by B A Trimmer
As he wrote, I took the opportunity to look around the office. The only personal item in the office was a framed picture on the desk of a woman, which I took to be David’s wife, along with three smiling children. The picture was taken on a beach with a turquoise blue ocean and palm trees in the background. They looked like a nice family.
“I’m glad you could come over,” David said as he looked up from his papers. “Ever since I talked to Mrs. Sternwood last week, I’ve been feeling uneasy. Have you found out what’s going on with Alex yet?”
“Not yet, but I’m working on it,” I said. “I think he’s just trying to keep a low profile, but I’m still concerned about him. When’s the last time you spoke to him?”
“I tried calling him last Thursday to see if he wanted to meet for drinks after work. I wanted to make sure things were still going OK. Alex’s parole was successfully discharged a little over a month ago. Some parolees use the end of parole as an excuse to get into trouble. I called up the Audi dealership and found out Alex had quit. Alex hadn’t mentioned to me he had been planning anything like that. I tried calling him at his apartment and on his cell. When I couldn’t get a hold of him, I called Alex’s grandmother. I hadn’t meant to worry her. I just thought she might know what was happening with Alex, but she knew less than I did.”
“Do you have any idea why he would quit his job?” I asked. “From what I can tell he was pretty good at it.”
“No, and that’s the thing of it. Alex seemed happy there. I could tell he felt good about what he was doing there. Plus, the job made him a good salary, at least enough to tide him over until his inheritance came through.”
“Do you know if Alex has been involved in any criminal activity since his parole ended? Anything involving art or jewelry?”
He looked at me with concern. It gave him a crease in the middle of his forehead.
“As far as I know,” he said. “Alex hasn’t been involved with any sort of criminal activity since his release from prison. You may know I would have been required to report any criminal activity during the period of parole. Is there something I should know about?”
“No, it’s only vague suspicions for now,” I said. “I’ve been following Alex around for a few days and there may be innocent explanations for everything that’s been happening. I just don’t know enough yet to make any connections. You know him. Do you think he would go back to crime?”
“Honestly, no. I think Alex has seen that crime really doesn’t pay. Although, there is one thing I’ve noticed with both con-men and hustlers. Some can live a crime-free life for years, then something will come along that tempts them back into crime, perhaps just the one time, but it can happen.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Like the perfect con will just fall into their lap. I’ve spoken to some of the men afterward. It’s always the same thing: A sucker presented them with an easy opportunity and it’s like they didn’t even think about what they were doing. They just pull the con out of reflex. It’s like a reformed alcoholic accidentally going into a bar that happens to be offering free drinks. It’s a temptation too big to resist. I’m not saying this would have happened in Alex’s case. But I have seen it happen.”
“Do you know anyone whom he was close to? Someone he may have confided too?”
“Only his girlfriend,” he said. “Her name is Danica. I have her phone number in the file if you need it.”
“I’ve already talked to her. So far, she seems completely out of whatever Alex is into.”
“Let me know if you find out anything on Alex. He’s a good man and I would hate to see anything happen to him.”
I said that I would. I handed him a card and asked him to call me if he could think of anything else.
~~~~
I drove to my building and took the elevator to my floor. Unlocking my door, I went in and looked for Marlowe. I searched the apartment without any luck, then went out into the hall and knocked on Grandma Peckham’s door. She answered wearing a purple jogging suit and white running shoes. Her silver-gray hair was tightly curled and today her cheeks were bright pink. In her hand was a Diet Pepsi.
“Why Laura,” Grandma said. “I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to you for days.” She rested her fingertips against my arm. “Come on in. We need to catch up.”
I walked in and saw Marlowe laying on the afghan on his chair. Two years before, Grandma had crocheted the cat-sized afghan and designated a chair for him to sleep on. As I came in, Marlowe turned his head toward me and yawned.
