Undercover in Six Inch Stilettos

by Carolyn LaRoche

  “Did you now?” Harold played along, slipping another dollar bill into the top of her bustier.

  “Did you see Lola? It seemed like the two of you were getting along.” Cyndi kept the questions coming as she turned to slide her back down Harold’s body again.

  “Why would I want to talk about Lola when I am at full attention for Lady Liberty?” Howard groaned. “This isn’t what we should be talking about right now.”

  “Well, if you want your little soldier to come out and play, you need to tell me what you and Lola did on Friday night. I might want in on a little of that action.” Cyndi heard the boys laughing in her earpiece, and she was afraid if she didn’t get an answer soon, Jason was going to beat Harold to death.

  “Oh, sweetie, just give me my twenty dollars’ worth. I never mix business with pleasure.”

  “Is this the business or the pleasure?” She leaned her head back, giving Harold—and Jason—another prime view of her breasts.

  “Liberty, you are all pleasure.” Harold groaned as reached out to grab her ass. Cyndi jumped back.

  “Come on, Harold…you know the rules, no touching.” She batted her fake eyelashes at him once more to smooth things over, but she knew the moment was lost.

  Apparently, so did the cops coaching her. “You better back off, Mrs. Mills. He isn’t going to give you anything else. And your husband looks like he is going to blow his cover. And yours.”

  Cyndi caught sight of Jason. They were right. Giving Harold one last sexy glance, she slipped through the crowd toward the back of the club. It was time for some air and a cold drink.

  Beads of sweat trickled down the sides of her face and along the back of her neck. She needed an ice cold glass of water. Johnny worked the bar, giving her the perfect excuse to keep Jason at bay. As she walked, someone stepped in front of her as the music started again.

  “Jason! You aren’t supposed to know me.”

  “No one can hear me in this place.” He nodded toward the stage. “What the hell was that?”

  Cyndi grinned and winked at her husband. She knew exactly what he was talking about, but she played dumb. “Did you like the song I chose for you?”

  “Did you see the way that guy looked at you?”

  “Honestly, J.J., I don’t even notice. I just dance.”

  Jason folded his arms across his chest. “Dance! You were practically doing him right there in his chair!”

  “Can we talk about this at home? I have a job to do.” She nodded at that invisible microphone under her bustier.

  “Oh, you can bet we will talk about this at home. If I decide to go home tonight.” Passing her a curt nod, Jason disappeared into the sea of bodies, and Cyndi stayed at the bar.

  “That guy giving you trouble, Cyn?” Johnny indicated the direction Jason had gone.

  “Nah.” Cyndi shot the bartender a flirty grin. “He was telling me how much he enjoyed my set.”

  “I like the new song. “Trashy Women.” Sort of ironic that you, of all people, chose that tune.”

  “Why?”

  “Ummm…because you are as Susie Homemaker as they come.”

  She spun her boob tassels and passed Johnny a sultry look. “Do you call this Susie Homemaker?”

  “Oh, please, you couldn’t be trashy if someone threw you in a dumpster. You are Miss Middle Class America, doll. Why do you think all these Joes like you so much? You make them feel less guilty about stepping out on their girls because you remind them of their ladies.”

  Cyndi put her arms on the bar and leaned in close so only Johnny could hear her. “Don’t we all have our secret sides, Jonet?”

  “Ain’t nothing secret ’bout me, Liberty. Everybody in this place knows I got my lady alter ego.”

  “Do they know how often you wear a purple lace bra and matching underwear under your jeans and t-shirt?”

  “It’s not like I strip down up there on the stage and advertise it.”

  “So, it’s like your little guilty pleasure that’s just for you to know about?”

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

  “Well, how do you know I don’t have one or two little guilty pleasures of my own? Why do you think I come in here every Friday night? My husband makes a fair living. I don’t need the job.”

  “You want to know the truth?” Johnny eyed her up and down, a slight smirk on his lips.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “I think your old man don’t appreciate how sexy you are, so you come in here to get your rocks off a little.”

