominous sound to it.

  Eternity stared at her a moment, then circled the bar and poured herself a shot of rum. She offered the bottle to Amanda, who shook her head, then returned it to its place on the shelf. After tossing down the liquor, she said, “They moved on. It’s not unusual. And they didn’t say goodbye. Apparently, we didn’t matter as much to them as we thought. Oh, well. Now…” She set the glass down and took a deep breath. “Eternity has to retire to the dressing room to make herself beautiful for tonight. Enjoy your evening off.”

  “Yeah, I will,” Amanda murmured. She didn’t have any plans for the evening, which meant she would either work on her bedroom or veg out in front of the TV with Dancer. Neither held much appeal.

  The music stopped and a low murmur of voices came from across the room. A moment later, Julia appeared beside her, practically jumping out of her skin. “I got the job!” she said with a breathy squeal. “Can you believe it? I did it! Harry said I could dance tonight if I wanted. Not on the main stage, of course, but one of the side stages. Isn’t that cool?”

  “That’s cool,” Amanda agreed. “Congratulations.”

  “Oh my God, look at me! My knees are knocking and my hands won’t stop shaking. Delayed reaction, I guess. I’ve never been so nervous in my life! But Harry said I did well. He said I’ll loosen up some as I get experience. Of course I will. I’m so pumped!”r />
  Had she been that excited when she passed her first audition? Amanda wondered with a small smile. Probably. She’d definitely never been so nervous, and she was born to be a dancer. For Julia, who’d been born to be a bookkeeper, it must have been incredible.

  “I think I will dance tonight,” Julia decided. “Will you tell Rick?”

  “I won’t see him until tomorrow night, if he’s working.”

  “You could call him. Better yet, go by the apartment. I’m sure he’s there. You remember how to get there?”

  Of course she did. She’d given him a ride home just a few nights ago. But last night she’d come this close to opening the door again and asking him to spend the night with her. No way was she going to his apartment, and she wasn’t calling him. She wasn’t that foolish.

  “I think this is something you should tell him.”

  Julia studied her a moment, then grinned. “Coward.”

  “I’ve been called far worse names than that. I’d better go now. Dancer’s expecting me back soon since I didn’t feed her dinner before I left. Have fun dancing. And congratulations again. I’m proud of you.”

  Before Amanda could take more than two steps, Julia enveloped her in a hug. “Thanks,” she whispered, then just as quickly let go, turned and headed for the dressing room.

  Amanda drove home, CD player silent, thinking about Lisa, DinaBeth, Tasha…and Rick. She looked long and hard at the apartment complex where he lived, but she didn’t turn in. Tasha had lived there, too, for a while, then she, DinaBeth and four or five other girls had rented a house a few miles away. A couple of the girls were college students; a couple held nine-to-five office jobs. It was kind of like living in a sorority, Tasha had said, except the house was shabby and they weren’t snotty, rich bitches.

  Do you think something happened to Tasha? she’d asked Rick.

  He did, and now she wondered, too. Coincidences happened, but so did tragedies. Not that many people considered a crime against a stripper a tragedy. The way they dressed, the things they did for money…

  Dancing around half-naked in front of strangers, Amanda, you’re just asking for trouble. Don’t come crying to me when you get it.

  She hadn’t gone crying to her mother for anything since the day they buried her father.

  Functioning on autopilot, she turned into her driveway, shut off the engine and got out of the car. She was across the yard and halfway up the steps, listening to Dancer howl, when she realized she wasn’t alone. Rick was stretched out on the porch swing, his jacket wadded into a ball to turn the wooden arm into a pillow. He didn’t sit up as she climbed to the porch and turned in his direction, but he did speak.

  “Would you please let that dog out? She’s been carrying on like that since I got here.”

  “She’s a guard dog. You’re trespassing on her property.” She unlocked the door and opened the screen just in time to keep Dancer from tearing through it. The puppy bounded across the porch, not to defend her mistress and territory, but to leap onto the swing—making Rick grunt—and make every effort to lick his face.

  He held her at arm’s length, then finally wrestled her into a position where he could sit up. “Some guard dog. Does she lick intruders to death?”

  “Apparently, she’s decided she likes you.” She shrugged. “She’s a puppy. She has frequent lapses in good judgment.”

  “Aw, you like me, too. Hell, I like me, and I never have lapses in good judgment.”

  Amanda thought it better not to respond to that. Instead, she sat in the nearest chair, resting her purse on her lap, and said, “Julia passed the audition.”

  “Good.”

  “She’s dancing tonight if you want to go see her.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll see her when I’m getting paid to be there.”

  She shook her head, too. “None of my boyfriends ever wanted to pay to watch me dance—well, except the one who got turned on watching other guys watch me. They all wanted me to do it for free at home.”

  “Hey, I paid you nearly four hundred bucks for Julia’s lessons. Doesn’t that entitle me to one private dance for free?”

  “My retirement fund thanks you.”

  “You’re a tough woman.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “I meant it as a compliment.”

  Smiling, she gazed across the lawn. It was time to pull up the scraggly remains of the summer flowers and fill the beds with pansies that would stay bright all winter long. Waves of blue, with clumps of yellow here and there, along with a few pots of bronze mums for the porch. They would be a lovely sight to come home to from her new job.

