Undercover in Six Inch Stilettos (8 page)

“How come you’re not already spoken for, Johnny? You got more charm and character than anyone I know.”

“You know any ladies okay with their man borrowing her panties or a hot dress once in a while? Because I sure don’t. Not any normal, single ladies anyway.”

“How about a guy?”

“Now, doll face, Johnny doesn’t swing in that direction.”

“But…well, now I am confused. Aren’t you wearing a bra and panties right now?”

“So?”

“So…why are you wearing them? And dresses…you wear those too.”

“And the Scottish wear their kilts. You ever seen anyone accuse a couple of Highlanders of getting it on with each other?”

“Johnny, I am not accusing you of anything! I really don’t understand.”

“They feel nice against my skin.”

“What?” Cyndi asked, then took a sip of water.

“The satin and lace feel good against my skin. It’s like hours and hours of foreplay.”

“Johnny!” Water shot through her nose as she choked on the cold liquid. “The things you say!”

“I’m serious! What man doesn’t want to be turned on all the time?”

“You are a real pervert!”

Johnny laughed at her as he tossed her a bar cloth to wipe the mess up with. “I look at it as doing my gal a favor. By the time we get home, I am ready and willing to go. Only I have yet to find a gal who understands that.”

Cyndi cleared away the water and returned the towel to Johnny. “What about the dresses?”

Johnny shrugged and grinned his thousand-watt grin again. “Again, Scotsmen wear kilts. I like the feeling of almost being naked at work.”

“You are one crazy guy, Johnny. Never met anyone like you in my life.”

The music switched to some calm Hawaiian ballad, and Cyndi knew Lola had taken the stage. The lights dimmed, and all eyes turned to Lola’s grass skirt and coconut bra.

“They love that girl,” Johnny murmured. Cyndi studied the young bartender as he watched Lola do a beautiful hula punctuated with back bends and bare skin.

“She is pretty amazing,” Cyndi replied. “I’m going to head out back and get ready for my next set, Johnny. Keep being you. You are a pretty cool guy, and one day the right woman is going to see that.”

Johnny turned his gaze from Lola to smile at Cyndi. “Thanks, Miss Liberty, you are pretty cool yourself.”

Chapter Nine

““Like a Virgin,” Roxy? Seriously?” Cyndi teased the other woman as she prepped for her set.

“How do you know I’m not?” Roxy twirled around in a circle, orange feathers scattering everywhere. She had changed into a slinky teddy with a bright orange boa for her next round on the dance floor.

“Just where do you find all these feather boas, Roxy? I swear you have every color of the crayon box. And not the little eight pack, the big sixty-four box!”

“Oh, you know, here and there. I like variety, sugah.” She eyed Cyndi up and down, her gravelly voice cracking as she spoke. “It might serve you well to invest in another outfit. The guys, they get bored, then they stop spending their dollars.”

“I was thinking I might need to mix things up a bit. I wasn’t sure I was going to stick with this, and I am on a limited budget,” Cyndi said.

“Bet your budget ain’t so limited anymore. You gotta be clearing three hundred bucks a night at least.”

“How did you know that?”

“I been doin’ this job for a long time, little lady.” Roxy broke into a coughing fit—the chest-wracking kind that almost made Cyndi call for help—but then she calmed herself down and studied Cyndi gravely. “This job—this life—is gonna be the death of me. Maybe you ought to get out while you still can, girlfriend. It’s going to ruin your life and your marriage, you stick around here too long.”

“My marriage is just fine. Thank you, Roxy, for your concern, but Jason and I are very happy.”

“Hmpf…for now, anyway. Things change in a blink. Look at Jade.”

“Jade?”

“One minute she is here, dancing and doin’ her thing, the next…poof! No one knows what the hell happened to her.”

Cyndi thought about the bloody purse but kept it to herself.

“Maybe she will resurface back home in Maryland.”

“Mary-land? That gal was from Mary-land?”

Oops.
She had to be more careful. That information was not common knowledge. “I thought she told me that once. I could be wrong. The girl could have come all the way here from the west coast. Either way, for all we know, she could have left on her own.”

“I’m highly doubtin’ that.”

So was Cyndi, but she kept her theories to herself. A blood-stained purse and a rusty old tire iron spoke volumes. She intended to grab the long piece of metal on her way out of the club after her last set.

Lola entered the room then. “Hello, ladies. Roxy, I think Johnny said he needed to see you before you do your next set.”