I was sort of hoping he’d jump down and rub against my leg or sit at my feet and meow to be picked up. After all, he was my roommate and my friend. Instead, he closed his eyes and laid his head on the afghan. Within seconds, he was asleep.
Some friend.
Grandma went to the refrigerator. She came back holding a fresh Diet Pepsi and handed it to me. As far as I know, Diet Pepsi is all Grandma Peckham ever drinks. I’d never had a Diet Pepsi before I met Grandma Peckham, and now it’s about the only soda I drink.
When she’s feeling frisky, Grandma Peckham has been known to add a little Appleton Rum to her Diet Pepsi. She calls her drinks Jamaican Jerks. With one Jerk in her, Grandma starts talking and you can’t get a word in. After two Jerks, Grandma stops talking coherently and just mumbles while staring glassy eyed into space. After three Jerks, Grandma leans over in her chair and falls asleep.
We sat on the sofa next to Marlowe and his cat chair. “So, what did I miss?” Grandma asked. “Has everything been all right?”
“I got shot at and almost kidnapped this morning, but it ended up being nothing serious.”
“I’m glad to hear that. To tell the truth, I’ve been a little worried about you. I’m somewhat psychic, you know, and I’ve been having some troubling visions about you lately.”
“What kind of visions?” I asked.
“So far there hasn’t been anything specific, mostly visions of you surrounded by a threatening masculine aura.”
“Being surrounded by anything masculine doesn’t sound so bad right now.”
“Oh, I know you think I’m nuts, but you also know my visions usually come true. Just tell me you’ll stay away from strange men for a few days. You haven’t started seeing anyone new, have you?”
“I keep trying, but no luck so far.”
“Well, maybe it’s just as well,” Grandma said. “It’s been nice and quiet over at your place the past year, not like when you were dating that policeman. Land sakes alive, when you were with him you made a lot of noise. The first night you had him over, I thought he was slapping you around and hurting you. I almost called the cops on him. But when I saw the two of you in the hall the next morning, you both seemed really happy. So I figured he was slapping you around and maybe you enjoyed it. Of course, after the first few nights I figured out you were just a moaner and a screamer, so I let it go.”
I felt my face flush with heat.
God, how embarrassing.
“I haven’t been close with anyone lately.” I said. “But, I did have some Scotch the other day almost as good as sex.”
“Really? What was it called?”
“It was Balvenie or Ball Vinny, something like that.”
“Humm, good as sex? Maybe I ought to learn to drink the stuff. It’s been years since I’ve had sex. The last time I even tried to have sex was about two years ago with Walter Dobson from the drugstore. He worked in the pharmacy and I’d known him for years. We went over to his house one afternoon and tried to do it, but he couldn’t get his penis to work. Figure that, and Walter wasn’t even seventy then. I tried every trick I knew to make it work. I even did the Velvet Hummingbird thing I had read about in Cosmopolitan magazine. That one had been guaranteed to drive any man to ecstasy, or at the very least give him a good stiffy, but it was nothing doing. You’d think working in a pharmacy he could take something to fix that.”
Grandma sighed and looked a little melancholy.
; “My granddaughter says I should just get a vibrator and that way I wouldn’t ever want a man again. She said after her divorce she got a vibrator and now she doesn’t even think about dating men anymore. My granddaughter said she wishes she had found out about vibrators before she got married. She said, if she had a chance to do it all again, she’d just get a vibrator and adopt children from Africa rather than get married and have children the normal way.”
As Grandma was talking, I got up and made my way over to the cat chair. I had also read about the Velvet Hummingbird and the thought of Grandma Peckham doing that to Walter Dobson from the drugstore was giving me the heebie-jeebies.
I picked Marlowe up and set him against my shoulder. He yawned, but otherwise didn’t protest. I thanked Grandma Peckham for the Diet Pepsi and returned next door to my apartment.
