The Graves of the Guilty (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 3) (20 page)

“And I could be your ears,” Savannah said, clearly not happy over being excluded.

“You can’t hear yourself think over what passes for music in that kind of joint. And it’s no place for a lady.” Jake was clearly appalled by the idea. “This is a mean, dirty club filled with mean, dirty people.” He turned to Cooper. “You’re made from tough fiber, my friend, but this is a mighty big risk you’re taking.”

“Have you read the paper lately? There are so many bad things happening in our city,” Cooper replied with quiet passion. “I can’t just sit around when there’s a chance I can stop someone else from being hurt.”

Quinton looked abashed. “I wish I could be more helpful. I placed several calls to Double A Auto to try and discover more about Miguel’s employment history, but they didn’t believe I was with the IRS. I don’t think I’d be any good to you in that club.”

“Me, either, my friend.” Bryant slapped Nathan on the back. “My face is too recognizable and I have a date with Jane.”

Nathan grinned. “We’ll be okay. Just send any extra guardian angels you run into our way.” He brushed corn-bread crumbs from his hands and picked up a clean paintbrush. “I think I’ll start by painting a pizza slice. I know it’s not the pinnacle of nutrition, but I’ve never met a kid who didn’t like a slice of pizza.”

“Absolutely,” Cooper agreed. “If I could choose my last meal, it would be pepperoni pizza.”

“Don’t talk about last meals,” Nathan whispered. “Besides, I’d want mine to be a little more macho than a penguin cupcake.”

13

Because Cooper had planned on the ice storm’s arrival, she’d brought two changes of clothes with her—an outfit to wear to Club Satin and another for church the next morning. The previous night, she and Nathan had decided that it would be dangerous for her to drive home on dark, icy roads, so she accepted his invitation to spend the night in his guest room.

After finishing their work at the school, they ate a quiet dinner and tried to while away two hours watching
When Harry Met Sally.

“I can’t focus on this movie,” Nathan said. “I never thought it would take so long for ten o’clock to arrive.”

“I know. Let’s go upstairs and figure out what you’re going to wear.”

Nathan touched his blue-and-white-checked button-down and frowned. “What’s wrong with this?”

“Too preppy,” Cooper said. Upstairs, she searched through Nathan’s closet until she found dark, acid-washed jeans and a black sports coat. “Add a black T-shirt and you’re set.” She smiled at him. “I’m so glad you’ll be with me tonight.”

“As if I’d let you be alone with Edward. I’m done sharing you.” He pulled her close and kissed her until she pushed him away, saying she needed to get ready too.

When she met him downstairs, Nathan’s jaw dropped. “You’re downright sexy. And those boots?” He eyed her legs. “Wow. Just . . . wow.”

Cooper grinned. “I might have to wear these more often. Come on, handsome, it’s time to hit the strip club.

• • •

The roads were slick and treacherous, and Nathan drove through the nearly deserted downtown streets with care. By the time they arrived in the public parking lot where Cooper had planned to meet Edward, they were fifteen minutes late.

Nathan parked alongside Edward’s cab, which was idling beneath one of the lot’s few streetlights.

“I see you brought backup,” was Edward’s only comment as he opened the passenger door for Cooper. Before she could answer, he pointed at the black carrying case on her lap. “Is that your own cue?”

“I told you I used to play,” she said with a smile. Edward studied her for a moment. “We’ll keep an eye on Albion and his crew as we shoot. If things go well and we kick ass on the pool tables, we’ll end up talking to our big fish.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Nathan asked. “I admit to being out of my league here, but an extra pair of eyes might be useful.”

“Our friend Jake’s coming, too,” Cooper added. “He’s probably inside already.”

Edward nodded. “You go in first and hang out with Jake,” he told Nathan. “Buy some drinks, get some food, and pay attention to the girls. Pick one to spend some money on and tell her you were a friend of Miguel’s and that he always talked about the club. See what she’s got to say.” Edward unzipped his leather coat, revealing a tight shirt emblazoned with a smoking pool cue and the text “Shut Up and Shoot.”

“What if she gets suspicious?” Nathan asked.

“Then she’ll squeal to Albion and we’ll know for sure that Miguel was one of his runners. It’d be a lead, but not a good one, so you should try to play it cool and leave the tricky stuff to me. If the girls blow you off, we’ll find a way to send Cooper into the viper’s pit. Albion likes blondes.”

