

ALL THE GLITTER

A Jim Nash Short Story

Featuring Maddie Spence

### P X DUKE

Copyright © 2019 by P X Duke.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

author@pxduke.com | https://pxduke.com

Publisher's Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

ISBN 978-1-928161-46-2

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

ALL THE GLITTER

Contents

 **|**  **|**  **|**  **|**  **|**  **|**  **|**

 **|**  **|**  **|**  **|**  **|**  **|**

 **|**  **|**  **|**  **|**  **|**  **|**

 **|**  **|**  **|**  **|**  **|**  **|**

 **|**  **|**

Read Order for Jim Nash stories

More | About

https://pxduke.com | author@pxduke.com

1.

**MADDIE SPENCE ROCKED SLOWLY** from side to side, oblivious to everything around her. She stared out the window, past the brightly lit neon proclaiming the business. She left the sign switched on 24/7 since her return from Blue River on the panhandle where Jim Nash, her partner in the business, had disappeared without a trace.

Okay, so it wasn't exactly like that. He had asked to take Friday, her dog, with him. For a visit with old friends. _I'll be back in a couple of days,_ he said. Well, it had been a couple of days. More than that. Almost a week. And where the hell was the man? She sighed and collapsed into her chair.

Invested in her thoughts, she didn't hear the steps on the stairs leading up to the second-floor office. She heard the knock on the open door, though. She spun the chair around and looked. The man standing in the doorway appeared relaxed. Hands in pockets. Eyes trained on her. Looking her over.

She did the same. An appraising look. Her quick glance instantly took in the neatly pressed slacks. An expensive silk shirt said he wasn't slumming by being in the office, even if it was printed up with the typical south Florida embellishments.

He wasn't hard to look at, either. Piercing blue eyes. Dark hair. Tall and slim with what looked to be muscular arms. Maybe even a good build beneath the shirt.

—I'm looking for Jim Nash.

Friday's ears perked up at the sound of the familiar name. He looked up at Maddie. His tail commenced swishing. She signaled him to go over and investigate the stranger in her office. In Jim's office.

Their office.

The man bent to pat and pet the black dog.

—Hello, Friday. I haven't seen you for a while. How have you been?

It was Maddie's turn to start paying attention now, and her ears were more than perked up. How did this one know about Friday?

—I'm Maddie Spence. Jim's partner in the business. I'm also a licensed Private Investigator.

She wanted to make sure he knew that.

The man's eyes traveled from the dog to the woman behind the desk. He stopped paying attention to the dog and Friday returned to sit with his mistress in a proprietary sort of way. He kept a wary eye on the man, even though he was familiar.

—Oh, yes. Of course. He mentioned you. Forgive me.

He handed over a card.

—I'm William Everhart. I own a dance club on the edge of the city.

Maddie studied the card and the man's name and particulars before flipping it over. The name of the club was on the reverse on a deep blue background. Embossed in gold. La Mar Azul. She'd heard of the place, but she'd never been. Jim had, apparently. Both.

—What can I do for you, Mr. Everhart?

What he'd called a dance club was actually a strip club. Semantics.

—Bill. My friends call me Bill.

He approached the desk and reached across. Friday, ever vigilant, got up on all fours, making sure he was able to watch over the exercise.

—We're not friends, Mr. Everhart.

Yet. Maddie stood to shake his hand, business-like, and sat back down.

—Now then. What is it you need from us, exactly?

She still thought of it as us, even though Jim had been gone from the business for nearly a week. It seemed a lot longer. The man regarded her.

—When will Jim be back?

She had no idea, but she'd be damned if she was going to let on.

—He's away on a case that has taken him out of town for the foreseeable future.

He'd darn well better be getting back, and soon, too, or she'd make sure to kill the man dead when he did. She didn't mean it, of course, but it felt good to think it. Immediately she snapped back to the immediacy of the man standing in front of her.

Handsome. He was handsome, but that didn't matter to her. Lots of men were.

—How can I help you, Mr. Everhart?

Emma Mayberry raced up the stairs and chose that moment to burst into the office. She was just coming off her first part-time shift as a paramedic and was eager to tell her friend all about it.

—Oh. I'm sorry, Maddie. I didn't know you had a client. I'll be upstairs.

Maddie watched William Everhart's eyes appraise the women exiting the office. They had reason to. Emma was attractive and in good shape, too. His gaze returned to Maddie.

—I have a problem and I need your help.

Maddie got up to close the office door and returned to sit behind the desk. It was a barrier. Familiar. Safe. She pulled a worn notebook from a drawer and flipped through the pages. It was one of her partner's. Immediately she stopped thinking about Jim and opened the notebook to a blank page. She was with a new client. It wasn't a time to be reminiscing about Jim's whereabouts.

—In that case, tell me about it.

Everhart was obviously proud of the business he had built in the dance club. How it was known for pretty and smart young women. Many were in college or university. Performing to pay their bills. Earning a good dollar while doing it. Often they stayed until graduation. How it was all about the good, clean atmosphere. That he didn't brook lying or cheating employees.

Not once did he call it a strip club.

—That's all well and good, Mr. Everhart. I admire your honesty. Now tell me your problem, exactly.

As if to emphasize the point, Friday chose that moment to shake his head and snort like the dog he was.

—Somehow, I've managed to hire a couple of rotten apples, and they're giving the club a bad name.

—That's an easy one, and you don't need me to help you solve it. Fire them.

—I would if I knew who they were. But they're involving some of the good, honest employees, unfortunately. I need to find out who's doing what and when and where and how—

Maddie interrupted.

—Very well. Let's talk fees. We charge a thousand a day.

—No problem.

—Plus expenses. And if I have to involve our assistant—you saw her earlier—she'll be part of the bill, too. Plus her expenses.

—That seems kind of steep for—

—I don't know what it's going to involve yet, Mr. Everhart, but just off the top of my head, it's going to involve me, and perhaps Emma, too. We'll need to sign up as employees. Are you going to be able to pay the bill?

