Vegas, Lies, and Murder

by Sibel Hodge

  The first video showed Dana on stage, wearing a silver bikini, finishing up a number that involved doing the splits on a pole. When it ended, she disappeared behind the curtain at the rear of the stage, and Hacker hit Play on the next clip. In this one, Dana walked through the dressing room, past girls in various stages of undress.

  ‘There’s a camera in the girls’ dressing area?’ I asked. ‘What a sleazebag Ivan is. Do you think they go completely naked in that club?’

  ‘No.’ Elvis shook his head. ‘But some clubs do. Some are just topless. Polesque is supposed to be a high-class gentleman’s club, not a strip club.’

  ‘Is that just a way of saying they want richer customers?’ Mum asked.

  ‘What, some clubs are completely naked?’ I asked, mouth open.

  ‘Some are,’ Suzy said. ‘But the actual gentleman’s clubs have proper dancers who keep their clothes on but just wear something sexy. They’re more tasteful, not sleazy. It’s the suggestion of sex that the men are paying for. Some dancers leave their underwear on, or wear bikinis. Some wear thongs and nipple tassels. So, they’re not actually naked. It’s just the same as being on the beach.’

  ‘Since when do you wear nipple tassels on the beach?’ My eyes widened. ‘And how do you know all that?’

  ‘I’ve been having lessons,’ she said smugly.

  ‘What? You’ve been having pole-dancing lessons?’ I gasped.

  ‘Yes.’ She sat upright.

  ‘Sexy dancing lessons?’ I needed to make sure I clarified this with absolute certainty. Ice Queen Suzy had been whipping her clothes off and shimmying her hips and jiggling nipple tassels in her spare time?

  ‘That’s what I said!’ She tossed her super-shiny, super-controllable hair over her shoulder. ‘People are trying to get it entered as an Olympic sport now. It’s no different than gymnastics.’

  Tia giggled. ‘I’ve been having lessons, too,’ she said to Suzy. ‘They do them at the leisure centre.’

  ‘Me too,’ Mum piped up. ‘And I’ve been having burlesque lessons, as well.’

  Dad grinned. ‘Yeah, I can vouch for that.’

  Hacker winked at Tia. ‘Me too.’ Then he held up a hand in Mum’s direction. ‘I don’t mean vouch for you. Just Tia.’

  ‘How cool.’ Tia glanced between Mum and Suzy. ‘What day do you go on? I haven’t seen you there.’

  ‘Mondays,’ Mum said.

  ‘I go with Mum,’ Suzy said. ‘It’s all the rage. It’s the new yoga—didn’t you know?’ Suzy gave me a superior look.

  Since exercise was a swear word to me, I’d obviously missed out on the local newsletter. I knew Tia had been having lessons because she kept going on about how much fun it was. But Mum and Suzy, too? That was a shocker.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me you’d been having lessons?’ I asked Mum.

  ‘Well, I only started going to keep Suzy company, and Suzy didn’t want anyone to know. But then I really got into it, and it keeps you so fit. I’ve really toned up since I’ve been doing it. I’ve got a six-pack now. I haven’t had one of those since before you two were born.’

  I blinked at her because I was momentarily lost for words, which didn’t happen often.

  ‘I found these amazing stars that go over your nipples at Lace in the mall.’ Mum leaned forward conspiratorially to Suzy and Tia. ‘You know, at my age, the tassels don’t cover as much as I want. But the stars are really good!’

  ‘Awesome,’ Tia said. ‘I got some nipple tassels on Ebay that are much better than the ones from Lace. And if you pole dance in a thong, you can get a bit of chafing sometimes, so I use aloe vera gel, which works wonders.’

  ‘I found better tit tape from a seller on Amazon,’ Suzy said. ‘It makes the tassels stay on longer.’

  I didn’t even want to ask what tit tape was. It sounded bloody painful. I downed more wine. Wonders would never cease. This was turning into the most bizarre day I’d ever had in my life—and not in a good way.

  ‘Oooh, what’s the seller’s name?’ Tia asked. ‘I’m going to get some.’

  ‘Bootylicious,’ Suzy said.

  Brad elbowed me, one eyebrow cocked, a sly smile on his face. ‘When are you going to take lessons?’

  ‘Can we get off nipple tassels and back to the CCTV cameras, please?’ I said, nodding at Hacker to start the next clip.