  But for five more weeks, she was still doing her old job, and that reminded her again of the three girls. Shifting in the chair so she faced Rick, she asked, “Do you know a dancer named Lisa Howard?”

  He was idly scratching Dancer behind the ears, watching the dog make goofy faces instead of looking at her. “I don’t think so. Why?”

  “She worked at Almost Heaven. She was friendly with Tasha and DinaBeth. She quit unexpectedly about a month before DinaBeth did.”

  “Girls quit. You said it happens all the time.”

  “She didn’t tell any of us. One day she didn’t come in and Harry said she’d gotten a better offer.”

  If she hadn’t been watching so closely, Amanda wouldn’t have seen the way his fingers stilled in Dancer’s fur for just an instant. Wouldn’t have noticed the stiffness when he turned his head to look at her. Wouldn’t have felt the change in the air.

  Then his fingers started moving again and everything seemed perfectly normal. Just one odd little moment out of time. “Sounds like Harry needs to broaden his vocabulary.”

  “You don’t think it’s strange, that Lisa disappeared, then DinaBeth, then Tasha? That they all gave Harry the same excuse?”

  “Disappeared is a strong word to use. Just because you haven’t seen them doesn’t mean they’ve vanished.”

  “A few days ago you thought Tasha might have gotten into some sort of trouble. Now you act as if it’s nothing? No big deal?” She drew a breath and leaned forward. “Tell me, Rick. Do you believe something’s happened to Tasha?”

  Chapter 7

  R ick wished he had resisted the impulse that had brought him to the house to wait for Amanda this evening. He didn’t want her to get overly curious about the three dancers and start asking questions. It was one thing if he or Julia inadvertently made Rosey suspicious—they were trained to deal with it—but another entirely if Amanda did. Rosey might be fond of her, but he wouldn’t let emotion interfere with activities that could land him in prison. He wouldn’t hesitate to make her disappear, as well.

  And it would be Rick’s fault for rousing her suspicions in the first place.

  Grimly he stared at her across the porch. He didn’t feel a moment’s guilt as he lied. “Yeah, I think it’s coincidence. I was just curious, but you convinced me there was no reason to be. They decided to leave the club. Maybe they did have other offers, or maybe they just got tired of Vincent drooling over them. Their families and friends aren’t worried. Why should anyone else be?”

  “DinaBeth’s parents broke off all contact with her when she moved out. Tasha wasn’t in touch with her family, either. They probably don’t even know their daughters are missing.”

  “There’s no proof they are.”

  “But—”

  “Amanda.” He said her name quietly, but the edges were still sharp. “Remember? They may be living happily-ever-after in Buckhead. Or Hollywood. Or two miles down the street, dancing at another club or acting in porn movies or running their own triple-X-rated Web site. There are a thousand more likely explanations than something bad happening to them.”

  “Maybe,” she said grudgingly.

  He should have let it drop there, but instead he asked, “What made you suspicious? When we were talking the other night, you were pretty sure everything was on the level.”

  “The o
ther night I’d forgotten about Lisa. Eternity mentioned her at the audition and I just wondered…”

  “They all left in the summer. Popular time for moving on. If they were smart, they headed south and are sitting on a tropical beach drinking piña coladas as we speak.”

  “Maybe,” she repeated, this time not so grudgingly. “So you’ve noticed Vincent’s way with the ladies.”

  Rick laughed. “I heard one of the dancers kicked him in the balls for grabbing her before a set.”

  She clasped her hands primly on her lap. “Actually, I kneed him. I didn’t kick him until he’d fallen to the floor.”

  “You?” His brows raised high. He knew she was strong—pole and floor work took some muscle, to say nothing of the jogging and weights to stay in shape—but there was still something delicate about her. She was gentle. He found it hard to imagine her hurting anyone, but if she had to, Vincent was a good choice.

  She stood, as fluid and sexy in jeans and a long-sleeved rugby shirt as in her breakaway skirts and bras, and walked to the door. “Let that be a warning to you. Do you want to come in?”

  Pushing Dancer aside, he stood, too. “I don’t need a warning. If I grab you, you’ll like it too much to try the same maneuver. Besides, now I’m forewarned. And, yeah, I’d like to come in. I want to see this bedroom everyone’s been talking about.”

  “I’ll give you the grand tour.” She held the screen door until he caught it, then turned away, flipping on light switches. “This is the living room.”

  The colors on the wall were so pale as to barely be there. The wood floor gleamed and the glass tile around the fireplace looked like chunks of ocean water from his last Caribbean dive trip. The furniture was girlie stuff—upholstered, straight lines, not an ounce of comfort in the bunch.

  With its brown walls, the dining room–turned–workout room was more to his liking. The home gym could come in handy, and the stripper pole…oh, yeah, that could, too.

  The kitchen was cool—very modern with an old oak table that easily could have been in his great-granny’s kitchen a lifetime ago. And the bathroom—black and granite with a Jacuzzi tub. Add a flat-panel television high on the wall, and he’d found his favorite room.