It was a risky question. She considered apologizing for her brashness as Everhart hesitated. His eyes bored into hers until a disarming smile appeared on his face.

—Jim always said you were one tough cookie. He told me about that time when you—

She interrupted him immediately. This wasn't about Jim. She would be the one on the clock, so to speak. Except the clock had turned into a stage. A strip club stage.

—How soon would you like us to get started?

She used "us", thinking to be sure to include Emma in the gig. After all, if she was going to work in a strip club, she would want backup. She didn't want to think the word _need._

—I have a check made out for five thousand dollars. A deposit.

He handed it across the desk. Maddie looked it over before folding it and placing it under the blotter.

—If it takes less than that, there'll be a refund, I'm sure. I'll be coming in first thing tomorrow. I might bring Emma with me, just in case.

—Very well.

Everhart stood up.

—Don't come too early. We don't open until three p.m. I'll tell the manager I'm hiring new help. What names should I use?

—Don't use any. I'll want it to look like I heard about the opening via the grapevine.

2.

**FIRST THING WHEN** William Everhart left the premises she called her pole-dance instructor. She'd taken it up to keep in shape, and had kept at it until only recently. Her thinking was that she'd go back to it when Jim returned. If Jim returned. She made arrangements for herself and Emma to attend a class as fast as possible.

She regarded Friday as she considered what she would tell Emma. Friday, still missing Jim, jumped up onto his chair behind his desk and whined.

—Yeah, Friday, I know. I miss the man, too.

She skipped upstairs, calling Emma's name. The woman was busy preparing dinner.

—If I'd known you could cook, girl, I'd have brought you here a lot sooner.

Emma laughed.

—Of course you would. Just what you and Jim need. A third wheel.

She regretted the words instantly. She knew how worried Maddie was about the missing man. No one, not even his friends back at the marina on the panhandle, knew where he was. No one had word one about the man.

—He'll show up eventually. He knows I'll finish the job if anything happens to him. But the reason I came up—

—You have a case?

Emma couldn't manage to hold back the huge grin. Maddie mirrored the look. She'd be able to take her mind off of the missing man with a vengeance now.

—You bet, girl. I have a case.

—That guy's a bit of a hunk if you ask me. What's it about?

—The man owns a dance club.

—A dance club? You mean a peeler bar. A strip club, right?

—Well yeah. You up for a part-time job? I'm thinking I'm going to need some help.

Emma looked doubtful.

—Maddie, I've never danced like that. I can barely dance by myself, never mind naked with a bunch of strange men leering.

—Oh come on. How difficult can it be? I've already made an appointment with my pole dancing instructor for a refresher. You're coming with me.

Emma held up her hands.

—I have work.

—Yes, you do. Now tell me all about your first day on the job, woman. I can't wait to hear the details.

Maddie busied herself setting the table while Emma went on about her first day on the job as a big-city paramedic.

—It was amazing. Everyone is so helpful. All the old-timers gave me a hard time, but they were grinning and laughing about it. I made so many rookie mistakes they gave me a certificate.

—Seriously?

—Yeah. But I'm not the only one to get it. A bunch of other names were stroked off and replaced with mine. It was more of a joke.

—Well that's reassuring. Did your training live up to the expectations? You didn't forget to do something and kill anyone, did you?

She grinned at Emma and went on before she could answer.

—And speaking of killing, that darned Jim Nash had better show up soon or I'm going to murder him. I'll be counting on you to help clean up the crime scene. Or maybe you could take him to the hospital. I haven't decided which yet.

Emma knew Maddie was hurting. Jim hadn't confided word one to Maddie about where he was off to. He'd sneaked out of Blue Springs like a dog in broad daylight. Speaking of which, he'd asked for Maddie's permission to take Friday with him to throw her off the scent.

—Come to think of it, I may just have a few choice words for the man, too, Maddie.

Friday chose that moment to desert Jim's office chair and wander up the stairs to the third-floor apartment.

—So you gave up too, did you, dog? The master's chair was too lonely and quiet for you, was it?

Emma scratched absently at the dog's neck. He whined and settled at her feet. His chin settled on his feet, demonstrating his content for now.

—Are you ever going to tell me about the pole dancing class you signed me up for, or do I have to go online to read up on it?

3.

**MADDIE SHUT FRIDAY** in the apartment before heading for the car. She heaved the heavy bag into the Packard. She'd manage to fill it with a couple of skimpy outfits for the audition. Her dance instructor had given her makeup tips and offered up enough glitter in various shades to cover a dozen dancers. Reluctantly, Emma had agreed to accompany her.

—And what am I going to do? That instructor didn't hold high hopes for my pole work.

It was true. Young and fit as she was, Emma was no match for either woman as they jumped and slid and touched down. Emma wasn't the only one with aches and pains from the measured moves on the pole. She pretended to think.

—Maybe I could help you apply glitter. You know, like a shower of the stuff, or something.

Maddie burst out laughing.

—I won't brook any complaints about my glitter application techniques or your dancing abilities. You can be a cocktail waitress.

Emma wasn't certain the demotion would do.

—But the client didn't ask for a cocktail waitress, Maddie.

—Yeah, no, but he did say more than a few in the club were in on the stealing. You'll fit right in.

—In that case, thanks. I think.

She had convinced Emma to dress in a tight white blouse and a short, dark skirt. Thigh-high black stockings dressed up her long legs.

—If what you have on doesn't make them wonder, nothing will.

—But—

—No butts about it, girl.

—And how do you spell that, exactly?

—With two Ts, how else? Now let's get moving. I have a pole to shine and you have a butt and legs to show off.

LA MAR AZUL was in a part of the city that was up and coming. It was a new building. Lots of neon on outside walls dressed up the exterior concrete at night. Plenty of brand-new shorter towers surrounded the neighborhood. There weren't a lot of factories, from what she could see on the drive to. The parking lot was huge, a testament to the crowds that most likely showed up at quitting time and after dark.