  It showed Dana hastily exiting the dressing room and reappearing on another camera, hurrying down a dark corridor. There were doors leading off it on either side. In front of one of the doors on the left-hand side stood a huge guy, arms folded. There was a keypad entry system on the wall next to it.

  ‘That’s the one who shot me!’ Elvis said.

  The guy wore a black suit, a white shirt, and a black bowtie, but even through all that material, I could see that his biceps, folded across his chest, were the size of watermelons. He had very short dark hair, pencil-thin eyebrows—as if he’d been plucking them—and a moustache that curled up at the edges à la Hercule Poirot.

  On-screen, Dana smiled at Watermelon Arms and whispered in his ear.

  ‘Can we get any audio?’ Brad asked Hacker.

  Hacker fiddled with a few buttons then rewound the clip. We watched Dana whispering again but couldn’t make out what she was saying as it was drowned out by the thudding of the music coming from the club floor.

  Watermelon Arms shook his head at whatever Dana had said. Then there was what sounded like a commotion going on in the club, and we could hear shouting. Watermelon Arms glanced down the corridor in the direction Dana had just come from. He frowned for a fraction of a second and rushed off out of the frame.

  Dana glanced after him quickly before punching a sequence of numbers on the keypad and opening the door. She disappeared inside.

  ‘Where’s she gone?’ Tia asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Hacker said. ‘There’s no camera in there. I think it’s probably Ivan’s office.’

  We watched the closed door. A few minutes later, Dana opened it a fraction and looked up the still-empty corridor. Then she shut the door and ran back up the hallway. The next clip showed her hurrying through the dressing room, hastily pulling on capri trousers and a vest top that she’d got from inside one of the lockers, and leaving through a fire exit out the back. Hacker clicked the last clip, from an outside camera, which showed Dana running through the rear car park and disappearing onto the street.

  ‘Did you find any footage of what was happening in the club that the bouncer went to investigate?’ Dad asked.

  ‘Yeah.’ Hacker brought up another clip, which showed a group of very drunk college guys involved in a punch-up with each other. A few bouncers were trying to restrain them or haul them towards the door, but there were about fifteen drunks, and it looked like they’d needed reinforcement.

  We watched Watermelon Arms appear from a corridor on the left-hand side of the stage and rush into the action.

  I dipped a battered prawn in some mayo and munched on it, deep in thought.

  ‘What was Dana doing?’ Elvis asked.

  ‘Maybe those thugs were right,’ Brad said. ‘Maybe she did steal something from Ivan.’

  ‘No way. My “Little Sister” ain’t the “Devil in Disguise”. She’s a good girl.’ Elvis sat back. He grabbed my wine glass and emptied it again.

  This time I did say something. ‘Hey, order your own!’ I grappled with him for my wine, which he finally relinquished when it was empty.

  ‘What about footage of Dana from earlier in the night? It might show us something helpful,’ Brad said.

  Hacker carried on typing, eyes fixed on the screen.

  ‘What could she have stolen, though?’ Tia asked.

  Elvis grabbed Suzy’s white-wine spritzer and started on that.

  ‘I bet a lot of money goes through that club each night,’ I said. ‘That would be worth stealing.’

  ‘Yes,’ Dad agreed. ‘Or there could be drugs involved like Brad said.’

  ‘Dana doesn’t do d
rugs. And I still can’t believe she stole something.’

  ‘OK, all the earlier footage from the night Dana vanished appears to be missing,’ Hacker said.

  ‘Missing?’ Tia asked. ‘What happened to it?’

  Hacker shrugged. ‘It’s possible it was archived on a hard drive somewhere else that isn’t on their computer network. Or maybe the club deletes previous footage and just digitally records over it when they run out of storage space.’

  ‘Well, there’s only one way to find out what happened to her,’ Brad said.

  ‘What’s that?’ Mum asked.

  ‘We have to go to the club.’

  ‘We can’t just go around asking questions about Dana,’ I said. ‘Not unless we fancy getting shot at.’

  ‘I know. We need to go undercover.’

  ‘Undercover? Oh, goodie!’ Tia wiggled in her seat. ‘This is sooo exciting!’

  ‘No, it’s not,’ I said. ‘My wedding would be exciting. My after-wedding party would be exciting. My after-after-wedding party would be exciting. This could be dangerous.’