  She reached over the bar and playfully slugged him. “You don’t know anything about my old man.”

  “Well, there has to be some reason you keep this gig a secret.”

  “What makes you think I keep it a secret? Maybe he knows exactly where I am.” Cyndi shot a fleeting glimpse at Jason down the other end of the bar, but his eyes were on the stage. His frame was rigid, his features as hard and cold as a glacier. A girl she didn’t recognize was up there dancing to some nineties hip-hop song Cyndi had never heard before. Every word she and Johnny had just exchanged had been recorded and surely would be shared with Jason later, if it hadn’t been already.

  Damn.

  Nothing she could do about it, so she might as well push forward. Cocking her head toward the stage she asked, “Who’s the new girl?”

  “That’s Maggie. Just started today.”

  “She’s pretty good, although I hate the music. Lola would have never danced to that hip-hop crap.”

  Johnny cleaned a spot on the bar with a white towel. “Yeah, things won’t be the same without her around here. I wish I hadn’t left early that night.”

  “You left early? I thought you always closed this place down?”

  “Yeah, usually, but not last Friday. Left right after you. Had a hot date. Thought this one would work out too, she used to be a he…thought she could appreciate my little ‘quirks,’ if you know what I mean?”

  “You meet him—her—here at the club?”

  “No, ma’am. Personal ad on one of those internet sites. You know, male seeking female…former male, now female seeking understanding cross-dresser…”

  “They got a column for that?”

  Johnny threw back his head and bellowed, “Of course not! Told you you’re too Susie Homemaker for this kinda life!”

  Cyndi ignored his jab and pressed forward. Johnny was a colorful soul. Cyndi found the man endearing, but a lot of “normal” people didn’t know what to make of him. “Well, how did the date go? Will you see her again?”

  “Nope.” Johnny drew a couple of draft beers and exchanged them for a ten dollar bill. Cyndi watched the customer—a youngster, barely twenty-one, if that—make his way back to a group of college-aged guys. The whole lot of them were reaching out to the new girl, trying to touch her. Johnny and Cyndi watched as Rafael got on them in a heartbeat. Whatever he said worked; they dropped back in their seats and continued their catcalling and caterwauling from a safer distance.

  Turning her attention back to Johnny, she tried hard not to notice that Jason had relocated his piercing stare to her.

  Johnny didn’t pretend though. He shot Jason a middle finger. “That jackass down there is eyeballing you now. Want me to punch him in the throat?”

  Cyndi laughed. “No need! As long his eyeballs are the only thing on me, I’m good. So, why aren’t you and your date going out again?”

  Johnny just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “Just wasn’t a good match.”

  “Anyone here, besides old Harold over there, pay Lola a little too much attention?”

  “They all loved Lola the same as they love you. She was young and innocent looking, very popular with the subset who appreciates them young, if you know what I mean…”

  Yeah, she knew what he meant, and it grossed her out. The music changed. She only had a few songs before her second set. Roxy appeared on stage for her second run. After the older woman, there would be a short DJ break, and then her. �
��Hey, Johnny, I gotta go get ready for my next set.”

  “Yeah, sure thing, girl. If that jackass gives you trouble, you let me know, and I’ll take care of him.” Johnny indicated Jason, who still sat at the end of the bar, watching them with a stony expression.

  “Thanks, Johnny, but I’m pretty certain he will behave himself. He doesn’t look creepy, like ol’ Harold over there.”

  Johnny shot her a wink and stepped away to take an order. Cyndi pushed her way through the crowds, muttering into the mic on her chest, “Tell my husband to lighten up. The bartender wants to throat punch him and toss him out of here for hassling me!”

  No one answered her, but she heard the two officers whispering, “I knew Mills couldn’t handle his hot wife struttin’ her stuff, Hap.”

  Hmmm…they thought she was hot. It was nice to know she was still attractive to other men. Especially when Jason acted like the jackass Johnny accused him of being.

  “Taking care of it, Mrs. Mills,” the voice, louder this time, filled her ear. “You did a good job with the bartender. Was he really wearing a bra and panties?”