—Look at that. A nice, new clean building. This guy must have good backers.

She pulled into the parking lot close to the exit and looked across at Emma.

—In case we have to leave in a hurry.

—That's encouraging.

Emma got out and checked her stockings. Maddie laughed.

—You're learning fast, girl. Now pull down that skirt before you start a run on the customers.

Emma blushed and straightened everything. Buttoned her blouse all the way up to the collar. Changed her mind and unbuttoned to show more than a little cleavage.

—Dammit Maddie. I'm a paramedic, not some dancing dolly. Am I getting paid for this display of flesh?

—You bet your sweet rear end you are, dearie. And quite firmly, too.

Maddie giggled at the reference.

—Now let's get in there and check the place out to see if it meets our high standards.

They laughed uproariously and made for the club's back door.

4.

**MADDIE HESITATED INSIDE** the club's door. Emma bumped into her, almost sending her sprawling. It wasn't a good introduction. She looked around, but nobody appeared to notice. The place was almost empty but for a couple of bartenders behind the room-long bar.

She approached and asked about auditions. The bartender's eyes roamed over her body before finally meeting her own and tilting his head in the direction of a dimly lit hallway.

—Down that way. You're the last.

The bartender's eyes shifted in Emma's direction and began to roam just as hungrily.

—You here for the cocktail waitress gig?

She hesitated not long enough for him to notice before nodding a yes. He handed over a pen and a form.

—Have a seat and fill this out.

He waved over the empty tables.

—Any one of them will do.

Emma made sure to pick a table in plain view of the bartender. She sat to face him, making sure to cross her legs slowly. She kicked a foot rhythmically until her shoe hung by her toes. She slowed the beat and got busy filling out the form. Maddie nudged her and grinned down.

—Good one, girl. You've done this before, haven't you?

—Not really. The only diner back home didn't need me in a short skirt and black stockings. Remember?

—Live and learn. You going to stay for my audition? My stage name is Kandi Kane, by the way. With two Ks.

Emma shook her head before turning the gesture into a nod.

—In that case, I see. Is that your Packard out back? You know, the one you used to kidnap me and bring me here?

—Well, actually, it belongs to Jim, but yeah.

—Then I'll be going home with you, Kandi Kane.

Emma turned her attention back to the application. She tapped her lower lip with the pen. She caught the bartender's eyes fixed on her. She uncrossed and crossed her legs and bent to the form. She was determined to get the job one way or the other. No way was she about leaving her friend in the lurch.

MADDIE STRUGGLED WITH THE WEIGHT of the heavy duffel as she crossed the carpeted floor. She gave up and slung it over her shoulder like a sailor on shore leave, thirsty and in a hurry to find a bar. She banged on the office door and walked in.

William Everhart was unfazed by Maddie's noisy arrival.

—I'm Kandi Kane. I'm here for an audition.

The other woman in the room was slightly older and attractive, with long blond hair and a good body. Everhart introduced her as the manager. Right off Maddie could tell she looked annoyed that she had to watch another dancer perform.

—I thought I hired them all.

Everhart looked across the desk at Maddie.

—Anna does all the hiring. You'll be performing for her during your audition.

—Thanks.

Maddie hoisted her bag and headed for the door. Before it closed, she overheard Anna querying Everhart.

—Are you having another fling? She doesn't look like she knows how to waltz.

—Hire her anyway. Put her on the early afternoon shift. She can learn as she goes.

Maddie halted at the dressing room door. Everhart wasn't far off right. She hesitated briefly. It was now or never. She turned the knob and pushed into the room. Rows of well-lit tables covered in makeup greeted her. She picked one at the very end and sat down. She rummaged through her duffel for her makeup. Found it at the bottom. Opened it before studying her reflection in the mirror.

_I can do this,_ she told herself. _I can do this. I can do this._

She stripped off her top and strapped herself into the top half of a studded bikini. Applying the makeup provided by her dance instructor would be the easy part. Long false eyelashes. Eye shadow. Bright lipstick, over-applied. Plenty of glitter to sparkle under the stage lights.

She found the Lucite shoes. Shook her head at the height of them. If she was lucky she wouldn't stumble and break an ankle. She wriggled out of her cutoffs and underwear and donned the g-string matching the top. She applied more glitter to her stomach and legs. Checked her butt in the mirror, slapped it and grinned. Jim should be here to see this—

Disappointment replaced the thought. _If she didn't kill him first._

5.

**MADDIE NAVIGATED PAST A FIELD** of empty tables and chairs on her way to the stage. A few die-hard dancers remained at the edge. Waiting. Wanting to see the latest. Wondered if they were better. Or worse. Like she did. Only, she knew she was worse than all of them.

_I can do this. I can do this. If only Jim could see me now. Missing. He was missing. Where the hell was he?_

She shook her head to clear it and looked across the mostly empty room in the DJ's direction. She had left her playlist with him earlier. Music she didn't recognize boomed across the room. She halted, annoyed. Hands went to hips. A knee bent and a Lucite-encased foot tapped the floor. Her expression easy to read with the makeup piled on her face.

—Sorry. Sorry.

She wondered who it was convinced him to screw up her audition. Jealous much? Figured she must have been rocking the costume and smiled at her audacity. The DJ waved in her direction. Her dance instructor's old playlist rocked the room. Nostalgic, or what? She didn't get the new music anyway.

She looked across the huge, empty room. Recognized Anna. William Everhart beside her. They were whispering. Or talking. She couldn't tell with the music playing.

And then the room lights dimmed and the stage lights came up and she didn't have time for anything else. Not even Emma, who had by now submitted her application to the bartender. She moved and was standing, invisible and unseen, in front of the stage. She would stay that way until Maddie's eyes became accustomed to the bright lights focused on the stage.

Spillover from the lights illuminated Emma clutching folded dollar bills in one hand.

