The Case of the Missing Drag Queen

by Michael Rupured

  They left the Garden hand in hand and headed for Bertha. Luke wished he’d worn a coat. When they reached the car, he went to unlock her side, but was shivering too much to get the key in the door.

  “Give me them keys.” Pixie unlocked the door and pointed. “Slide on across there.”

  He did what he was told. She crowded up against him, put the key in the ignition, and started the car. She studied the dashboard for a moment and then cranked the heat as high as it would go.

  “We’ll sit here a minute, long enough for you to quit shakin’ so you can drive. Ain’t ya got no coat?”

  “It was nice when I left the apartment.” He shrugged. “How was your night?”

  “After last weekend? A lot better than I expected.” She let out a long breath. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, but it’s kinda scary how fast them bitches is ready to move on.”

  “I don’t know.” Luke shrugged. “Butch Manley’s fans made some difference, but Frank’s announcement took the spotlight off you as a suspect.”

  She looked at him. “You really think so?”

  “With nothing to go on, rumors are filling the void. Frank’s announcement erased him and you from everyone’s list of suspects.”

  “Maybe I’m devious and you ain’t figured it out yet.”

  “I guess that’s possible.” Luke nodded. “Or I could be the devious one.”

  “Puh-leeze.” She dismissed him with a wave. “You ain’t got a mean bone in your body.”

  “We agree I had nothing to do with it,” Luke said. “And I’m pretty comfortable ruling you out as a suspect too.”

  “Ruby was the last to leave the dressing room the night she disappeared,” Pixie said. “The four of us chatted with Mimi for a few minutes, then she ran off to join her crew. Simone left next—I think she had a date—and I left maybe ten minutes later. Kitty said they talked about Michael Dean before she left no more than twenty minutes later.”

  “That makes Kitty the last person to have seen her.”

  “True,” Pixie said. “But I know Kitty. We’ve been friends for years. No way she had anything to do with Ruby goin’ missin’.”

  Luke nodded and put Bertha into gear. “I’ll take your word for it. Ready for Polly Jo’s?”

  She grabbed his arm and checked his watch. “We still doin’ lunch at Fancy Pants tomorrow?”

  “That’s up to you,” Luke said.

  “Then I reckon we’re goin’.” She reached over and dropped the fan speed a click. “Let’s skip Polly Jo’s and get my tired ass home.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Luke laughed. “Did you find something to wear?”

  She nodded. “I think so.”

  “What did you all come up with?”

  “Pick me up at eleven thirty tomorrow morning and you’ll see.”

  Chapter 21

  Friday, October 29, 1982

  LUKE AND a nearly unrecognizable Pixie arrived at the Brougham House with plenty of time to spare. Kitty and Simone had worked magic. Auburn bangs peeked from beneath a wide-brimmed hat that matched the flattering tapered, high-waisted, pleated slacks she wore. A cropped jacket with padded shoulders, a high-necked printed blouse, and a smattering of stylish accessories completed the ensemble.

  Pixie scowled. “Where the hell ya goin’?”

  “To find a parking place,” Luke replied.

  “Oh, hell no.” She shook her head. “You think I’m walkin’ across that gravel in these heels you got another think comin’.”

  “Want me to drop you off at the door?”

  “And leave me alone with all them rich people?” She shook her head. “Valet, honey.”

  Luke grimaced as the valet took his place behind the wheel. To his credit, he treated Luke, Pixie, and Bertha no differently than the couple ahead of them in a shiny new Lincoln Continental. Luke pocketed the ticket and offered Pixie his elbow. “Ready?”

  She nodded and took his arm. “I don’t look frumpy?”

  “Far from it.”

  “I feel nekkid without big hair, stage makeup, and rhinestones.”

  “Relax,” Luke said. “You look like you stepped out of Vogue.”

  “If you say so.”

  Luke held the door open for her and they went inside. “Our reservation isn’t for another twenty minutes. Want to wait in the bar?”

  She shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

  “Don’t worry,” Luke whispered as they headed through the crowd to the bar. “They won’t hurt you—unless you provoke them.”