“I guess I better go see what my boy wants, then.” Roxy exited the room, her orange boa trailing behind her.

“You looked like you could use a little rescuing, Cyndi.”

“Thanks, Lola. Roxy definitely has her own opinions about things.”

“That is the truth, for sure. She trying to get you to quit the job?”

Cyndi turned from the mirror to face Lola. “How did you know?”

“She tried to do the same to me last night.”

“That’s odd. I wonder why she is trying to get rid of all of us.”

“She made it sound like she had my best interests at heart, but she doesn’t understand I have nowhere else to go and nothing else I can do. I never finished high school. Who else is going to hire me but this place?” Lola gestured around the room. “This is it for me. I am good at it, and the money is good.”

“You know you could go back, Lola, get a GED. You are still so young.”

“I am perfectly happy with my life, Cyndi. I do appreciate your concern, but I love dancing, and this is the only place I will ever get to do it.”

Cyndi walked over and gave the girl a quick hug. “If you ever change your mind, Lola, about school or reaching out to your parents, I am here for you.”

“Thank you, Cyndi. Your husband and little girl are very lucky to have you. Now, you’d better head on out and do your set before Roxy sends out the guards to find you.”

“Right. If I don’t see you after, take care of yourself this week.”

“I will. You be sure to do the same.”

Lola disappeared into the restroom, leaving the echo of her melodious voice behind as Cyndi headed to the stage. Roxy’s dance number was almost over. Her skin tingled with excitement as the energy of the crowd washed over her. It infused her. She danced her heart out, tassels shaking the entire time.

By the time she finished her set, Cyndi was ready to go home. The crowd’s energy had simultaneously energized and exhausted her. She had nearly forgotten about disappearing girls, blood-stained purses, and middle-aged exotic dancers trying to get her to quit her job. As she changed back into her regular clothes, Cyndi hummed a tune she couldn’t quite place. Lola was on stage, and Roxy had all but disappeared after her last round. It was just as well. Cyndi didn’t want to be late and raise Jason’s suspicions again. She liked the job and the people she worked with more and more every week.

Cyndi left the same way she had entered the club. If she could grab that tire iron and pass it off to Jason, he could send it in for lab testing. Something deep in her gut told her it was connected to the blood on Jade’s purse. Her heart ached for the girl, but finding out what happened to Jade was her priority, even if she really didn’t want to know the answer.

Slipping out the back door into the cool night, Cyndi breathed the sea air in deeply. The best part about living near the ocean was the saltiness of the breeze. She could even hear the waves crashing against the shore from where she stood; that’s how close Sugar Shakers was to the beach. Hard to imagine anything bad ever happening in such a beautiful place.

“Get the tire iron and go home, girl. Jason will be sending out the troops soon if you don’t get out of here.” Muttering to herself, Cyndi had to smile at her husband’s overprotective nature. Sometimes his behaviors were a hindrance, but most often she found it endearing. When she reached the place where the old tool had sat propped by the wall, Cyndi was shocked to find it was gone.

Glancing around the small alley, the dumpster caught her eye. It too had been moved. When she had gone into the building three hours ago, the dumpster had definitely been out of place. Now it stood exactly where Cyndi and Angela left it the day before.

“Someone’s been out here in the last three hours. But why?” Cyndi realized she was talking out loud to herself, and she laughed nervously. Something didn’t feel right. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and her heart picked up its tempo. She needed to get out of there.

Her heart was racing, and her pulse banged in her ears by the time she got to her car. Her heartbeat quickened even more when she saw a piece of paper stuck under her windshield wiper.

Careful not to touch the sheet more than she had to, Cyndi pulled the paper out from under the wiper and opened it. Letters cut from magazines were pasted to the wrinkled sheet. She read it by the light of the street lamp.

Stop asking questions.

“What the hell?” Cyndi spun around in a wide arc, carefully surveying her surroundings. The street was completely quiet except for the echo of the music coming from Sugar Shakers. Was he nearby? Watching her from some dark shadow? Who was “he” anyway? Cyndi wasn’t about to wait around and find out. She unlocked her car, tossed the note on her dashboard, and slid in behind the wheel. It took only seconds for her to start the vehicle and get out of there. At the next red light, she broke her ‘no texting while driving’ policy and took a moment to shoot a message to Jason letting him know she was on her way. When he responded with his typical
4
—meaning 10-4, or okay—she set her cell phone in the cup holder next to her and focused on the unexpectedly heavy midnight traffic.