~~~~
I got back to Jeannie’s Cabaret about 9:00 that night. I drove around the parking lot looking for Alex’s car without success. The parking lot was packed and I was forced to park in one of the few remaining spots near the back.
As I walked to the front, I noticed a red velvet rope had been stretched across the entrance. There was a small line of men standing behind the rope; all were waiting to be let in. I was walking to the back of the line, when the doorman called me over. He was the same one who I had talked to earlier in the day.
“After 6:00, and on weekends, ladies don’t pay a cover and they go right in,” he said, opening the rope and waving me in.
As I walked in, I could see why they encouraged women patrons at night. The room was filled to capacity with men, mostly in small groups, but there were also many singles. Most of the singles had a look of quiet desperation and confusion. It was as though they couldn’t understand why giving a naked woman ten or twenty dollars didn’t make her hop off the stage and follow them home for a night of passion.
I scanned the room, looking for Alex or Danica. Instead, I saw Annie, the girl I had met the last time I was here. She was seated with another woman at a table near the main stage. I started winding my way towards them. About halfway to their table, I caught Annie’s eye. She smiled and waved me over to the table.
The other woman was several years older than Annie, somewhere in her late forties. She looked very stylish, wearing a low-cut blue designer evening gown and gorgeous blue suede pumps. She was decked out in sparkly rings, a diamond studded watch, and a tastefully gaudy amount of gold jewelry, including a thick ruby and diamond bracelet. Her long auburn hair was nicely styled and looked great. Her makeup was flawless, as was her skin. She had the thin body, the perfect nose, and the oversized boobs of a woman who has both a personal trainer and a favorite plastic surgeon. She also had what looked like the remains of a gin & tonic in front of her. Annie’s glass of white wine was still half full.
“Hi Annie,” I said, talking loudly to be heard over the pounding music. “Has Danica Taylor been out yet?”
“You just missed her. She got off the stage about five minutes ago.” Annie waved me to a chair across from her, next to the woman. “But don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll be back on stage again tonight. She seems to be very popular.”
“I just wanted to talk to her. Do you know how long it takes for the women to come out to waitress after dancing?”
“It seems like they come out almost right away. It looks like they get good tips from the guys who weren’t able to make it up to the stage.”
Annie then seemed to remember the other woman at the table. “Oh, sorry, I’m being so rude. Jackie, this is Laura; Laura, this is Jackie.” I reached over to shake her hand. She eyed me as she offered her hand, knuckles toward me, fingers hanging down. She gave me a strange look, like she was trying to decide why I was here.
“You must be helping Annie to find a man,” I said.
“Oh, you know about her problem around men?” Jackie asked, her face brightening.
“I met Jackie the same day I met you,” Annie said. “We were both over at the Casablanca Lounge and I told her about my problem around guys. She said picking up a guy isn’t a big deal. She does it all the time. She said she’d even come back over here where the guys are already horny and help me pick one out.”
“I’m not sure why Annie can’t talk to men,” Jackie said. “For some reason she gets tongue tied. I’ve been dating a lot since my divorce, mostly younger guys. I think we can find her a man, especially in a place like this.”
“I hope so,” Annie said, smiling. “I have a lot of needs and this is driving me crazy.”
“Why date younger guys?” I asked Jackie. “Why not guys your own age?”
“What you have to understand was I was married to a man who treated me like shit for almost fifteen years. He thought just because he made a lot of money he could treat me like a slave. It was always cook my dinner, clean my house, do my laundry. A few years ago, he started having these mood swings that would last for weeks at a time. It was a nightmare. I divorced him a year ago and I’ll be damned if I ever marry anybody else. I started out dating guys my age, but lately I’ve been dating younger guys and it’s been great.”
“OK,” I said. “I get they are young and have nice bodies. But then isn’t it just sex?”
“Yes, and that’s the beauty of it.” She saw my puzzled look and went on.