The DJ went into his introduction shtick. Called out her name. Kandi Kane. A new dancer. Learning the ropes. Give her a break and a hand, everyone. Lackluster hand clapping welcomed her.

Her welcome to the afternoon shift, she guessed.

Maddie made it to the center of the stage without stumbling or tripping over the Lucite shoes. Proceeded to nervously circle the chrome pole as she gripped it with one hand. One revolution. Two. She didn't trip. Showed the non-existent audience some teeth in a wide grin.

Happily kicked off her shoes to go barefoot with bright red toes. Grinned across the stage at an audience that wasn't there. And even if it was, she couldn't see it.

6.

**MADDIE ALREADY KNEW** she would commence her routine with the familiar. It was one she'd worked at and rehearsed more than once with her dance instructor during class. It wasn't new to her. What was new was that she was performing live in a strip club complete with skimpy costume, piles of makeup and plenty of glitter.

She circled the pole a third time. Free arm outstretched. Connected with both hands and pulled herself up into an ankle hook as she circled the chrome. Moved to a knee hook and kept on going, lower and lower, until the floor halted her downward motion.

She climbed. Put her head back. Shook her hair. Allowed herself to slip half-way in a fireman down. From there she went into a tabletop and held it longer than she should. Knew it and slipped to the floor again. She climbed. Did another tabletop. Followed up with a carousel. Held her head back.

Her stomach ached. Her legs strained. Her back was killing her. She did a final climb ending with a fireman down. On the way she unhooked her top and flung it off the stage before landing on the floor. She stepped away from the pole. Settled on her hands and knees. Sweating profusely, she crawled towards the stage's edge to begin her floor work.

And recognized Emma. A huge, unmoving grin pasted on the woman's face. Saw the hand reaching. Paper. She was holding paper. No. Money. Holding out money. She moved closer. Allowed her to slip it into the bottom of her g-string. Rolled onto her back and away.

Looked for others. Saw none.

Right, she remembered, suddenly. It was an audition. No paying customers. The club was barely open. She'd have to be satisfied with Emma's donation. She slithered back on her stomach, rolled onto her side, and spread her legs.

Emma grimaced. Reached. Tucked another bill into the top of Maddie's g-string before moving back. She bumped against a man. Mumbled an unheard apology. Grimaced. Tried to worm her way out of his grip. Found herself at the entrance door, about to be bounced.

She kicked out with a spiky, pointed shoe. Got lucky and landed the blow on the bouncer's shin. He cursed. Bent. Released her. She ran past him to the bar and the not so bad looking bartender.

—What the hell was that about?

—Staff isn't allowed to touch the dancers.

—What? I was putting money in her g-string. Men do that, I'm sure. Is this a no-touch place or what?

She'd never heard of that. Made it up on the spot. But then, this was her first visit to a strip club. What did she know?

—House rule. I guess you don't know them yet.

He waved for Anna to approach.

—Our new cocktail waitress. Anna. Meet Emma. Emma doesn't know the rules yet.

—Lucky for her. Come with, Emma. I'll show you the ropes, so to speak.

The bouncer approached, limping. Anna regarded him before speaking.

—Boomer. The shift hasn't even started yet and you're limping, thanks to Emma here.

Emma regarded Boomer with a solicitous look.

—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.

Boomer only grinned at the woman.

—For someone as small as you, you sure pack a mean one.

He looked at Anna.

—How about we make her a bouncer?

Anna waved a hand. Knew he wasn't serious. Took Emma by the arm and led her away.

—Those kidders. Watch out for them. They like to play tricks when you're least expecting it.

7.

**EXHAUSTED, DONE WITH HER SET,** Maddie descended to the floor. Searched for her costume top. Found it and bent at the waist to retrieve it. She knew by instinct that was the way to do it. She held it up with one hand to cover her breasts. She weaved past tables on the way to the dressing room. Desultory applause accompanied her.

She had made it through her performance. Hadn't tripped. Hadn't slipped and fallen off the pole. Knew next time she'd wipe it down beforehand.

She looked back over he shoulder to find Emma. Couldn't see her. Proceeded to the dressing room to be greeted by a couple of the afternoon-shift girls.

—You did pretty good. More practice and you'll be one of the regulars.

—Thanks. I—

Anna walked into the dressing room.

—You're going to start right now with the afternoon shift, Kandi Kane. How many costumes did you bring?

She tried to remember.

—I think I brought three.

If worse came to worse she could send Emma out to pick up something for her.

—Your friend is hired too. She's already got her name tag and she's serving drinks on the floor. It looks like she's going to fit right in with the rest of them.

Kandi Kane donned her robe and went onto the floor to circulate. She bumped into Emma serving a table. Read her name tag.

—Miss Li-Li.

—That's pronounced Lily for you, Kandi Kane with two Ks.

The women grinned at each other.

—Well excuse me, Miss LiLi.

Tables were beginning to fill with men entering in threes and fours. Some rushed to the edge of the stage for front row seats. Some stayed back, perhaps not wanting to appear too eager to view the smorgasbord of half-naked flesh that was beginning a new show.

There were plenty of stages to go round, too Four, in fact. Only two were in use now, but Maddie knew from Anna's spiel that come midnight or earlier, all four would be going at full-tilt boogie pace.

—Hey, Mads.

Emma had been calling Maddie that since she'd come to the city with her after Jim departed for points unknown. Damn him to hell, now that she'd thought of him.

—Yes, Miss Li-Li?

—Did you see the shower stall?

—What? A shower stall? Where?

She looked around apprehensively.

—I won't be dirtying my soul with a shower in that thing, come hell or high water.

—It's not your dirty soul they'll be wanting, woman. It's your shiny wet bod that'll be the talk of the town.

—Yeah. No. No one told me I'd be taking a shower on-stage anyway.

—Uh-huh. I'm taking bets with one of the other new waitresses that it's going to be your turn come the midnight hour. Pictures at one.