  “Hush.” Pixie slapped his arm. “Ain’t that Tippy sittin’ next to that baby grand piano?”

  He followed her gaze and nodded. “That’s him.”

  “Come on.” She tugged his arm. “That empty table beside him has our name on it.”

  A waitress materialized beside them as they settled into comfortable chairs on either side of a small table. “Can I bring you a cocktail?”

  “I’d love a mimosa,” Pixie said.

  “Yes, ma’am.” She turned to Luke. “And for you, sir?”

  “Uhm.” Luke thought for a moment. Drinks with lunch had never been his thing, but making her drink alone would be rude. Hopefully, he’d get a nap in before work to sleep it off. “I’ll have the same.”

  “I’d give my left titty for a cigarette,” Pixie whispered.

  “You can smoke in here.”

  “Kitty said classy ladies ain’t supposed to smoke in public.” She shook her head. “Dammit. They ain’t supposed to say ain’t neither.”

  The waitress returned with two champagne coupes garnished with a spear of orange slices and strawberries. “Will you be joining us for lunch?”

  Luke nodded. “We have a reservation. Tanner.”

  “Perfect.” She smiled. “I’ll let the hostess know you’re here.”

  Pixie raised her glass. “A toast?”

  “Sure.” Luke raised his glass.

  “To our search for Ruby Dubonnet.”

  Luke tapped her glass with his. “Cheers.”

  The refreshing mimosa tasted better than he’d expected. He set his drink on the table and smiled at the Warhol-like smudge of red lipstick on Pixie’s glass. Pixie nodded toward Tippy and gave Luke a pointed look. He shook his head and flashed a palm. An exasperated Pixie shook her head and turned to Tippy.

  “Excuse me,” Pixie said. “Are you Tippy Berger?”

  A bleary-eyed Tippy nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She slapped Luke’s arm. “I told you.” She stood and offered her hand. “I am so excited to meet you! Pixie Wilder, and this is Luke Tanner.”

  Tippy nodded politely and took her hand. Then he turned to Luke and gave his fingers a limp squeeze. “Pleasure to meet you.” The response was automatic, mechanical, and insincere.

  The awkward silence that followed was interrupted by the arrival of Buddy Sinclair. “Hey, Tippy. Sorry I’m late.” He nodded at Luke then smiled at Pixie. “Hello, pretty little lady.” He extended his hand. “Buddy Sinclair.”

  “Pixie Wilder.” She took his hand and gave Luke a surprised look when Buddy kissed her fingertips.

  “Almost didn’t recognize you in that coat and tie.” Buddy smiled at Luke and then turned to Tippy. “Am I interrupting something?”

  Tippy shook his head and gave Pixie and Luke an expectant look.

  “No, sir.” Luke smiled. “Just saying hello.” He saw the hostess waiting a discreet distance from them and turned to her. “We’re ready.” He offered Pixie his elbow.

  “Hope to see you again,” Buddy said, leering at Pixie. “Enjoy your lunch.”

  Pixie smiled at him coyly and latched on to Luke. “You too.”

  They followed the hostess across the expansive, brightly lit dining room to a table in the back. Luke pushed Pixie’s chair in for her and took his seat across from her.

  “Welcome to the Brougham House. My name is Jon, and I’ll be serving you today.”

  Pixie rolled her eyes as Jon described the v
arious specials. When he finished, she furrowed her brow and looked at him. “Did you go to Bryan Station?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a puzzled look. “You too?”

  “I can’t believe you don’t remember me.” She turned to Luke. “Are you ready to order? I’m famished.”

  They ordered salads—the cheapest dishes on the menu—and splurged on a shrimp cocktail because Pixie had never had one before. After Jon left, she turned to Luke and smiled. “He’ll wonder who the hell I am for the rest of the day.”

  Luke grinned and shook his head. “Feeling better?”

  Pixie nodded. “Until Buddy hit on me.”

  Luke laughed. “He’s attractive enough, for his age.”

  “His inner ugliness shines through.” She shuddered. “Did you see Tippy jump when I toasted Ruby?”

  Luke shook his head. “Really?”

  She nodded. “Turned to me fast enough to get whiplash.”

