by B A Trimmer
After ten minutes, the three songs comprising her act finished. The music faded and the room seemed to come out of a trance. Men and women again began talking, laughing, and walking around. The blonde gathered up a sizeable pile of bills that had accumulated in the center of the stage and disappeared behind the curtain. Alex again sat down at the bar. I supposed he was waiting for her to come out again as a cocktail waitress.
My waitress came to the table carrying another ginger ale. “That’s OK,” I started to say. I hadn’t drunk more than half of my foul tasting drink and hadn’t planned on ordering another.
“It’s from the lady at the table over there,” she said, pointing to a table by the stage.
I looked over to the table the waitress had been pointing to. I saw a woman smiling and holding up her hand, wiggling her pinky at me. This was the same woman that had been standing next to the stage, wiggling her wiener, a few minutes earlier.
The woman got up and came over to my booth. She was a few years younger than me and a little shorter. She was wearing white denim shorts and a green button down Oxford. On her feet, she wore white socks and brown leather sandals. She had short blonde hair, cut in a style that fit her face nicely, and just a splash of make-up. Her lipstick was a shade of pink that went well with her skin and hair.
“My name’s Annie,” she said. “I saw you when you came in.”
Her soft voice had a velvety smooth and soothing quality, almost like a cat purring.
“I’m Laura, Laura Black,” I said as she slid into the booth, across from me.
“It didn’t look like you’re here with anybody, so I figured you came here to pick up a man, same as me.” She stopped for a moment as if unsure how to go on. “Umm, I was just thinking since we both are here to pick up a guy, maybe we could do it together. You know, work as a team.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But I didn’t come here to pick up a man. Actually, I’m working”
“Oh, must be some job where you can do it surrounded by a bunch of horny guys,” she said in her soft voice.
Danica, or whatever the blonde’s name was, had just come out of the back. She was now a cocktail waitress and was talking to Alex at the bar. They talked for several seconds then she gave out a squeal of joy and hugged him.
“I wish I could say my job was full of glamor and excitement,” I said, “but most of the time I end up following guys around to places like this.”
I looked at her and saw she was still glancing around at the guys in the room.
“So, you came here to pick up a guy?” I asked. “How’s it going?”
“Not so good,” she said with a sad tone in her voice. “I really want to be with a guy, it doesn’t need to be a long term thing, I’d settle for a weekend. Even a one night stand would be OK. But I’m painfully shy around men. I’ve tried the clubs and some of the bars, but I can’t seem to work up the nerve to just walk up to a man and ask him out. I never know how to start or what to say. The few times I’ve tried were disasters, I’d panic and stand there stammering while the guy looked at me like I was insane. I thought finding a guy would be easier in a strip club. All of the guys here are already horny, so it should be easier, right?”
“I’d think so,” I said. “So just pick out one you think is cute and walk over to him. You don’t need to be cleaver. Just introduce yourself and tell the guy you think he’s handsome and you’d like to go out with him. Don’t take it personally if the first few guys turn you down, since I suspect most of the guys here are married, ring or not. I bet by the fourth or fifth one, you’ll have a date for tonight.”
“Thanks,” Annie said. “I’ll try. I can’t do any worse.”
I saw Danica had begun her waitress rounds and the Alex was heading for the exit. The two big guys were also getting up, their eyes fixed on Alex. I threw a five on the table, grabbed my purse, and got up to go.
“I’m sorry Annie, but I really have to leave,” I said. “Good luck finding the right man, or at least one who’ll go out with you!”
She finger waved good-bye and I followed Alex out the door.
~~~~
After Alex left the club, he drove back to his apartment. Half an hour later, he came out in a swimsuit, a towel in one hand, and a beer in the other. He walked to the apartment’s main pool, swam a dozen laps, and then laid out for over an hour.
The day had gotten warmer, still without a cloud from horizon to horizon. The two guys in the Lincoln sat in the lot about a dozen spaces from Alex’s apartment, trying to look inconspicuous. They had managed to find a covered parking spot.
