by Paula Matter
He smiled and shook his head at me.
I grinned back. “Hey, can you teach me how to do that trick with the one eyebrow? I’ve always thought it was so cool that some people can do that.”
“Takes years and years of practice.”
“Can you do this?” I leaned closer and rolled my tongue.
“Impressive. I never could do that.”
“We make quite a pair,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Your eyebrow and my tongue.”
He turned red. Score! It was fun making him, a grown man, blush.
“Hi, do I know you two?”
I looked up at the voice. Abby, dressed in a long white silky robe, a pink belt tied at the waist, stood at the table. No sign of the shiner.
“Hi, Abby. We met last week when you were in North DeSoto. I’m Maggie Lewis, this is Michael Bradley.”
Michael stood and extended his hand. She shook it and looked at me. “Oh, yeah, I remember you. How’s it going?”
“Good. Can you sit for a bit and talk with us?”
Michael pulled out a chair for her and they both sat down. Abby’s robe slipped open a little, and as she crossed her legs, I saw the black fishnet stockings and hot pink spiked heels. “What can I do for you?”
It didn’t seem to occur to her that we’d had to track her down. It also didn’t seem to bother her.
“I assume it has something to do with that poor man getting murdered. I talked to your police chief about it,” Abby said. “He called here the day after it happened.”
That surprised me, but I guess it shouldn’t have. It impressed me that Bobby Lee had actually followed through on that part of the investigation. This was only his second murder case. I sent a silent prayer up to Rob.
I turned my attention back to Abby, and said, “Michael and I were wondering about the night you worked at the club. If the man who was murdered—”
“Jack,” Abby said.
“Um, yeah, Jack. Do you remember if he said or did something that night that might’ve provoked another person into killing him?”
Abby bit her bottom lip while she obviously tried to think back. “I can’t recall. Of course, I wasn’t always down at that end of the bar. When I was, I don’t believe he said anything.”
“How did he behave?” Michael asked.
“He got pretty drunk and seemed more quiet as the night wore on,” she said.
“Drunk?” That didn’t sound right. Jack could easily handle his beer. Had he been drinking whiskey? He knew better than that. “Was he drinking just beer, or something else?”
“Beer. The other guys kept buying him beer.”
“What other guys? Maybe if you describe them to me I’ll be able to tell who they were.”
“It was JC and Dick,” she said. “They and their wives, Pam and Diane, respectively, were sitting near Jack. Along with Kevin, Scott, and Pete.”
Michael flashed a grin at her and said, “I love witnesses like you. You have an excellent memory. Especially for working only one night.”
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Big deal. So she remembered a few names. I continued with my questions. “So you’re not sure exactly if Jack said anything?”
“He was very quiet, like I said. Jack seemed morose the more he drank. The other guys were laughing because Jack was all fidgety.”
“Fidgety? Why’s that?”
Abby shrugged. “Said he lost his notebook. Do you think it was important?”
“Yeah, I think I do,” I said. I explained to her about Jack and his habit of writing stuff down in his notebook. Of course, now I had a better idea of why and what he wrote. “I wonder why he didn’t have it?”
She shrugged again. “I don’t know. Scott asked him and he mumbled that he’d lost it.”
I knew all about Jack and his mumbling.
Abby said, “I know Sam was getting angry about it.”
That got my attention. “Angry about what?”
“About him getting drunk and how they kept giving him beer chips. After Scott, his parents, and the Reids left, Sam told me to slow down service to Jack. He didn’t want Jack to leave totally wasted, didn’t want him on the road driving.”
“What time did they all leave?” Michael asked.
“Let’s see … The Reids and Nelsons, along with their son, left together about eleven thirty or so. Kevin left a few minutes after them, and Sam—” Abby stopped herself short.
“It’s okay,” Michael told her. “We know Sam left early.”
“I don’t want to get him into any trouble. He’s a nice man. Okay, so Sam left about five minutes after Kevin. He told Pete how to do the security, turn off bathroom lights, and lock up, then he left.”
“And Jack was still there?”
Abby nodded. “Yes. Pete sat with him the rest of the night. They were the only two left in the bar. Poor man. Any time Jack tried ordering a beer from me, Pete would get into a conversation with him to distract him. He was doing the best he could to keep Jack from drinking too much more.”
“What time did Jack leave?”
“Same time as Pete and me, about twelve thirty. We wanted to make sure he was okay, so I didn’t kick him out after last call. He went out the front door, and Pete locked it behind him. Pete did a building security check, then we left through the back door.” She smiled. “Pete was cute. He jiggled the doorknob a few times to make sure it was locked. Didn’t want me or Sam to get in any trouble.”
Apparently Pete didn’t realize that he also could’ve gotten into trouble. The officers on the board wouldn’t like hearing that a member had closed up and locked the doors. Definitely grounds for suspension, or even having his membership taken from him.
“And was Jack still there when you two left?”
“Yes. Pete found Jack’s notebook stuffed behind a toilet in the men’s room when he checked all the rooms, so he went over to Jack’s truck and gave it to him. Plus Pete wanted to make sure he was okay. They talked for a few minutes and Jack said he was fine, he’d be okay to drive himself home.”