—If you take pictures of me—

Maddie halted mid-phrase. She knew Emma wouldn't be taking any pictures. Besides, it was against house rules for the guests, too. Strictly enforced, according to Anna. Even Boomer had been straight with both of them regarding clients and photographs.

—Not permitted. If you see something, say something and I'll take him out back.

—And do what, Boomer?

He considered a moment before answering.

—I'll break his phone and then his hand.

—All righty then.

Kandi Kane wandered off to change into a more suitable outfit for table dancing.

—And I have to wait the tables. Catch you later, Boomer.

8.

**MADDIE WAS SECRETLY PLEASED.** She'd made it through her performance. Hadn't tripped. Hadn't slipped and fallen. Hadn't done to badly, even if she did think so herself. In any case, she figured a review by Anna or another dancer would be coming eventually. She steeled herself as she walked into the dressing room to change.

She walked past several tables with dancers she hadn't yet met. All said hello. She made for her table at the very end. It was occupied. Her makeup was scattered on the floor.

—Excuse me. Is that my stuff on the floor? Did you do that?

The woman ignored her and continued to apply makeup. Maddie made a fist, hauled it back and decked her. The force of the blow slid the woman onto the floor at Maddie's feet. She helped her back up and pretended to slap dirt off her ass. The slaps weren't gentle.

—I hit you on your hairline. The bruise won't show. Next time, show some r-e-s-p-e-c-t or I'll do it again.

She never got an apology. The woman merely moved her kit to another table and began applying makeup all over again.

Which was all well and good, but where were the crooked dancers she was being paid to locate? She checked her makeup in the mirror, reapplied some lipstick, and shook her head at the glitter covering the visible parts of her body. That meant most of it. She turned and walked onto the floor to meet-and-greet.

She scored a couple of table dances. Collected her tips. Then ended up in a party room. She was about to begin her lap dance when the room's speaker system paged her to perform on-stage. So someone was keeping track. That was good.

—I'm new. I have to go on when they tell me to. I'll find another dancer for you.

She made the arrangement and scurried back-stage to change her costume. She groaned out loud at the effort required to make the costume change. The top wasn't so much of a problem. She could fasten it in front and turn it around before fitting her arms through.

The g-string bottom was another problem. Bending over and tensing her stomach muscles actually hurt. Her butt and thighs were no picnic, either. The pole routine was killing her. Her abs screamed. Her hands ached from sliding up and down the pole. The backs of her knees for the same reason. She had to pretend enthusiasm, but it was only her second set. Already she was ready to slither onto the floor in a pile of muscle and nervous exhaustion like she'd never before experienced. Every move was agony. Even Emma saw it when she was brave enough to look.

She approached the stage with a round of drinks and their eyes met. Emma only shook her head. Maddie pasted a smile on her face and wondered what the hell she was doing, showing off her half-naked body on a brightly-lit stage.

Her set ended and she clomped off in her Lucite shoes. It took a little longer to get out on the floor this time. She considered volunteering for a shower on-stage to wring out the aches and pains, then changed her mind. There was no way the water would be hot.

She passed one of the private rooms on her way to the floor. Being nosy and since it was her job, she looked in. A dancer was in the process of going through a wallet. It was the women she'd sucker punched in the dressing room for throwing her makeup on the floor. She cleared her throat noisily.

—You need some help?

The woman put the wallet down

—I was looking for his card.

She went back to gyrating overtop of her customer. Emma chose the moment to show up with a bottle of champagne and more glasses.

—Will you be joining our client, Kandi?

—I don't see why not.

Emma left the bottle and three glasses, winked at Maddie, and departed for the bar. Maddie called after her.

—Your tip!

The dancer magically came up with her client's wallet. She searched for a credit card. Found one. Ran it through a machine she fished out of her purse. Right away she noticed there was no receipt printout.

—All right then, ladies. Thanks for the help. You go on and do your thing. The sooner the better.

Maddie and Emma exchanged glances. When they were clear of the room, they stopped to compare notes.

—If that bottle came out of our stock—

—I can't see that it did. It must be bootleg. Does that mean the bartender is in on it?

—Has to be. Who else? I didn't see anyone else handle the bottle when I was waiting for it.

—But where do they keep it? And how did she ring up that card and not use our system? Come on. We're taking a break right now.

Maddie found Anna. Explained what she'd just witnessed. Anna wanted to fire the guilty parties right off.

—You might fire two of them, but what if there's more?

Anna hesitated and regarded Maddie and Emma.

—You're her partner?

—Yes, ma'am.

—Don't ma'am me. I'm not that old.

—Our cover will be blown and we won't know if there's more of them.

Anna thought for a moment.

—You're right. I'm over-reacting.

—I need to do some scouting and I'm going to take Emma. As of now we're on break.

9.

**IT WASN'T THAT DIFFICULT.** Maddie was certain she would find a wireless receiver—a hotspot—in the club's parking lot. What else could it be? A mobile hotspot could be driven to another club and set up almost instantly. Or it could sit there all night, stealing credit card information.

—Come on, Emma. We're going out back for a kissing session.

Emma looked around the dimly lit parking lot. It was filled with cars, and from what she could tell, some of them had windows fogged over by things only the occupants knew about.

—What? Nuh-uh. I'm not into girls.

—Well, it's that or we lose our payday. Come on. Here's what I have in mind.

She explained on the way and Emma nodded in agreement. When they reached the edge of the lot, they joined hands again and got as close as they could get to the cars.

—We're looking for a vehicle. Could be a van. Probably only one occupant. Blinking LEDs. Maybe a laptop to coordinate it all.

They came up empty, until Emma witnessed an overhead light blinking in a darkened corner of the lot.

—Look. Over there. Did you see that? That's where he'll be.

Emma tugged Maddie towards the unlit area. A car with its interior light illuminating the inside was hiding in the dark. The women pretended to snuggle as they drew closer. Emma giggled uncomfortably. Maddie laughed. Feet encased in Lucite clickety-clacked on the asphalt.