 “Be careful.” Nathan gave Cooper a brief but fierce hug. “And if something feels wrong, then leave. Finding Miguel’s killer is important, but don’t put yourself at risk.”

“I’m not backing down now,” Cooper said firmly. “But I promise not to do anything stupid.”

Once Nathan was out of sight, Cooper was forced to face Edward’s dark, questioning gaze. “He’s my boyfriend, okay? He wasn’t going to sit at home while I hung out at a strip club.”

Edward shrugged. “I wouldn’t think much of him if he did. Now, get your game face on. Here we go.” Hands clasped for support, Edward and Cooper picked their way over the slippery parking lot. Twice, Cooper lost her balance and had to cling to Edward, but she no longer felt electrified by his touch. The temptation had passed.

“You’re different tonight,” he murmured as they made it to a portion of the sidewalk lit by the pink neon arrows pointing the way to Club Satin. “Why?”

 “You’ve been kind of a shadow guardian since the night Ashley found Miguel. I’m very grateful, but I love Nathan.” Cooper glanced at Edward. “I can only offer you friendship.”

 “I know that you have a man,” Edward said with a smirk. “I’m not here tonight because I have a thing for you. I’m here to see that right’s done, because I owe you one and I’m looking for a way to even the score. Now, let’s go in before they start the contest without us.”

Tongue-tied over his abruptness, Cooper followed Edward to the strip club’s entrance.

Club Satin was housed in a brick building that had once been inhabited by a small hardware company. The business had folded and the Club Satin owner had tacked on a cheap addition resembling a prefab trailer. Now the storefront windows that had once been used to display drill sets and power saws were painted black and covered with electric-pink awnings emblazoned with the club’s name. Tubes of pink neon lighting accentuated the roofline and two spotlights had been erected on top of the highest portion of the roof. The pair of strong beams signaled to traffic passing overhead on I-95 that something exciting was occurring below and travelers need only take the next exit to discover what it was.

Cooper had only seen such places in movies, so she expected to find raucous bachelor parties and zealous fraternity boys inside, but Club Satin’s clientele was shadier than her imaginings. The moment Edward paid the cover charge and they were waved in by a grim-faced bouncer, Cooper felt her anxiety level rise.

“You look like Bambi in a forest fire,” Edward hissed in her ear. “Act like you go wherever you want, whenever you want. Act like there aren’t any rules for you. Own it, girl, or this will be a bust right from the start.”

Cooper pointed at a chalkboard announcing the pool tournament and the night’s food specials. “Just steer me to a table. I’ll be ready to play.”

Edward led her through a knot of men whose attention was focused on a woman dancing on a small, elevated stage. A brass pole protruded from the center and the dancer was hanging upside down using her incredibly strong legs.

Dodging sloshing beer bottles and lit cigarettes, Edward pulled Cooper toward the purple-felt pool tables located in the middle of the main room. A gargantuan man dressed in a lime-green tracksuit waved a clipboard at them, indicating they needed to stop before approaching the tables. “You registered?”

“Yeah.” Edward appeared irritated by the question.

The man flicked his eyes at Cooper. “Team name?”

Deadpan, Edward replied, “The Ball Busters.”

The man chuckled. “At least one of you, anyhow. Rack ’em up on table two. You’re playing the Pick Pockets.”

Cooper wasn’t happy about their team moniker but decided not to criticize her partner in public. Instead, she assembled her custom cue. As she chalked the tip, she took a moment to assess the environment.

The six purple-topped pool tables were located against the club’s far wall, opposite the long bar. In the center of the room, an elevated catwalk with a dance pole at each end jutted out into the sea of tables and chairs. A fog machine was pumping out a veil of mist at the base of the runway and pink, purple, and yellow strobe lights sent confusing pulses of color through the air.

Edward handed her two ibuprofen tablets. “Trust me. You’ll need these.” He glanced at her cue. “We won the coin toss. You any good at breaking?”

Cooper nodded, stuck the Advil in the back pocket of her skirt, and stared intently at the tight triangle of billiard balls on the table. For years, she and her ex-boyfriend Drew had played pool against each other and in local competitions. After only a few games, it became clear that Cooper had a natural talent for the sport.