She considered the mystery that was quickly unraveling around her. Who had taken the tire iron? Was it a coincidence that it had disappeared? It was hard to imagine anyone accidentally happening across it. The alley behind the club didn’t normally get much foot traffic.

By the time Cyndi pulled into the driveway, every security beacon on the property was shining and Jason stood on the front porch, arms folded across his chest. His expression was grim as he glanced at the tactical watch he always wore on his left wrist.

“Do you know what time it is?” Jason demanded as she exited the car, completely forgetting about missing tire irons and threatening notes.

“I texted you. You knew I was on the way.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that it’s so late.”

“What are you, my father?” Cyndi snapped as she slammed her car door shut for emphasis.

“It’s after midnight.”

“I’m sorry,
Dad
. I didn’t realize I had a curfew tonight.”

“I was about to start calling hospitals and police departments.”

“Oh, for crying out loud, Jason. You gotta ease up a little. I’m a grown woman, and I know how to take care of myself. Besides, if something had happened to me, I’m sure someone would have called you.”

Jason dropped his arms to his sides, but he remained tense and postured, like he was about to engage in hand-to-hand combat. “This city is not as safe as you assume, you know.”

“Don’t you make sure I know it every minute of every day…” she muttered as she stepped to the trunk to retrieve the purse she had stowed in there before her shift.

“How many times do I have to tell you to ride with your ID easily accessible in the cab of the car!”

“It’s all right, Officer. I wore my big girl panties today.”
If only he knew.

“Cyndi—” Jason growled in warning. As a newlywed she might have gotten upset with his behavior, but after so many years of being married Cyndi laughed at her husband’s dramatic behavior as she nudged past him to get in the house.

“Look, J.J., I have a pretty good head on my shoulders. You wouldn’t have married me if I didn’t. I am not some wilting wallflower, or a helpless princess that constantly needs a knight on a white horse, or in a Chevy Impala, to ride in and rescue me. Take a break once in a while. It must be exhausting being on high alert
all the time
.”

Closing and locking the door behind them, Jason set the house alarm before turning to face her. “You’re no dummy, Cyndi, but you have absolutely no situational awareness skills. You rarely have any idea what is going on around you. A panel van could pull up next to you, looking for a lost puppy, and you would climb right in and offer to give directions. I am not going to be called into the medical examiner’s office to ID your body because you lost track of the time and wandered down the wrong road.”

Cyndi stomped away from him and flung her purse onto the kitchen counter before turning to square off with her husband. “That was the old me, Jason. The young and newly married me. People grow and change. I am a mother and the wife of a police officer. I would like to think that both of those things have forced me to mature at least a little since we met all those years ago. Give me a little credit, Tactical Bob. It’s not like I hang a sign around my neck begging rapists to attack me!”

“Cyndi, I didn’t mean…”

It didn’t matter what he said next because she couldn’t hear him over the water she ran in the bathroom. Fed up with the same discussion night after night, Cyndi couldn’t stand one more conversation about the evils of the world. She would take a long, hot shower instead. Maybe by the time she was done emptying the hot water heater, Jason would be asleep.

No such luck. She had just lathered her hair with coconut-scented shampoo when the bathroom door swung open.

“I locked that door,” Cyndi snapped.

“And I unlocked it,” Jason replied.

“I am not going to argue with you anymore.” Cyndi turned under the shower head and let the hot spray rinse the suds from her hair.

“Who said anything about arguing?” The shower curtain slid open and Jason stepped into the tub with her.

Cyndi turned from the stream of hot water and glared at her husband. He was obviously more than ready to do something other than argue, but she maintained her façade of annoyance. “You’re worse than a teenage boy.”

Jason grinned as he pulled her close. The continuous spray of hot water fell on them. “What’s wrong with wanting the woman I married, especially when she is as fine as you are, baby?”

“Ugh! Come on, J.J., I am not going to have sex with you. I’m mad at you.”

Her husband picked up a shower pouf and poured a dose of liquid soap on it. He began to work his hands over her back with the soapy object, trailing his fingers slowly across her heated skin until he reached her backside.

“Yeah, but you won’t stay mad.” Jason grinned slyly as his hands wandered a little lower.

Cyndi pushed against his chest with both hands but was unsuccessful in getting any distance between them. Instead, each time she shoved him, Jason pulled her in closer.

“The rules are: we fight, we have makeup sex.”

“Rules?”