—If you grab my rear I'm out, Maddie.

—Don't worry, girl. One of us has to be the bait. If I grab your ass it'll be because I'm throwing you to the wolves. Running in these shoes is impossible and we both know it.

The light in the car went out. The women halted as though in lockstep.

—He's spotted us.

—No he hasn't. He's lighting a cigarette.

A cloud of smoke exited the driver-side window.

—Told ya. Come on. Let's get closer.

The car started. Maddie and Emma resumed their snuggling. It drove past the giggling pair and, satisfied, the driver returned to his spot in the dark.

—He's def up to no good. How are we going to get a look?

The car's interior light went out. Maddie led Emma on a quick stroll around a couple of cars before dragging her in the direction of the back of the suspect car.

—Here's what we'll do.

10.

**MADDIE MADE A QUICK GRAB** for Emma. Shocked by the sudden attention, the girl gasped and struggled. Maddie whirled her around to face her. She picked Emma up and gripped her thighs.

—What the hell are you doing?

—See? Told ya I wouldn't grab your ass.

Maddie slammed Emma down on the trunk of the suspect's car and looked in. Emma gasped. She whispered into her friend's ear.

—I was right. There's a laptop. And it looks like—

The interior light flicked out. The door opened and the light turned on again until it slammed shut.

—What are you bitches doing? Get off my car.

Maddie let go of Emma and she slid down from the trunk until her feet touched.

—I'm so sorry. We were just—

—Sure you were. I get it. Go do it on someone else's car, okay?

He locked the door and walked towards the club. The women waited until he disappeared inside.

—Come on. Let's take a look while we have the chance.

Maddie pulled out her phone and aimed the light through the window. Immediately she began snapping photos. For good measure she snapped one of the license plate, too.

—I can get that to Boyle and have him check it out for us.

—Who's Boyle again?

—He's Jim's detective friend on the local force.

—And he'll do stuff for you, too?

—He will when I tell him I'm going to murder Jim for being absent without telling me. And for not calling to check in. Trust me, Boyle's wife will help me.

Emma didn't say a word. Jim's absence was affecting Maddie. The woman was a mess and didn't realize it. She even called out his name in her sleep.

—Come on, Maddie. Let's go inside. We need to get a picture of this guy.

—You forget. No in-club photos allowed.

Emma wasn't convinced.

—In that case, let's test the system.

The women returned to the club to find a man in deep conversion with the bartender and one of the girls. Maddie elbowed Emma.

—That's him. He's with the girl from the private room we were in, remember?

—Now what?

Kandi Kane's name blared from the sound system. The DJ waved in her direction.

—Looks to me like it's going to be up to you, girl. I have to go to work.

Emma rolled her eyes.

—You call that work? I call it payback for Jim gone missing.

Maddie scowled at Emma.

—Maybe, Miss LiLi, but at least he knows where to find me. That's more than I can say for him.

—That's Miss Lily to you, Kandi with a K.

Maddie hurried off in the direction of the dressing room, only to return to the stage minutes later decked out in a new costume. Her playlist blared, and she began her shift, working the pole like a trouper.

Emma approached the bar for a fresh tray of drinks and sidled up to the man she recognized as being from the car.

—Can I interest you in a private room later?

That got side-eye from the dancer talking to him.

—You trying to steal my customer, Miss LiLi?

—I don't think she'd be interested, Bayly. She was out in the parking lot making out with Kandi Kane up there.

—Really? Is that true, LiLi? Who would have known?

—I was merely hustling some work for Kandi. She needs the money. So do I.

She considered the unfamiliar credit card machine in the bottle room that didn't do printouts.

—Any idea how we can make more?

—I might. How late are you working?

—I think Kandi and I are on the early shift. We just started today. I'm so glad to have a job where tips are good I'd do almost anything.

—In that case, stay close to me. I might have work for you.

Bayly whispered into the man's ear. He nodded before disappearing out the front. Emma knew he was headed to the parking lot and the wifi hotspot.

11.

**EMMA HAD A BREAK COMING UP** and she was going to take it in the back parking lot or else. She wanted to revisit the man in the car. She checked to make sure no one followed her—especially Maddie—before making for the back exit. She approached the car and bent to look, tapping on the passenger window as she did. The lone occupant, hunched over a laptop, straightened at the interruption.

—What do you want? It can't be a date. You kiss women.

The window came down the rest of the way as Emma leaned in and frowned. He reached to unlock the door before opening it.

—A gentleman, too.

He looked across at her as she slid in, her skirt riding up to expose bare thigh at the top of her stockings.

—Like I asked. What do you want?

Emma took a deep breath and began her spiel.

—It's my dad. Back in Colorado. He's sick. I think it's cancer. He won't tell me. He won't say anything.

Why did lying have to so difficult? She halted to take a deep breath before going on.

—He has to go back and forth to Denver. You know. For treatment. It's taking a lot of money. We don't have a lot. I don't have much—

He interrupted her.

—And you want to make some more, right?

Emma nodded.

—What about your girlfriend?

She almost sputtered that Maddie wasn't her girlfriend before she caught herself.

—I was asking for me. You can ask her yourself. You want me to feel her out first?

—I think you've already been feeling her out, but yeah. Ask her.

Emma went to open the door. He grabbed her arm and squeezed. Hard.

—You're not a snitch, are you? Or a cop working the fraud detail?

She went all pouty and wondered how many times Jim and Maddie had been asked that same question.

—Nope. I just need cash. Fast. For my dad and all.

—I'll have to clear it with some people first. You better get back in there fast before someone misses you.

—I'm on break.

—Yeah, well, break is over as far as I'm concerned. Go back to work.

Emma rubbed her arm on the walk back to the club. She considered whether to tell Maddie about the deal she made. On the one hand, she didn't want to get Maddie's hopes up that together they had an in. On the other, she knew Maddie might not like that she had gone and stuck her nose where it didn't belong.