I wasn’t so lucky and I had to move my car every few minutes to take advantage of the shadow from a cluster of Mexican fan palms. Strange as it sounds, I don’t think they ever made me. Maybe it was just because they were amateurs? Professionals would have made me in a heartbeat.
I called Sophie and had her run the license plate on the Lincoln. She called back ten minutes later and said the car was registered to Arizona Security Enterprises, whoever they were. She did a quick check, but couldn’t find any more information on them. I knew she would also run a full report on the company, but that always takes some time.
At 4:00, I called Lenny and downloaded him on Alex’s activities. All I had at this point was he was alive, had a stripper girlfriend named Danica Taylor, and was engaged in some suspicious activities, but nothing obviously illegal. I also told him about the tail from Arizona Security Enterprises.
Lenny’s enthusiasm was restrained. He gave me a five-minute lecture about how important the assignment was and not to screw it up. He then barked at me to continue the surveillance in hopes of obtaining something actually useful.
At 4:45, Alex walked back to his apartment, only to emerge fifteen minutes later wearing a Phoenix Suns jersey. I followed him, as did the Lincoln, to Duke’s, a sports bar on the Scottsdale greenbelt at Miller and McDowell. There was a chartered bus in front of the bar and I suspected Alex was going to the basketball game.
Alex went into the bar and I sat in my car. Ten minutes later he came back out, leading a group of four men. They were all dressed in some type of basketball jersey. They disappeared into the bus, along with thirty or forty other people who’d also spilled out of the bar. I stayed until the bus pulled out of the parking lot. The Lincoln was on its tail.
Alex wouldn’t be back to the bar until after 11:00. I didn’t think anything bad could happen at a basketball game, so I took off. I was going to let the guys in the Lincoln follow Alex around the US Airways arena. I was just relieved to have the evening off.
~~~~
I drove down to Hop’s Thai restaurant, just down the street from my apartment building. They’ve got the best green curry chicken in town. The spiciness level is somewhere between having my eyes water and outright pain. I got an order, to-go, along with a couple of egg rolls.
When I walked into my apartment, Marlowe strolled in from the bedroom balcony. I opened a Diet Pepsi from the fridge and flipped channels until I came across the Phoenix Suns game. I put the Thai food on the coffee table. Marlowe came over and sniffed at it, then went back out the balcony. I knew he was going back to Grandma Peckham’s to see if she had anything better.
On the TV, the Suns were outclassing the Lakers and were beating them badly. I looked for Alex in the crowd but didn’t spot him. After a half an hour of watching the hot, sweaty, men run back and forth on the court, my mind drifted back to sex. Thinking about this brought me back to Reno and the two months we had spent together.
Funny as it sounds, I had met Jackson Reno at a Pimps ‘n Ho’s Halloween party Gina had a little over a year ago. When Gina first told me about the party, I told her I wasn’t looking to meet anyone new. It was too soon after my divorce. She finally convinced me to go, just for fun.
To get into the spirit of the party, I slutted myself up by wearing a see-through red top with a black push-up bra, a black leather mini-skirt, four-inch come-fuck-me pumps, and ragged black fis
hnets. I then put on enough eye make-up to look like a raccoon.
When I got there, Gina introduced me to a guy she had worked with in her former life as a detective with the Scottsdale police department. He was dressed in full pimp splendor with a plum zoot suit, gold chains, and a red hat with a long yellow feather.
He got a drink for me and we started talking. I found out his name was Jackson Reno and he was a plainclothes cop for the city of Scottsdale. He found out I did investigations for Lenny’s law firm. I found out we both liked Thai food, Mexican beaches, and old Humphrey Bogart movies. I told him I was turned on by slow backrubs and firm butts. He told me he loved having his earlobes nibbled and he liked firm butts too. We started laughing and before long we were sitting close to each other on Gina’s couch.
After what seemed like only a few minutes it was after midnight and the party was winding down. I apologized to Reno for keeping him to myself all night. He leaned over and softly kissed me. He then wrote his phone number in the palm of my hand.