  Luke shrugged. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

  “He knows something,” Pixie said with a nod. “Mark my word.”

  “Okay. So now what?” He rested his elbows on the table for a moment then moved his hands to his lap. “We can’t just walk up and question him.”

  Pixie smiled. “Here’s your chance.”

  Luke turned and saw Tippy glad-handing and nodding hello as he strode toward the back of the dining room. He caught Luke’s eye, winked, and then disappeared into the men’s room.

  “Don’t just sit there,” Pixie said. “Follow him.”

  “Into the bathroom?”

  “You got a better idea?”

  Luke sighed and massaged his temples for a moment. Pixie had a way of getting him to do things he really didn’t want to do. He pushed away from the table and stood. Following another man into the men’s room of Lexington’s nicest restaurant crossed all kinds of lines. He stepped inside and stopped. A smiling attendant stood beside a counter with two sinks, a basket of hand towels, and a tray of colognes.

  Tippy stood in front of the middle urinal. Luke couldn’t decide what would be less weird. Waiting for Tippy or using one of the urinals on either side of him. Before he could make up his mind, Tippy flushed, zipped up, and turned around. He gave Luke a surprised look, smiled, and slipped the attendant several bills. “Thanks, Jerome. Why don’t you take a break?”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Berger,” Jerome said, pocketing the cash and disappearing through the door.

  “Luke Tanner, right?” Tippy smiled and looked him up and down.

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Berger.” Luke gulped as he came closer.

  “Call me Tippy. Got a nice package for me?” He stopped, held Luke’s gaze, and groped him.

  Luke gasped and pushed him away. “What are you doing?”

  Tippy’s face fell. “That’s not why you followed me in here?”

  “No, sir.” Luke shook his head. “I wanted to ask you about Ruby Dubonnet.”

  Tippy paled. “What about her?”

  “She’s been missing for a week. I’m hoping you know something to help us find her.”

  “Missing?” Tippy studied Luke’s face for a long moment. “I have no idea where she is. I barely know her.”

  “That’s not how it sounded in the telephone message you left for her.”

  Tippy flinched. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t realize she was missing. I thought she was avoiding me.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  He shrugged. “We started spending time together after the last Derby party. She’s not interested in being the other woman. Divorcing Amber would cost a fortune and force me to sell Berger Place.” He shook his head. “I’m stuck with the gold-digging little tramp.”

  “Why did you marry her?”

  “Deceitful bitch told me she was pregnant, from the one time we had sex.” He shook his head. “Anyone who says a man can’t be raped hasn’t met Amber Preston.”

  “If you’re not having an affair, what’s going on between you and Ruby?”

  “Friendship.” Tippy smiled. “The kind that comes along maybe once in a lifetime—if you’re lucky.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “I miss her.”

  “Did anything happen between you last Thursday?”

  He nodded, brushed a tear from his eye, and sniffed. “She told me she felt like my mistress and that I should either work things out with Amber or get a divorce.” He shook his head. “What kind of choice is that?”

  Luke felt sorry for him. Coming out in the 1970s, as hard as it was, in no way compared with how it must have been in the 1950s, especially for someone as well-known as Tippy Berger.

  “Any idea who might want to hurt Ruby?”

  “Nobody I know.” Tippy shook his head. “Why would they? She’s never been anything but good to anyone she’s ever known.”

  “I won’t stop looking until we find her,” Luke said. He patted his pockets in search of something to write with but came up empty-handed. “If you think of anything that might help us, call Frank Marvin at the Garden. He knows how to reach me.”

  “I will.” Tippy nodded. “Good luck. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  Luke returned to the table to find Buddy Sinclair in his seat. He got up, pulled something from his pocket, and gave it to Pixie. “Here’s my card. If you change your mind, give me a call.”

  “I’ll do that,” Pixie said. She poked the card into her clutch and smiled. After he’d walked away, she gave Luke a grateful look. “That man won’t take no for an answer. Find out anything?”

  Luke shrugged. “Tippy thought she was avoiding him and didn’t know she’d disappeared.” He shared what Tippy had told him. “He’s not our guy.”