She pulled open the back door to the club and made up her mind at the same time.

12.

**KANDI KANE ENDED HER SET** and walked off the stage to collect her top before proceeding to the dressing room. She crossed paths with Emma on the way.

—Where did you go? I didn't see you on the floor.

—Oh I had a break coming. I went out to check out the sights.

—Is that car still there?

Emma face turned red before she realized her mistake. Hoped she didn't show it in the dimly lit club.

—Oh, I never looked. I was just glad to get out of the crowd and the noise—

—Girl, how are you going to make detective grade if you're not paying attention?

Emma was immediately sorry she'd lied to Maddie, but it couldn't be helped. She was sure the woman wouldn't be happy knowing she'd gone out and made her own deal with the team of thieves.

—Anyway I have to get out there and work the floor for dances. Maybe you can push a private room my way if you hear anything, okay?

They high-fived and went back to work.

Emma stewed over her decision while she waited for a tray of drinks at the bar. The bartender, Ronnie, kept slipping her the evil eye. Bayly hovered off to the side. Didn't that woman ever dance? Then it occurred to her. Was someone making sure that only certain women worked the bottle rooms? Were others kept to perform on-stage or on the floor doing table dances?

She wanted to mention it to Maddie, but the woman had disappeared into a room to do what she was supposed to. Emma collected her tray and wandered off, hopping from table to table, offering smiles and hope and drinks for everyone—as long as they paid. The tipping didn't hurt, either, but hope wasn't an option. In no one's world would she be going home with any of them.

Emma carried on serving drinks, collecting money, clearing tables and shaking her rear. She smiled pleasantly the entire time. Her tips were good, and she thought she might have a career, until she considered the effort she'd put into her schooling. Her first day of training on her new paramedic job had gone all right, too, but it seemed a long way away from where she was.

She looked over the room. Didn't see anyone trying to get her attention for drinks. Set her tray on the bar and told Ronnie she was heading off for a bathroom break. She met Bayly on the way, and the woman followed her into the restroom.

—What are you up to, bitch? You looking to cut into my earnings?

Emma regarded the woman in the mirror and wondered what the right answer would be. She went for the sob story she'd told in the parking lot.

—Not at all. My dad is sick. He needs money to pay medical bills. I'm the sole supporter. Without what I send home he'd be a lot sicker.

She was certain it wouldn't be long before both parties were comparing her stories. She hoped she had sounded desperate enough. She wanted to help Maddie as much as she could. Just as she was thinking Bayly didn't believe her, the woman put an arm around her and smiled into her reflection.

—I'll put in a word for you. It might take a while.

—That's all right. I'm not going anywhere. What can I do in the meantime?

13.

**MADDIE SASHAYED PAST** what appeared to her untrained eye as promising tables. Her hips swayed seductively. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a couple of older men giving her the look. She halted suddenly and whirled. Her robe ballooned. She chose one and leaned over, revealing just enough cleavage to tantalize yet promise nothing.

—Would anyone like a dance?

Embarrassed laughter followed the question. A blushing man looked shyly up at her. She made sure to tighten her stomach, not that she needed to do much tightening. It was fine just the way it was. The motion caused her to wince.

—My wife would never approve.

Kandi Kane backed off a step, put her hands on her hips, and feigned looking around the packed room.

—I don't see her here. Perhaps you could point her out.

More laughter from his comrades, and the man dropped a fifty on the table.

—For that I'll take you to a room. How about it? Now fold that paper and tuck it in here.

She pulled back her robe and hooked a finger beneath her g-string, yanking it out. When the fifty touched her, she released it. It snapped back, trapping the bill. Someone would take his credit card when he got to the room, but that wasn't her problem. She looked to check the LEDs above the rooms. They were all shining red. Occupied. She made a show of tapping the fifty.

—I'll hang onto this until a room is available. If you want it back, you're going to have to come and get it.

She winked. Allowed the g-string a quick snap against the fifty suck to her damp skin. Ran a hand over the top of the man's head. Damn but she was getting good at this. She was making good tips, too. Immediately she thought that if Nash didn't show up soon, she'd found her calling.

And then felt guilty. She was here to do a job, not look for a new one.

MADDIE'S END OF SHIFT was coming up. Midnight. Not soon enough, in her estimation. All that work she'd expended on the pole was taking a toll. Her stomach was killing her. Her hands ached from gripping the pole. She had red splotches behind her knees from sliding down the pole. She was exhausted. Wanted a hot meal and a bed and a nuzzle from Friday. She wouldn't mind one from Jim, either, now that she thought about it. She wondered how the dog was doing locked in the apartment. He was going to need a long run for sure.

Feeling guilty. That's what it was. She was feeling guilty that she'd brought Emma along on this folly. She could easily do it on her own. She'd talk to Emma when they got home and let her know she could bow out.

She put the negative thoughts away and went back to work.

Her last call came over the sound system. Her playlist boomed. She approached the pole. Gave it a good wipe. Wiping made all the difference. Went back to work secure in the knowledge that she'd be home in bed in no time. She only hoped she wouldn't have to wait for Emma's shift to end.

She looked around. Where was that woman, anyway? She hadn't seen her for what seemed like hours.

14.

**EMMA STEELED HERSELF FOR WHAT** she knew was coming. She'd taken it upon herself to check the parking lot after her shift ended. She fully intended to tell Maddie where she was going. Would have, except she couldn't find her. Discovered the guy in the car and Bayly deep in conversation in the back seat.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't the conversation that was deep. But it was something, judging by the sounds Bayly was making. She waited patiently before approaching. Knocked on the window. Waited longer for the cursing to subside as clothes went on.

—What do you want?

An exasperated and disheveled Bayly recognized her. As though she'd been rudely interrupted. Yet Emma knew the man wouldn't be capable of performing a second time judging by the mess presenting itself.

—I want to make the extra money I've been offered. How soon can I start?

