Elle
It was a Wednesday evening when I sat up against the wall of the dance studio, looking at my reflection in the mirror covering the opposite wall.
Lexi sat beside me, her hair slick with sweat, darkened by it. We looked like sisters, two little Aryan girls sat side by side.
Only she was prettier, and a better dancer. The girl was as graceful as a swan, and just as flexible.
We sat there now, panting as the other girls in the class disappeared out of the door. Our instructor, Claire, lingered for a moment in the corner before setting off as well.
“You will remember to lock up, won't you Lexi? I'll leave the keys in the lock for you. Just drop them through my office letterbox when you're done.”
Lexi had been a student here for a while, so was entitled to these little perks and privileges. This one simply meant she could keep on training and dancing in the studio for as long as she wished on Wednesday evenings.
I'd learned that Wednesday was her only night off, so we often went for a drink after to catch up. She might well have been the nicest girl I'd ever met. Everything I said was greeted with genuine interest. Not feigned or overdone, just completely real and sincere. She was so smiley and laughy, with one of the cutest giggles I'd ever seen. I was amazed that she was single,
“I don't really have time for a boyfriend,” was her answer. “What with my classes and my job in the evening, you know. Anyway, I'm not sure many guys would be happy about my job.”
It was something that she never really spoke about. She told me she just worked in a club. I assumed that she meant behind the bar or in the cloakroom or something. I wasn't one to probe in general, but had to ask.
“Why would a guy have a problem with your job though? Aren't you a waitress or barmaid or something?”
She screwed up her face a little. “Not exactly. I used to work behind the bar, now I work in front of it.” She was suddenly a little abashed, her words less bouncy and jovial.
“What do you mean?”
She paused. “I don't know Elle, its probably not something you wanna hear about.”
“Oh come on, you can't leave me hanging like that Lexi!”
“You'll probably disown me when I tell you.”
I said nothing but just stared at her with open eyes, nodding my head a fraction to coax the truth from her lips.
She took a deep breath. “I'm a stripper, OK Elle, an exotic dancer.”
My head flew back, shortening my neck as my eyebrows shot up in a look of genuine surprise.
“A stripper! No way!”
She nodded coyly.
“Shit, whoa, I mean seriously? A stripper? Are you pulling my leg or something? Is this a wind up?” I was laughing. I don't know if it was awkwardly or nervously or whatever.
Her tone remained drier than the Sahara. “Nope, God's honest truth.”
I sat back, my mouth open a little bit. I'm sure it wasn't the sort of reaction she wanted. But then, it was probably what she expected. I guess that's why she hadn't told me before.
“I never, ever in a million years would have pegged you for that. Seriously, a stripper?!”
“YES! I knew I shouldn't have told you. I knew you wouldn't get it.”
“Hey now, how do you expect me to react?! It's just so not you Lexi.”
“Well, to be fair Elle, you don't really know me that well.” Her words were a little biting, a little frosty. What did I expect? I was literally laughing in her face about her job.
Not cool Elle.
“I know, look, I'm sorry babe. I shouldn't have reacted like that. So is it like stage dancing in a club?”
Gosh this conversation was going to be totally out of my comfort zone.
“Sometimes. Sometimes it's private dancing.”
“And do you, you know....go nude?”
She nodded, her face still more disgruntled than I'd ever seen it. I guess that was understandable.
A short silence cascaded down onto us, an awkwardness hanging in the air. Maybe I should never have asked. Can I go back in time? Where's the Time Traveller and his machine?!
“So where is the club?” I asked finally, breaking this painfully awkward silence.
“It's on Pine Street, you probably won't know it. Not much down there really.”
I was careful with my words. I didn't want to annoy her any more or make her feel ashamed or embarrassed in any way. I had no place to do that. Lexi was a great girl, and a great friend. I had no idea why she did it, but she must have had a damn fine reason.
“So, how did you get into that?” I asked, ensuring my tone was light and not interrogatory in any way.
“Well, I know this is gonna sound funny, but I actually wanted to do it. Seriously. I love dancing, and it's just another style I enjoy. I really don't mind getting my kit off, never have.”
“But those guys ogling you. Isn't that a bit, I dunno, creepy?”
“That's a frame of mind. I find it sexy. The power I have over them, it appeals to me. And, well, this place doesn't come cheap, so the money really helps!” Her tone was lightening up again, a cheeky grin spreading over her face.
“And anyway,” she continued, “it's not like an open strip club where anyone can come down. Any potential client is carefully vetted, so it's all safe and secure. Seriously, any place owned by the Logans is always well organized and safe.”
No way. The Logans! The name shot into my head like a bullet.
“What's than name again?” I asked, trying to keep a lid on my shock.
“The Logans. A guy called Kyle Logan runs it. It was owned by his dad, Charles, but he was killed not long ago. I guess maybe Kyle owns it now.”
Holy shit! Alice's boyfriend runs a fucking strip club!
I couldn't contain my amazement at it, my face flying wide open. “So weird. Such a small world! So Alice's boyfriend runs a strip club?!”