  Chapter 22

  THE GILDED Lily was surprisingly busy for the first show. Staying focused on the customers was a challenge. Luke’s thoughts kept returning to Ruby’s disappearance. He was losing hope. Despite all he and Pixie had done in the past week, they were no closer to finding Ruby and running out of suspects.

  Frank welcomed everyone and ran through the lineup. Butch Manley was back, along with Simone, Kitty Galore, Pixie, and Cammie Towers, who Luke had never heard of before. “Last night,” Frank continued. “I announced a five-hundred-dollar reward for Ruby Dubonnet’s safe return. An anonymous donor has doubled the reward to one thousand dollars. Share any information you may have with Pixie Wilder or Luke behind the bar.”

  The cheering gave Luke a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Everyone expected him and Pixie to pull off a miracle. The likelihood a pair of rank amateurs could find her was slim to none. Luke would throw in the towel were it not for Frank’s announcements and the embarrassment that would follow.

  With so many wanting to talk to him, Luke’s end of the bar stayed busier than Charlie’s end. Most were curious about how the search was going. Though perhaps a bit misleading, “we’re making progress” sounded better than “we haven’t got a clue.”

  Luke turned around to find Michael Dean standing at the bar and nearly dropped a pitcher of beer. He returned Michael’s nod, then topped off the pitcher again to replace what he’d spilled and settled with the beer-drinking customer. Then he turned to Michael and smiled. “Cape Cod?”

  “I can’t believe you remember,” Michael said. “With a memory like that, you should think about acting.”

  Luke was temporarily struck dumb by Michael’s dazzling smile. Unlike the toothpaste commercials it called to mind, the glint from his teeth was not accompanied by a “ting.” Luke filled a glass with ice, added a generous splash of vodka, and then topped it off with cranberry juice and a lime wedge.

  “Shocking news about Ruby.” Michael shook his head. “I didn’t know. Any idea what has happened to her?”

  Luke glanced around as he set the Cape Cod on a cocktail napkin in front of Michael. Simone had taken to the stage with “Love Hangover.” Other than Charlie at the other end of the bar, Luke and Michael were alone. Thou
gh Michael was technically still a suspect, Luke believed he had no more to do with Ruby’s disappearance than had Millie Maxwell or Vince Patrick, and he might know something helpful. Luke leaned toward him and whispered, “We think she was kidnapped.”

  Michael’s eyes widened in horror. “Kid—”

  “Shh!” Luke raised a finger to his lips and jerked his head toward Charlie. “Don’t say anything. It’s just a theory until we have more to go on.”

  “Okay.” He furrowed his brow. “Why would anyone do such a thing?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” Luke shrugged. “So far, we’ve come up with nothing. It’s like she vanished into thin air.”

  “Somebody has to know something,” Michael said. He took a sip of his drink. “The reward hasn’t helped?”

  “Not yet,” Luke said, shaking his head. “Nobody has told us anything we haven’t already ruled out.”

  “Ruby means a lot to me,” Michael said. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” He raised his glass. “Good luck.”

  Luke watched him walk toward the sound booth. His backside was almost as nice as the front. Michael and Frank chatted for a moment and then they shook hands.

  After Kitty Galore’s rendition of “Bette Davis Eyes,” Cammie Towers came out in a long blonde wig, layers and layers of filmy black fabric, and black high-heeled platform boots to perform “Edge of Seventeen.” Butch Manley joined her afterward for “Leather and Lace.” Pixie wrapped up the first show with a rousing sing-along of “Delta Dawn.”

  “Hey, Luke,” Charlie said. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you close for the second show so you can focus on talking to people about Ruby? I don’t mind.”

  “Thanks, Charlie.” Luke smiled. Of course he didn’t mind. He must need the money as badly as Luke did. “But as busy as it is tonight, Frank would have my head.”

  “Oh. Didn’t think about that.” Charlie scratched his head. “Just trying to help you find Ruby.”

  Frank announced that an old friend of Ruby’s had doubled the reward to two thousand dollars. By then, just about anyone who wanted to talk to Luke already had. He stayed busy enough for the time to pass quickly, but not so much he couldn’t watch the performers.