  “Always does, boys,” she spoke quietly as she headed to the dressing room. “Says it’s sort of like foreplay. All that satin and lace rubbing up against him all night.”

  She heard a hoot and then a burst of laughter. “No shit!”

  Cyndi smiled, even though they couldn’t see her. “No shit.”

  “Why are you smiling? What’s so funny?”

  She spun around on one red stiletto heel to find Jason standing behind her, arms folded over his chest. “Jason! You shouldn’t be back here. It will draw suspicion. Here, step outside.”

  They ducked out the door into the alley.

  “No one saw me. What are those numb-nuts saying in your ear mic?”

  “They wanted to know if Johnny really wore women’s underwear under his clothes, and I said yes.”

  “Who the hell is Johnny? Another lap dance?”

  “Come on, Jason! That was work—they told me he was a possible suspect. Johnny is the bartender I was just talking to. The one you were shooting daggers at.”

  “That dude has a serious problem.”

  “Come on, J.J.! We are here to do a job together. You’re supposed to be backing me up, not babysitting!”

  “Like you were backing up on that dirtbag?”

  “Jason! What the hell? I was trying to get information out of him. He might know what happened to Lola!”

  “So you stick your ass and your boobs in his face and give him a hard-on the size of Texas?”

  “Would you be reasonable? I am trying to do a job here.”

  “Reasonable? You want me to be reasonable? You are my wife, Cyndi, and you have been lying to me for months about being some kind of whore, and then you talk me into letting you do it again? I think I have been more than reasonable!”

  “Whore? I am not a whore! Why do you keep calling me that?”

  “Apparently I don’t have a single clue what—or who—you are anymore!”

  “So you keep saying.”

  “Maybe I’ve been doing it wrong all these years. Maybe you like it rough and trashy…just like that damned song you danced to!” Jason grabbed her around the waist and yanked her to him. His mouth crushed hers as his hands ran all over her sequined costume, groping and grabbing. When his fingers found the tassels, he squeezed her breasts—hard—taking her breath away. Jason had never been like that with her before. She was torn between being pissed off and turned on, the latter of which worried her.

  “What the hell is with these?” He growled as he sucked hard on her neck and yanked on the strings dangling from her breasts.

  “My boob tassels are a big hit. Ouch! Stop, you’re gonna leave a mark.” She pushed at his chest as Jason moved from her ear to her throat. “J.J., I have to get on stage or they will come looking for me. Roxy is almost done.”

  “Let them look.” He had shifted so that Cyndi’s back was pressed against the brick wall of the building. Grabbing her behind, he lifted her up and used the wall to hold her around his waist. Freeing one breast from the cup of her bustier he licked her hot skin, biting the nipple. “The guys in there are right, you are hot. Smoking hot. But I have always thought that. Apparently my opinion doesn’t matter anymore. Now you need half of Virginia Beach ogling you to feel good about yourself.”

  “Jason.” She tried hard to fight against her husband, but it was in vain. He held her tight against the wall. His touch got rougher. “Come on, J.J. You don’t have to prove anything—”

  He ignored her as she pushed against him again, trying to free herself. The music inside stopped. The DJ would spin tunes for about ten minutes, and then Cyndi was expected to do her thing one more time before calling it a night. Jason seemed to have forgotten where they were and what they were supposed to be doing.

  “Tell your husband to get back inside right now. As much as we are enjoying his attempts to seduce you with his grunts and groans, he has a job to do!”

  Oh, hell! The mic that was attached to her chest was centimeters from Jason’s mouth. The voice in her ear was different this time—more stern, official. She reached up and pushed Jason away from her breast, motioning to the hidden mic on the other side.

  “Son of a bitch!” he cursed, nearly dropping her to the ground like a hot grenade.

  “What the hell, J.J.?” she snapped, trying to regain her balance on her high heels.

  “When this night is over, we have some serious talking to do. You are not the woman I thought you were. I am not sure you ever were.” He turned and disappeared back inside the club.