“Did you actually hear Jack?”
“No, Pete had let me in his car, then he went over to Jack’s truck. Pete told me all that when he came back to the car.”
“So Jack was still sitting in his truck when you and Pete left?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Abby said. “Pete told me that Jack didn’t live too far away, so I wasn’t very worried. He said Jack did that all the time.”
I nodded, knowing it was the truth. Except for the part about Jack misplacing his notebook behind a toilet and getting drunk because JC and Dick were buying his beer, everything Abby said sounded logical. Like any other night at the club.
“Did you see anyone else around?” Michael asked. “Anyone else still in the parking lot, or nearby?”
“No one in the parking lot, and I didn’t notice anyone nearby. Of course, I wasn’t looking.”
Michael arched that eyebrow of his.
“I was on my cell,” Abby said and turned her head toward the bar. “See that gorgeous man behind the bar?”
Michael and I both looked. The hunky guy from the website. Oh, my God, he looked even better in person. My mouth dropped open.
Abby giggled at my reaction. “Yeah, I know.” She waved at the hunk and he waved back. Looking at us again, she said, “That’s Tyler. I was on the phone with him, listening to him beg me to come back.”
Holy crap. I never would’ve left him in the first place. He could be dumber than dirt and poorer than me, it didn’t matter as long as I could just look at him. I had to stop drooling and focus.
The first question came to mind and I asked, “Why’d you leave?”
Abby placed her hand on her tummy, caressed it. “In a few months I won’t be able to dance. Tyler and I had a huge fight last week, the night Pete was in here.
I’d told Tyler about the baby and he wasn’t very happy. Actually, he became very angry.”
I immediately thought of her black eye and asked, “Was he abusive? Did he hurt you?” I glared over at Hunky Tyler, then back at Abby.
“No, no, nothing like that. It just surprised him and he initially reacted badly to the news. He slammed his hand down on the bar, hit a bowl of peanuts, and it bounced up and the edge hit me right in the face. Total accident, but I was very upset at the time. Pete rescued me took me away from all this.” Abby gestured with her hands. “Tyler came to his senses, decided he’s ready to be a daddy, and begged me to come back.”
“And you came back the next day?”
“Yeah, Pete dropped me off at the bus station early Sunday morning. He’s an absolute doll, isn’t he? He wanted to drive me all the way back here, but I wouldn’t let him. He’d already done so much.”
“Done so much?”
“He put me up for a couple of nights, found the job at the VFW for me. So, yeah, I consider that doing a lot, especially for a complete stranger. He didn’t have to help me at all.”
“You stayed at Pete’s while you were in North DeSoto?” That amazed me because I knew Pete lived in a tiny mobile home. I couldn’t imagine two adults living there comfortably even temporarily.
Abby must’ve heard the surprise in my voice. She said, “Well, yeah. It’s not like I would’ve had to’ve worried about keeping him off of me. Y’know?” Abby winked at me.
Okay. I guessed Pete was the one who’s gay. Was I the only woman who didn’t know it? I’d known the man for years and never had a clue.
I shook my head, and said, “No, I was thinking more about the size of Pete’s place—it’s pretty small.”
“Pete gave me his bed and he slept on the couch. It is small, but it was only for a couple nights.” Abby glanced at her watch and said, “I have to get going in a few minutes. Is there anything else?”
“Um, yeah. Why would Pete come to this club? I mean, since he’s gay.”
Abby laughed. “In between our shows—the girls, I mean—we have gay cabaret. See all these men sitting alone, or with another man? That’s really what they’re here to see. The straight couples are here to watch the girls.”
What do you know? Equal opportunity stripping.
Abby pushed her chair back and stood. “I need to get going. You’re going to stay for my act, aren’t you?”
Michael and I looked at each other. We hadn’t gotten that far in our plans.
“Wouldn’t miss it, Abby,” Michael said. “And thanks again. You were very helpful.” He stood up and shook her hand.
“Wait, Abby, I have one more question,” I said. It was hard to ask, but I did anyway. “When Pete came back from Jack’s truck, did he have any blood on him?”
Abby frowned. “Of course not.” To Michael she said, “You’re welcome. Glad I could be of some help. Good-night. Hope you enjoy the show.” She headed toward a door near the stage.
“I had to ask,” I said.
“I know. You did a good job asking questions. You asked all the right ones.”
I smiled. “Think I might make a good detective some day?”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
Music started playing and an amber spotlight hit center stage. Abby no longer had on the long robe. Instead, she wore a little one-piece outfit, the black satiny short skirt fringed with hot pink fur that matched the color of her shoes perfectly. Oh, man. There were days I couldn’t even match my socks. Michael and I spent the next couple hours watching beautiful young women and hot men get almost naked. I was grateful to be sitting in the dark.
Twenty-Nine
It was close to midnight when we got back to our rooms. I was keyed up, not ready for sleep, but climbed into bed anyway. Michael wanted to meet in the hotel restaurant for breakfast at seven and get on the road by eight, so it was best to get some sleep. Not an easy thing to do. The light from the hall shone in through the bottom of the door, and the damned air conditioner rattled between its cycles. I punched pillows, tossed the sheets off, then back on all night depending on how warm or cool the room got. When I did manage to sleep, I dreamt about sliding down a pole with Hunky Tyler dressed as a fireman. I was sorry when my wake-up call came at six sharp. It would’ve been interesting to finish that dream.