Alice. It just came to me. She'd told me a while ago that she met Lexi through work. And she was seeing Lexi's boss.
NO WAY! That's how they met! She was a stripper too!
“Hang on,” I said quickly, the realization hitting me like a sledgehammer. “Answer me this. Truthfully. Is Alice a stripper as well? Is that how she and Kyle met...at the club?”
Lexi screwed up her face as she liked to when faced with a difficult question. I didn't know her that well but I knew that she was dreadful at lying.
She nodded slowly, an “i've been caught” expression on her face. “Yep, although she only worked for a few months. She doesn't do it any more.”
I literally couldn't believe it. Although, it kinda all made sense. Alice had been really coy when I'd asked her how she knew Lexi. She'd said they used to work together, and then shut down. Well, at least that was one of her secrets drawn into the light.
The fact that Kyle ran a strip club didn't shock me at all, though. I mean, the family owned a bar, a club, a casino. Why not have a strip club as well? They probably owned a brothel too. Maybe a bookies. Pretty much anything that dealt in a vice.
“Hey, Elle.” Lexi's voice brought my back into the room and out of my head. “If you talk to Alice about this, don't react like you did with me. Seriously, I know she won't like that. If it were me, I probably wouldn't even mention it to her. Bit of a sore spot.”
“How come? What happened.”
I was never much of a gossip but this was just too good to miss. I felt like I was an extra in Days of Our Lives or something, all this family drama going on around me.
“Well, it was always forbidden that any staff members see each other. Kyle's dad, Charles Logan, he was not a guy you wanted to mess with. He ruled that place with an iron fist. I mean, I liked it because it meant no guy would ever get frisky. But it also applied to staff. If you got together, or even just had a one night stand o
r something, you'd be in big, big trouble. Like, lose your nuts trouble. Seriously, there was this one security guard who was castrated for dating a stripper. Castrated! Can you imagine that!”
I really didn't want to.
“Anyway,” she continued, “when Charles Logan died, I guess Kyle and Alice thought they could become official. So she stopped working there and the rest is history.”
But it wasn't quite, was it. I remembered back to the night I arrived. Crash had been furious with Kyle, and they seemed to be arguing about Alice. It seemed that maybe Crash was trying to continue where his father left off. He did seem to have that dominant way about him.
“It's like living in a soap opera round here,” I said, “Even people's secrets have secrets.”
“Yeah, well, I've got mine out of the way! Other than that, what you see is what you get with me.” She laughed, her jovial spirit returning.
“Anyway, I'm sure you've got a few little secrets of your own,” she kept on. “Like moving here mysteriously in the middle of the year. You still haven't told me about that.”
“Yeah, well, that's a long story!”
She looked at the imagined watch on her wrist. “I've got time...”
“OK, buckle up babe, cos this ones a doozy.”
Chapter 11
Crash
My fist was pushing down so hard on my desk I thought it was going to break straight through it.
“What do you mean, there's no link?” I seethed through my teeth.
“I couldn't find anything Crash. Nothing. There is nothing linking your father's killing to Mr Cooper's people. If they did it, there's no evidence at all.”
“FUCK!” I roared. “Then who is fucking responsible?!”
He remained calm in his seat. Jones was never phased by anything.
“Your father had lots of enemies. There's a laundry list of people it could have been. I'll keep searching, but you might have to resign yourself to the fact that you may never know.”
Never know. I couldn't live like that. I had to fucking know. I had to.
“OK, get back on it. I don't want you sleeping until you can give me something.”
He stood and nodded. A loyal man, Jones, always there for my father, always here for me now.
I grabbed a glass and downed a shot of whiskey as he left the room. The liquid warmed my throat and settled down into my stomach. I took another and sank back into my chair, my mind rolling around in turmoil.
I was juggling so much shit right now I knew something would eventually come down onto my head. There was this ongoing investigation into my father's murder, something I'd never stop looking into. Then there was this deal with my investors, a problem that was constantly front and center of my mind.
My father had built a strong business. I wanted to expand it into an empire. Build on his legacy. Make sure the name of Logan was never forgotten.
Of course, Kyle was acting as another thorn in my side. He was still pushing me to find a replacement for him at the club, constantly threatening to walk away. I knew he wouldn't though. What the fuck would he do out from under the umbrella of our family's wealth? He had no credentials to speak of. All he knew was running a strip club. And if he left, I'd make sure no one within a thousand miles would hire him. There was no space for disloyalty in this family.
The news from Jones wasn't the way I wanted to start the day. I had a serious meeting to get to later on and had hoped it to be on a happier footing. Now my mind was clouded by thoughts of my father once more, and I needed to clear the air in my head before doing anything else.
I stood and stepped out of my office. The casino floor below me was quiet, most of the all night punters having cleared out earlier in the morning. It would pick up again as the day went on, but right now it was at its lowest ebb, like the embers of a fire just waiting to spark back into life.
I walked out into the parking lot and sucked in air, feeling the cool morning breeze rush over my face. I needed calmness, I needed serenity, I needed to clear the cobwebs before my meeting. This was a biggie, and I needed to convince my investors that I was a safe bet.