  ‘Well, you can’t get married now, anyway, so stop harping on about it,’ Suzy said.

  I gave her a death stare. ‘Thanks for reminding me.’

  ‘Undercover how?’ Suzy asked, ignoring me. ‘What exactly are you talking about?’

  ‘Well.’ Brad leaned forward. ‘Dana is obviously missing. She didn’t take any personal documents or clothes with her, so either she was so scared she ran away straight from the club, or someone’s found her.’

  A guttural noise sounded in Elvis’s throat. Suzy placed a hand on his and squeezed it.

  ‘I’m guessing it’s the first one, since Ivan’s guys were after her this morning,’ Brad carried on.

  ‘So, she’s probably hiding out somewhere she thinks is safe,’ I said. ‘Which, hopefully, is a good thing.’ I glanced at Elvis, whose face held a rigid, pained grimace as if he was about to have a heart attack.

  ‘If we can find out what she might’ve taken, we may have a better chance of finding her,’ Brad said.

  ‘So, what does that mean?’ Suzy asked. ‘What do we have to do?’

  Brad shrugged. ‘Well, Dana was obviously involved in something that happened at the club, so it means us guys can go there, posing as customers, and see what we come up with.’

  ‘Good idea,’ I said. ‘And if you can pass for Snoop Dogg, you can get into the VIP room, too, and maybe get access to all kinds of things reserved for celebrities.’

  ‘I can be Poof Diddly,’ Dad said.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Mum asked.

  ‘Isn’t he a rapper?’ Dad glanced around the table.

  ‘I think you mean Puff Daddy.’ Tia hyena-laughed.

  ‘Or P Diddy or whatever he is this week,’ I said.

  ‘He’s black.’ Hacker looked at Dad. ‘And a lot younger than you.’

  ‘OK, I’ll be… what was that guy you said before? Big Dawgie?’

  ‘Lil Bow Wow,’ Tia said.

  ‘What does lil mean?’ Mum asked.

  ‘It’s slang for little,’ Hacker said.

  ‘We can be Snoop’s bodyguards,’ Brad said to Dad.

  Brad had recently been involved in a spot of private bodyguarding that had ended up having deadly consequences and was the reason our previous Vegas wedding had been postponed. Can you see a pattern forming here?

  ‘You know what happened last time you were bodyguarding. I don’t want any more dead bodies or life-threatening injuries this time,’ I said. ‘And anyway, won’t the dancers you spoke to recognise you from earlier when you were asking about Dana?’

  ‘Well, Hacker stayed in the car because he didn’t want to be mistaken for Snoop. Your dad can disguise himself by dressing up like a rapper wannabe, and I can wear a hat and shades,’ Brad said. ‘I think you girls should try to get hired as dancers and poke around behind the scenes.’

  ‘It says on their website they’re urgently looking for temporary dancers because there are so many high-profile events and conventions going on over the next few weeks,’ Hacker said. ‘Looks like there’s a high turnover of girls, according to their employment records.’

  ‘Is that because they all get shot, though?’ I asked. ‘And I don’t think I want to get my nipples out in public, thanks all the same.’ I’d done some bizarre things to solve cases before, but this was a new one.

  ‘You don’t have to,’ Mum said. ‘You can borrow my stars.’

  ‘Great!’ I muttered. ‘Just what I had planned this week. I was only thinking this morning about borrowing nipple stars off my own mum to flash at perfect strangers.’

  ‘It could be fun!’ Mum said, eyes lighting up. ‘I’ve got a sexy schoolgirl outfit I could wear.’

  I rolled my eyes.

  ‘I’ve got a Penelope Pitstop outfit!’ Tia said.

  ‘What’s a Penelope Pitstop outfit?’ I asked her although I dreaded to think.

  ‘Don’t you remember it from the TV? This one’s a bit sexier, though. It’s a short pink A-line dress made out of netting. And I’ve got these really soft cute gloves that go past my elbows, and a little pink cap, and some plastic goggles.’

  ‘Goggles?’ I said. ‘They’re not sexy.’

  ‘The white boots that go with it are,’ Hacker said without looking up from the laptop screen.

  Oh, God. So far on this holiday I’d had the worst and weirdest two days of my life. A Pepto Bismol Pitstop and a schoolgirl old enough to be a headmistress was all I needed to top it off.