  “So you keep saying.” Cyndi bent over at the waist, trying to catch her breath. Jason’s behavior threw her through a loop. He said she wasn’t the woman he thought she was? Yeah, well, it was becoming more and more obvious he wasn’t exactly the man she thought he was. A cool ocean breeze passed through the alley and chilled her steamy skin. She shivered against the wind before quickly tucking herself back into her costume. Pulling the door open, Cyndi stepped inside the building once again. As the door slammed behind her, a blood-curdling scream tore through the club.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A second scream filled the air.

  When Cyndi made it to the dressing room, she found Roxy crumpled in a chair, clinging to her yellow boa.

  “Roxy! What is it?” She rushed to the older woman’s side, but Roxy gave no sign of recognizing Cyndi was there as she rocked back and forth, muttering to herself. Leaning in real close, she tried to hear what Roxy was mumbling.

  “I told him! I told him no. I’m not gonna do it. I told him no.”

  “Told who, Roxy? What did he want you to do?”

  “I told him no…I said I couldn’t do that even if he took it all away.”

  “You guys getting this?” Cyndi whispered into the mic as she continued to kneel in front of Roxy.

  “What is she talking about?” the voice in her ear demanded.

  “Damned if I know, but she’s white as death in here.”

  “You need EMS?”

  “I don’t know. I think so. She isn’t responding to anything I say or do.”

  Roxy started shaking violently.

  “Just send Jason back here! He will know what to do.”

  “Can’t do that, Mrs. Mills. It could blow his cover.”

  “Seriously? The woman is obviously traumatized, and you are worried about him blowing his cover!”

  “Mrs. Mills, this is how police work goes. EMS will be here in a minute and a half. They will take care of her.”

  “Whatever. Get them in here as quick as you can.”

  Maybe she should move Roxy to the old sofa she had always refused to sit on? No telling exactly what had happened on that sofa in the past, but Roxy might be better off there, given her present state.

  As she stood contemplating trying to move Roxy, something caught the corner of her eye. Spinning around, she eyeballed the racks of costumes
and clothing that were propped against one wall. With the background of noise from the club, the dressing room had an eerie feel to it.

  Why hadn’t anyone else come running when Roxy screamed?

  Cyndi needed to tell someone that the paramedics would be arriving soon, but she didn’t want to leave Roxy. After a quick check of the area for anything that the older woman could injure herself on, Cyndi pulled the dressing room door closed behind her as she ran to the main room.

  Johnny stood at the bar, doing his thing. She ran over to where he stood shaking a mixed drink.

  “Johnny! Something is wrong with Roxy! I called for an ambulance. They will be here soon. Send them to the dressing room!”

  She ran back to where Roxy still was, pushing through the crowd. Someone said something in her ear mic, but she didn’t pay attention. Her only focus was on getting back to the older woman before she could harm herself further. Cyndi grabbed the doorknob to the dressing room, turned it, and ran straight into the solid wood door.

  She stepped back, pushing at the door with all she had. It still wouldn’t budge. “Roxy! Roxy, let me in!”

  “The door’s locked!” she yelled into the mic on her chest.

  “What door?” came the reply.

  “To the dressing room! I closed it when I went to tell Johnny about the paramedics.”

  “So unlock it.” She could almost hear the “duh” at the end of his sentence.

  “Right. Because I didn’t think about that! It’s locked on the inside!” Cyndi rattled the doorknob with as much force as she could muster, finally throwing her shoulder against it. Without warning, the door finally gave way, and she tumbled into the dressing room.

  “Roxy!” She ran to where she had left the woman a few seconds ago. “What the…”

  “What’s wrong?” the voice in her ear asked.

  “She’s gone. Roxy is gone.”

  “What do you mean she’s gone?”

  “She’s not here. The room is empty.”

  The shrill siren of the ambulance filled the air. It was so loud it felt like the vehicle was in the room. Cyndi ran over to the window, stopping short. The window was wide open, Roxy’s yellow feather boa trailing out of it.