“There are few things clingier than a fifty year old divorced guy. It’s impossible to be with a guy like that for more than about three dates before he wants to introduce you to his kids. I have all the money I’ll ever need, so I don’t need a man to provide anything for me. I just want to find a guy, use him a few times, and then toss him away. I get want I want and they always seem to enjoy themselves.”
“Seems reasonable to me,” I said.
“Annie told me about this place, and I thought, why not,” Jackie said. “I usually hit the nightclubs, along with some friends of mine, but I thought it might be easier for Annie to just go to a room full of extremely horny men. There won’t be a lot of talking involved. We’ll pick up a couple of men and use them tonight. If they’re good, maybe we’ll see them again. If not, we’ll grab a couple of new ones for tomorrow. I know there’s a man for Annie out there somewhere.”
“That sounds like a plan,” I said. “Good luck.”
Jackie looked over at Annie.
“Are you ready?”
Annie looked a little nervous, but nodded her head. Jackie got up and led Annie to a table where two men in their twenties were sitting and watching the girls on stage. Jackie was doing the talking. In less than a minute they were both sitting at the table and one of the guys had called a waitress over. I noticed Jackie already had her fingers casually resting on the guy’s arm.
As I got up, Annie looked up and gave me a finger wave good-bye. I went over to an empty seat at the end of the bar.
~~~~
Danica came out from backstage less than five minutes later. She headed toward the waitress station next to my barstool.
“Hi Danica,” I said as she stood next to me, organizing her waitress tray.
She looked over, but didn’t seem to know who I was. After looking at me for about three beats, recognition flooded into her face. What followed was a wave of something I took for fright or worry. She bent down and I caught a whiff of an expensive perfume. She put her lips next to my ear, her soft voice barely audible over the pounding music.
“Have you seen Alex today?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “And I’ve tried his place, your place, here, and every other place I could think of. I haven’t seen him anywhere.”
“I think he’s missing. He left my place about 2:00 this morning. He was supposed to meet me for lunch today, but he never showed up. He never breaks a date without calling. I’m really worried.”
“Do you have any idea where he could have gone?”
“That’s just it. He wasn’t supposed to go anywhere. He said he was beat and he was going home to sleep all morning. When he didn’t show up for lunch, I
called his apartment and his cell phone several times, but he doesn’t answer. I drove over to his place, but his car’s not in the lot. I even called the emergency room at Scottsdale Memorial in case he had gotten into an accident.”
“Do you have a key to his apartment?”
“Yes, but I don’t know if I should just walk into his place. What if he’s there and he just wanted to be left alone for the day?”
“Do you believe that?”
“Well, no. Maybe you’re right, but I don’t want to go there alone. I get off tonight at midnight. Meet me outside the stage door at about 12:20. We can go over and look together. OK? Maybe he’ll be back by then.”
Great, another late night.
“I’ll be there,” I said, hoping my lack of enthusiasm didn’t show.
SEVEN
I walked out to my car and called Sophie on her cell phone. I didn’t know if she already had a date tonight, but I figured it was worth a shot. If she was busy, I’d try Gina. I really didn’t want to go home and flip channels until midnight.
Sophie’s phone rang several times. It was about to go into her voicemail, when she answered. I heard music and voices in the background.
“Hey Sophie,” I said. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Hey Laura. No, you caught us at a great time. Gina and I are at the Beach Club. Come on over. Drinks are half price tonight and some of the guys are really cute.”
In the background I heard Gina yelling “Hey Laura, get your skinny butt down here!”
“OK,” I said, “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
~~~~
The Arizona Beach Club overlooks the Salt River, just south of Scottsdale in Tempe. Of course, since this is Arizona, the Salt River is dry throughout the year. Any rain or snow that falls in Arizona stays up in the mountains in a system of huge reservoirs. A few years back, somebody got the idea of damming this part of the dry river and filling it up. The result is Tempe Town Lake. It’s now a popular recreation destination with the students from Arizona State University, which borders the lake to the south.