What an awful time to be awake and out of bed. I stumbled through the dark, unfamiliar room and felt my way to the coffeemaker on the dresser. I’d set it all up before going to bed, so just had to push the button. By the time I got out of the bathroom, the coffee was ready. I would’ve killed for one of my ceramic mugs, and more sugar. And real milk. Man, I’d make sure to bring all of those the next time Michael and I stayed at a hotel.
Whoa. That was a strange thought. As if he and I were going to make this a habit. I decided to blame my warped thinking on the early-morning hour. I hated mornings. I hated hotels that gave only two dinky-ass packets of sugar and powdered creamer. I hated Styrofoam cups. Grumpy and not nearly caffeinated enough, I showered, packed my bag, and headed down to the restaurant for a decent cup of coffee.
The hostess showed me to a table and we passed a huge buffet on the way. Even before I sat down, I asked for a pot of coffee and within minutes a bouncy little waitress showed up with it. I’d make sure she got a wonderful tip.
I gulped down the first delicious cup and was pouring a second one when Michael joined me. He set his duffle bag on an empty chair.
“Hello,” he said. “You’re down here early. How are you this fine morning?”
I growled, then glared at him when he reached for the coffeepot.
He ignored me and poured a cup for himself. “Not a morning person, I take it?”
Not only did he steal my coffee, but he drank it black. Nasty. The second cup was beginning to do its trick, and I forced a small smile on my face.
“Good morning,” I said. “Did you sleep as poorly as I did?”
Michael shook his head. “It was okay. I’m sorry you had a bad night.”
The waitress came and we both ordered the buffet. My appetite grew as the caffeine kicked in.
“Want to eat first, then talk, or what?” Michael asked.
I pointed at the coffeepot. “More of that, then eat. Then talk.”
“You do that and I’ll go to the buffet. I’m hungry.”
By the time we had both eaten and were working on our second pot of coffee, I was ready to talk. “We learned a lot from Abby last night, didn’t we?”
“Yeah, she was very helpful. We confirmed Sam’s lie, and that Pete’s gay.”
I still felt weird about not picking up on that, but I let it go for the time being. “Sam’s lie is much more serious, don’t you think? He could’ve actually lost his job.”
“Yeah, but Pete had a whole image thing going on, hiding the truth from the club members, didn’t he?”
“Yeah. He used to come in just about every weekend with a new woman hanging on him. Was it that important to him?”
Michael shrugged. “It’s a men’s military club. Definitely a macho thing going on for Pete.”
“Pete loves the club, is very active for just being a social member. He likes being a part of it even though he wasn’t in the military. Pretending to be a smooth Casanova was maybe the only way for him to feel he really belonged.”
Michael sipped his coffee. “I imagine North DeSoto doesn’t have much of a gay community.”
“If there is, it’s pretty well hidden,” I said. “I’ve never really thought about it.”
“Okay, so what have we learned?”
I got out my legal pad and pen. I jotted down as I answered. “Sam lied about closing. Pete’s gay. Jack was alive when he and Abby left Saturday night. Someone took Jack’s notebook and hid it in the bathroom, probably as a joke.” I tapped the pen on the
table while thinking, then said, “My guess would be Scott Nelson. Sounds like something he’d do. Just for kicks. Oh, and JC and Dick used up their chips to get Jack drunk. Sorry rotten bastards. Why the hell would they do that? They’re always talking about shit being detrimental to the club.”
“What else?”
I cocked my head and looked at him across the table. “Is Kevin the one who lied about his medals? He’s the only one left of who Brenda met.” Damn. Kevin?
“Sounds that way to me. Makes sense, doesn’t it? The night I met him, Pete talked about what a war hero Kevin was. Kevin seemed to clam up.”
“Yeah, and I remember wondering about that at the time. So, he was lying all along? I wonder if he even served in the military. That’s one hell of a serious lie.”
“Keeping their lies from being revealed was very important to all three of them,” Michael said.
“Damn. I just thought of something else about Kevin.” I explained to him how the gambling board prizes, quantity and quality, had dropped off. “Kevin said they didn’t have the money to spend the way they used to. That never made sense to me.”
“Remind me, what position does Kevin hold?”
“President of the corporation, of the canteen, which translates to mean the bar. He gets all of the gambling board prizes. Hunting, fishing, camping gear, and supplies. Meat market gift certificates, stuff like that. Usually top-quality items that entice the members to spend money buying a chance to win.”
“Is that all he does?”
“Oh, no. He organizes the monthly suppers and the Sunday breakfast, and hires the bands for the monthly Saturday band night. Even that’s changed. We used to have a band every Saturday night. They said it was too expensive, so now they only do it on the last Saturday and have Sunday brunch the next day, which happens to be today. And instead of steak night, they switched it to a cheaper spaghetti supper. Damn, now that I think about it, there’s been an awful lot of changes since I started working there five years ago.”