We went out the next night, and the next, and the next. Reno was sweet, patient, understanding, and was a better cook than me. Not only did he have a great body, he was also a fantastic lover. He just seemed to know where to touch me. He made me feel things I didn’t think were possible. Week after week flew by. Looking back, that November was probably the happiest month of my life.
Starting in early December, life started encroaching on us. Reno had to work a series of night assignments. Gina and I were busy night and day trying to get evidence an internet millionaire named Rocco Moro was being unfaithful to his wife. Rocco had signed a prenuptial contract with a clause if he were ever unfaithful, the contract would become invalid. If that happened his wife, Lenny’s client, was going to dump his ass and get half of his millions.
Even with our scheduling conflicts, Reno and I still spent every moment we could together. I was so happy. I had a real relationship with a normal guy who seemed stable. It was the first time since my divorce I felt like things were going the right direction.
But then on Christmas Eve, it all fell apart. The night had started well enough. After Reno and I had a beautiful dinner at Frankie Z’s, our favorite Italian restaurant, we went back to his place and had some seriously wonderful sex.
As we lay in bed, we exchanged presents. I gave Reno a new watch. His had broken in a fight with a drug dealer a month before and he needed a new one. I could tell he liked and it made me feel great to see him put it on. Then I opened my present. It was a gun. The box said it was a 9-milimeter Glock, Model 26. I picked it up with my thumb and forefinger. It wasn’t much bigger than my hand.
“Hey,” I said. “What a cute little gun.”
“Your .25 caliber pistol wouldn’t stop anybody,” Reno said. “This one is small enough to fit in your purse, but it’s scary enough to make the bad guys think twice. It’s so small it’s called the Baby Glock.”
“Ahhhh,” I said. “Our first baby.”
I was expecting him to come back with something sarcastic, but instead he looked at me and asked:
“Why don’t you move in with me?”
I was stunned. My mind went blank. I even think I stopped breathing.
“You’re over here most of the time anyway,” he said. “It would save you a ton on rent. Marlowe would like it here too.”
I sat there with my mouth open, making “ahhh, aahhh” noises. I didn’t know what to say.
What, just give up my independence? Are you nuts?
Reno was wonderful, but I had just gotten out of a rotten marriage. Did I want to jump back into something serious again? After only two months of dating? Reno looked at me for a moment, reading my thoughts, and then his face fell.
“You don’t want to?” he asked.
“Wow,” I said. “It’s not I don’t want to, it’s just kind of sudden.”
“OK, do you have any interest in moving in with me?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe, probably,” I said. “I’m sorry. This is all just happening sort of fast. Let me sleep on it and we can talk about it tomorrow morning. I’ll come over first thing and make you a Christmas breakfast. Will that be OK?”
I could tell this wasn’t OK as I got out of the bed and got dressed, but he gave me a hug and a kiss anyway. I knew I should have stayed and worked it out with Reno then, but I was feeling trapped and I just wanted to go home and think. Even so, the front door to Reno’s house made a very sad and lonely sound as I closed it and stepped out into the warm Arizona night.
When I got to my apartment it felt empty. Since I had been gone so often, Marlowe had taken to sleeping next door at Grandma Peckham’s. I sat on the couch, flipping channels for an hour, trying to convince myself I wasn’t in love with Reno. It wasn’t working and at last I gave up.
OK, I thought, I’ll go back over to Reno’s and see about starting a new adventure with him. Who knew? Maybe this was just the way it was meant to happen.
I was walking out the door when my phone rang. I figured it was Reno. Instead it was Lenny.
“We’ve located Rocco Moro,” he said. “He’s with his mistress at a place in Valle d'Aosta, that’s in Italy. The locals are keeping an eye on him, but we’ve got to get solid evidence of his affair, along with a proper chain of custody, before he disappears again. Gina will meet you at Sky Harbor airport in 40 minutes. It’s time to save the world. Grab your camera and move your ass.”