Now, she leaned over the table, gripped the cue with a firm yet flexible hand, and propelled her right arm forward. The sound of the cue ball cracking against the hard cluster of solids and stripes brought a smile to Cooper’s lips. She felt more at home in the strange setting the moment the burgundy seven ball and the sun-yellow one ball slipped into corner pockets with satisfying thuds.

“Guess we’re solids,” Edward said to the Pick Pocket males. He watched in silence as Cooper proceeded to sink the cobalt two ball and the mango-colored five ball before missing an attempt to put the forest-green six ball into a side pocket.

The Pick Pockets looked like strong contenders at first, but after the leadoff player dropped his first two shots easily, he missed his third by a mile.

When Edward’s turn came around, he swept the remainder of the solids as well as the eight ball in four shots. Cooper and Edward shook hands with their opponents, collected pint glasses of cold beer, and prepared for round two.

“Dicks with Sticks?” Cooper repeated the competitor’s team name. “Charming.” Her attention was divided among the roughness of their challengers’ appearance (the two men were clad entirely in black leather and had tattoos of flames licking up the sides of their necks), the exotic dancers who had eased out of their costumes and were now gyrating clad only in minuscule thongs, and an attempt to spot Nathan somewhere in the crowded club.

“I’ve been checking on him,” Edward said, following her gaze. “He and Jake are chatting up one of the lady bartenders. They’re doing their job. You focus on yours.”

“And what is my job exactly?” She frowned.

Edward put his lips against her ear. Pointing at the table as though strategizing their next game, he said, “We win this tourney and the big fish will have us to his table for a drink. One of his associates will give us a pile of cash as our reward. That’s how we get close to him. I’ll disappear and you try to spend some of the dough buying China White.”

“What if I’d been a horrible pool player?” Cooper asked.

Edward shrugged. “I’ve been racking and whacking since I was a kid. In clubs, in jail, at people’s houses . . . As long as you didn’t scratch or shoot the wrong balls, I figured we’d win easily enough. I just let you go first to see what you were made of.” He smiled. “Turns out you got game.”

Edward was right. The second-round players possessed a crude name and their skills were equally unrefined. After Cooper and Edward sent the men packing, they defeated a pair of big-bellied bikers. Only the reigning champions, the Snipers, barred their path to victory.

The Snipers, two Hispanics in their early twenties, wore unbuttoned dress shirts and gold chains around their necks. As Cooper studied them covertly, she realized that their outfits were very similar to the clothing in Miguel’s closet. She decided it was worthwhile to flirt with whichever player wasn’t shooting in hopes of discovering a connection to the dead man.

“That’s a hot shirt,” she said, leaning against the man named Jorge.

You like what you see, baby? Nothin’ but silk. I got silk sheets on my
big, big
bed, too. You wanna come over and touch it?” Jorge leered at her.

Cooper pretended to consider his offer. “I dunno. I came here with another guy.”

“So?” he practically spit out the word. “He can’t do for you what I can do for you!”

“I’m not sure I believe you. The last Latino I was with didn’t satisfy me.” She pouted.

Jorge began to laugh. “One of my brothers couldn’t get the job done? Who was this loser?”

Shrugging, Cooper said, “I doubt you know him. Miguel Ramos?”

“Oh, but I
did
know him.” Jorge scoffed and chalked the end of his cue stick. “He got clipped, girlfriend, so he won’t be disappointin’ any more hotties like you.”

“Dead?” Cooper injected her voice with skepticism. “He was nice. Who’d bother killing him?”

“
Nice
don’t cut it on the street. You can be as nice as you want, but you better not get greedy or you get cut down,” Jorge said and then licked his lips. “Let’s have a little side bet, eh? If I win, you come home with me.”

“And if I win?”

Jorge grinned lecherously, his white teeth gleaming beneath the neon lights. “You get to come home with me. See? You’ll be happy either way!”

Just then, Jorge’s partner missed a shot and it was Cooper’s turn. If she could sink the thirteen ball followed by the eight ball, she and Edward would win the tournament. As she leaned over the ball, her hand didn’t feel as steady as it should. She backed away from the table and reached for her beer, trying to shut out Jorge’s laughter and lewd tongue gestures.

“Get your brain in the game.” Edward tapped her gently on the temple. “Picture a peaceful place before you pick up that stick again.”