Crash, in your current state of mind, you couldn't convince a prostitute to open her legs. Get your fucking act together.
I climbed into my Hummer and turned the ignition, the engine roaring to life like a lion. There was only one place I knew to go where my mind would find some calm. A place I always gravitated to as a kid if I was scared or upset.
Hopefully, now, it would have the same effect.
....
No one knew of my love for art. I guess if they did it would diminish my reputation a little bit. It wasn't like I was an expert or anything. Far from it in fact. No, I just found it relaxing looking at paintings that were created hundreds of years ago.
I couldn't really explain why, but I'd been going to the Museum of Art since I was a kid. I'd just sit and look at the paintings for hours. Somehow it put my life in perspective, made me see how I was just a tiny cog in a massive machine.
It also made me want to leave this world with my stamp well and truly upon it. I'd look at the paintings and think of how their creators would live forever, always remembered in the minds of those looking at their work.
I wanted the same for me. I wanted the same for my family. It was an ambition that I was always working to see realized. Now, just maybe, that was becoming a reality.
The museum was situated in the center of town, along one side of a large open square. It was grand and imposing, a common site for tourists and art students. There were many rooms inside, many treasures to enjoy within, hundreds of years of art history covered. It was the only real piece of culture that infiltrated my life.
On the other side of the square sat the Museum of Modern Art. That place didn't interest me in the same way. I'd been in there once, but never returned. It just didn't hold the same gravitas for me, the same weight of history.
And the art itself - I felt I could have pulled some of it off myself. I mean, a 6 foot canvas painting that looked like it could have been done by a 2 year old doing a finger painting didn't impress me. If I could do it, what was the point?
I sat in the central hall of the museum now, my mind sifting through a thousand memories of my youth. I remembered coming here after I'd beaten up Jimmy Trenton, this kid at school. It was the first time I'd been in a fight, and I was terrified I'd go to jail or something. Stupid kid, didn't know what I was thinking.
I came here when my mom died. She was killed in a car crash when I was 19. I hated that I had no one to blame, nowhere to direct my anger. I wanted to punch straight through the walls but I came here instead.
And now I sat here again, the death of my other parent weighing heavy on my mind. This time was different. This time there was someone to blame. What crushed at my lungs more than anything, however, was that I didn't know who it was.
The minutes ticked by as my mind began to calm. It always did here. It helped me put things in perspective, get my priorities straight. I wanted to be remembered. I wanted to forge my name into the foundations of this fucking country. Just like these artists all around me and the works they'd created, I wanted to live forever.
....
I stood and walked from the central hall back towards the main exit, my mind clearing. The weather outside was crisp, the chill of the morning given over to warm sunshine flowing down from above.
I breathed in deep as I stood on the front steps, the large square ahead of me. There seemed to be something going on down there, some sort of street performance to entertain the gathering crowds.
Tourists were standing in a large circle around the side of the square, all of them looking in and holding their cameras aloft. I watched with mild interest as a group of girls stepped into the center, dressed in black and white tights.
/> The sound of music suddenly filled the air down below as the group began dancing and moving in unison, their bodies flowing around and over each other. The black and white of their leotards was quite striking as their bodies flowed in twisting and turning motions, graceful and poetic.
It wasn't a scene that would usually interest me but something caught my eye.
I moved in closer, down the steps towards the crowd as the dancers continued to perform, the flashing of cameras doing nothing to put them off.
My eyes fixed on one of the girls. Her body looked exceptional in the tights, her frame petite yet with a curve, her movements feminine and sensual. I tried to get a good look at her face, but other bodies and arms kept obscuring her.
Then, from nowhere, she turned and stopped in front of me, the performance ending as abruptly as it had started. She held her head down, her blonde hair tied back to keep it from her eyes. Slowly, as the claps of the audience began to rise, her head lifted, a wide smile upon it, her blue eyes sparkling.
It was Elle.
Her eyes danced over the crowd, thanking them for their applause. I stood tall above them, towards the back, my eyes set directly on her. She suddenly turned towards me, as though she'd felt my gaze upon her, and her smile widened.
She looked so relieved, so excited, so pumped with adrenaline. I guess it was probably the first time she'd danced in front of people.
She should do it again.
She spontaneously set forward, pushing through the crowd as they watched on at her, walking straight at me.
I stayed motionless. She looked gorgeous, her face completely lit up, an energy in her that I hadn't seen before.
It seemed to give her life as she thrust her hands forward and grabbed at my body, her lips rushing straight into mine as the crowd cheered behind her.
Before I knew what was going on she'd stepped back, that coy look I'd seen before creeping quickly back onto her face. I couldn't help the frown from dominating my expression. I must have looked like I'd just been accosted by a madman.
Her face turned embarrassed at seeing my expression and she quickly turned and rushed back towards her friends, who were now gathering their things at the far side of the crowd and seemingly preparing to leave.
The Logan Brothers - Books 1-4: (EXPOSURE, CRASH, TWIN PASSIONS, and ADDICTED TO YOU) Page 25