In my rush to get out the door, I didn’t take my toothbrush, my make-up bag, or a coat. I figured I could call Reno from Sky Harbor airport, but by the time I got there I had to run just to get on the plane. There was a blizzard in New York and the flight was forced to circle JFK for an hour, which meant I also had to run to catch the Milan flight. Before I dashed onto the plane I tried to call Reno, but he didn’t answer. Given the time, he was most likely still asleep or in the shower. I left a message telling him I had to miss breakfast but would call him back as soon as I could.
Before I knew it, it was eighteen hours later and I was creeping along the snow covered second story bedroom balcony of a château in the Italian countryside. Gina was keeping lookout on the ground below me. It was dark, the wind was blowing snow against my face, and I had never been so cold in my life.
I ended up taking some great pictures of Rocco Moro doing some very naughty and nasty things with his teenage mistress. Now, I don’t know about the laws in Italy, but I’m pretty sure some of the things they were doing would be illegal in Arizona.
I swung my leg over the balcony and started climbing down. The plan was for Gina and me to fade into the Italian countryside, find the car we had stashed along the side of the road, then drive back to Milan.
Gina heard noises from the house and whispered for me to hurry. I had lowered myself about five feet when my foot slipped on the ice. I tried to catch myself but my numb fingers couldn’t get a grip on the snowy ledge. I fell almost fifteen feet and landed badly on my leg. There was a loud snap and a bolt of pain. I knew it was broken.
Gina was able to get me to a rural clinic. Only the doctors spoke any English, my cell phone was dead, and there wasn’t a telephone in sight of my bed. Gina said she stayed with me for the first two days, but I was too doped up to remember much about her being there. She then flew back to Scottsdale to deliver the pictures to Lenny.
He was thrilled. Rocco’s wife used the evidence to force a generous divorce settlement from her cheating husband. Lenny ended up making a pile of cash, as usual.
Sophie came to Italy two weeks later to help me get back to the States. By then, I had a walking cast on my leg and was able to move around on crutches. On the trip back, she asked if I had straightened things out with Reno. I told her “No.”
“Laura, you gotta call him,” she said. “You know, he’s going to think you’ve dumped him. Gina said he called her last week to see if she knew what was going on. She told him you were out of the country and would be back soon. She didn’t think Reno believed her.”
/> “I know,” I said. “I was supposed to see him on Christmas, but that was two weeks ago. I can’t just call him now. I still don’t even know what I’m going to tell him. When I get back to Scottsdale, I’ll go over and see him. With the cast, maybe I can use the sympathy ploy.”
Only that didn’t go as planned either. I couldn’t drive and I didn’t want to take a cab. After I got back, it was another three days before I got up the courage to have Sophie drive me over to Reno’s house. When we got there it was eight at night and Reno wasn’t home. Sophie and I parked across the street and sat for an hour and a half.
At 9:30 Reno’s car came down the street, but we saw he wasn’t alone. I didn’t recognize who she was, but she had big blonde hair and was wearing a red dress. We both ducked down while Reno pulled into his garage. Lights went on in the living room and then ten minutes later in the bedroom. We stayed until it was obvious there were shadows of two people on the bedroom window shade. I started crying and Sophie drove me home.
~~~~
The Suns beat the Lakers 115 to 98. At 11:00, I drove back to Duke’s. Fifteen minutes later the bus pulled into the lot. The people were in a rowdy mood as they spilled out. Alex got into his car and drove directly to his apartment, the Lincoln following almost on his bumper the whole way.
I was going to stay around for half an hour to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere else. But, in less than 20 minutes the living room light went off. Five minutes later, the bedroom light went off as well. Alex was in for the night.
I drove home to Marlowe.
FOUR
The alarm started chirping and I hit the snooze bar to shut it off. I remembered setting the alarm the night before in hopes of getting to Alex’s before 8:00. Nine minutes later it went off again. I hit the snooze again, opened one eye, and looked at the clock: 6:09. Nine minutes later the happy chirping started again. I shut it off again and looked at the bedroom window. It was still dark outside.