  ‘It also says here they’re auditioning for dancers this afternoon,’ Hacker said.

  This time, Suzy grabbed my wine, since hers was now empty, and downed the rest of it. She slapped the glass back down with a loud chink. ‘I’m game!’

  ‘Me too!’ Tia squealed.

  ‘And me!’ Mum said. ‘There’s a big demand for Grannyesque, you know.’

  ‘Grannyesque?’ I said.

  ‘Yes. It’s like granny porn,’ she said. ‘Except there’s no porn.’

  ‘Do not tell me how you know about that!’

  ‘Actually, she’s right,’ Hacker said. ‘Polesque’s website has several mature dancers to cater to their older clientele. It’s a niche market, apparently.’

  ‘See, I told you,’ Mum said. ‘I’m a MILF.’

  I almost choked.

  ‘Mum!’ Suzy shrieked.

  ‘What? It stands for a Mother who Is Lots of Fun!’

  ‘No, it doesn’t,’ Dad said.

  ‘Well, what does it mean, then?’ Mum asked.

  Brad’s lip quirked up as he tried not to laugh.

  ‘Well, everyone says I don’t look my age, anyway,’ Mum said proudly, running a hand through her hair.

  Brad turned to me. ‘What do you think?’

  I glanced around the table. Mum and Tia were beaming from ear to ear. Suzy had the teeth smile going on again.

  Elvis looked at me pleadingly. ‘It might be the only way we can find out what’s happened to Dana, and time is of the essence. We have to get to her before Ivan’s guys try to kill her.’

  I threw my hands in the air. ‘OK.’ I couldn’t be outdone by Suzy and her tit tape. No way.

  Chapter 10

  Tia, Mum, and I headed back to Hell so I could get a crash course in pole dancing. Tia asked Marge, the receptionist, where we could hire a portable pole so I could practice, and she kindly phoned a company, who promised they’d deliver and set it up in the room within two hours. She didn’t even seem surprised by the question. It was probably a really tame request for Vegas.

  I was a tad worried about it. Knowing my luck, I’d end up with a broken nose. Or broken arse. Or a severely chafed lady garden. I just hoped I could get away with shimmying my boobs on it or wiggling my hips against it, instead of doing some of the freaky double-jointed spinning moves I’d seen the dancers doing on the CCTV footage.

  In the meantime, I watched YouTube videos of pole dancers, and Suzy went in search of outfits f
or our auditions. We hadn’t brought any ‘bedroom shoes’ with us, Mum had pointed out, and Brad had only bought me flip-flops when he’d gone shopping for new clothes. Somehow, I didn’t think Mum was referring to comfy slippers, and I dreaded to think what Suzy was going to come back with. I spent most of my life in practical flat boots or trainers. At a push, I could wear three-inch wedges, but stilettos were a modern form of torture as far as I was concerned.

  Half an hour later, a young guy arrived to set up the portable pole. It didn’t fix to the ceiling as I was expecting. It was freestanding with a heavy round base that anchored it to the floor and was about two and a half metres tall.

  God, what had I let myself in for?

  Tia and Mum practised some routines they’d learned in their classes to give me an idea of various moves on the pole. I watched, gob-smacked, as they spun themselves upside down and round and round, clung on with only their thighs, and did this amazing thing that involved a handstand on the floor against the pole with them grabbing it in between their legs before flipping over so they were hanging upright on it. What the hell?

  ‘OK, your turn,’ Tia said. ‘Can you twerk?’ She tilted her head in a question.

  ‘Don’t you have to have a double-jointed arse for that?’ I asked.

  ‘No. Look, it’s easy.’ Tia bent her knees wide at right angles, rested her hands on them, and did some weird kind of movement that made her bum jerk round and round and back and forth at the same time. How was that even possible?

  ‘I might get a hip dislocation if I attempt it.’

  ‘Well, can you do the splits?’ Mum asked.

  ‘Only by accident when I’m drunk.’

  ‘Maybe we should sort some music out for you, and you can just have a go.’ Tia scrolled through her iPhone, searching the songs. ‘Do you want an old classic or something modern to practice to?’

  I shrugged. ‘You pick.’

  Mum leaned over Tia’s shoulder. ‘Yeah, that’s a good one. She can do the boob swing to that.’

  ‘What’s a boob swing?’ I asked, almost afraid to find out the answer.