—We'll be out in a minute, okay? Go somewhere and wait.

More scrambling to find shoes and what was left of Bayly's costume and the man's pants in the front seat. She smiled to herself and wondered if they were a couple or only a one-off quickie. The interior light flashed. She overheard mumbling about clothes and where they were.

Finally the door opened and two slightly embarrassed people stepped out.

—I'm sorry. I didn't know—

—Don't concern yourself with it. What's done is done. Have you got a car? You can follow us.

She didn't have a car. And she wasn't going back into the club to ask Maddie for hers. There was no sense alerting her to what she was doing. Maddie would never let her do it alone.

—No, no car.

—All right. You can ride with us. Get in.

Emma made sure not to get in the back seat. She waited for Bayly to get in the front, and then forced her to scooch over. She should have called shotgun. Laughed.

—What's so funny?

—Nothing. Where are we going?

15.

**IMMEDIATELY EMMA WONDERED** if she should be concerned about getting in a car with these two. No doubt Maddie was going to be annoyed with her, too. When she found out she'd deserted the strip club ship she was pretty sure Maddie would read her the riot act about taking off without telling her where she was going.

While she was worrying about that, the car pulled into a driveway. Already Emma was lost. Unfamiliar as she was with the big city, she knew she'd be in trouble if she had to make good an escape. Why oh why hadn't she found Maddie to let her know what she was doing?

The man opened his door.

—You two wait here. I need to check something out first.

The last thing Emma wanted was to pretend to bond with Bayly. She did it anyway. She kept it work-related, asking about her dance experience. About the clubs she'd worked at. Learned the man's name was Eddie and she had a thing for him. Made mental notes for Maddie so she'd be able to update their client, Everhart. Maybe the woman—the team?—was scamming other clubs, too.

She made sure to check out the number on the house. If she could only get a street—

Eddie appeared on the front stoop of the older house. He waved, and Bayly pushed at Emma to get out. It was put up or shut up time.

MADDIE GAVE UP WAITING for Emma to show up. She had already asked around for her. She was starting to get concerned for Emma's well-being. She made for the parking lot and discovered Emma's bag by the Packard's driver door. So she was still here. Or somewhere nearby. She climbed into the car. Exhausted from her performances, she closed her eyes and hunkered down to wait.

She woke with a start. Straightened in the seat. Every fiber in her body ached. She thought she was in shape before this pole-polishing gig started, but after her first night, she found herself dead tired and ready for a hot tub and bed. And still there was no Emma. She checked her watch.

It was time to bring in the big dogs. She drove home to a warm, cold-nose welcome from Friday. He sniffed, waiting expectantly for Emma to appear. When she didn't, he nudged Maddie's thigh.

—That's right, boy. She's deserted us. Now come on. It's time to go find Emma.

She tucked one of Emma's tees into a plastic bag before putting Friday on his long leash to lead him to the car. She made it to the strip club in record time on the city's deserted streets. She pulled into the club's parking lot and got out.

—All right, Friday. It's time to go to work.

She made sure he smelled Emma's shirt to get the scent and off they went. She led him in a circle around the club. The dog halted at the back door before pulling her across the empty parking lot to the darkened corner. It was where the hotspot car had been parked.

He sat down and looked up at her.

—Good boy, Friday.

She fed him a treat and scratched his neck.

—Now where is she?

Friday didn't know, but he barked anyway, hoping it would draw Emma's attention and let her know he was there. Still she didn't show, and he sensed his mistress wasn't happy.

—Where did that woman—

Screeching tires drew her attention away from Friday to the approaching car. Friday stood up, ready to protect his mistress. The car halted beneath a light. She recognized Emma getting out before the car u-turned and sped away.

—Go, Friday. Let her know we're annoyed.

She dropped the leash and Friday bounded off towards Emma, happily wagging his tail all the way. He halted beside Emma and barked once to announce he'd found the missing woman. Maddie called out.

—Well no shit, Sherlock. Even I can see her.

—Don't you be picking on Friday. He did his best, judging by the look on your face.

Maddie was annoyed, and she wanted Emma to know it.

—Where did you run off to? We were supposed to go home together. How the hell was I going to know what was going on? Damn you woman. Did you hook up with a customer or what?

16.

**MADDIE DROVE THE THREESOME** home in utter silence. She was afraid if she opened her mouth all of her frustration with Jim's absence would come out. And once she started on Jim, she'd end up so angry and frustrated that she'd move on to Emma running off and putting herself in danger. With no backup.

Darn that girl and her impulsive behavior. She needed Emma. She wasn't only a friend, though. She needed her for the case, too.

Friday wasn't so circumspect. He spent the entire ride home nuzzling and licking Emma to let her know how much he'd missed her. By the time Maddie worked the huge Packard into its parking space in front of the building, alligator tears were rolling down her face. Even Friday was distraught.

—Don't you ever do that again, Emma. You could have ended up somewhere, somewhere—

—I'm sorry. I didn't think. I wanted to help out with the case.

—But you are helping me with the case just by being there for me.

—I know, but I wanted to do more. I saw an opportunity so I showed some initiative and went for it.

—You certainly did. Now let's go. I need a hot bath and a cold drink.

Emma ran the bath while she explained what she'd discovered by tagging along with Bayly and Eddie.

—You should have seen the place. There were ten or twelve people there. Credit card machines. Plastic cards. Readers. I've never seen anything like it, even on news programs.

—So they've got a major fraud ring helping them steal credit card numbers. I think I'd better let Boyle know about this first thing in the morning.

—I thought you said he was a homicide detective.

—He is, but he'll pass it on to whoever needs to know. It'll be good for us and better for him.

—How so?

Maddie explained.

—He'll make points with his commander, that's how so. And we'll get points with Boyle for future consideration. Not that we need any with him. Jim and Don are good friends.

Emma turned the water off.

—I'm not wasting time with this. I'm climbing in with you. Friday, close your eyes and don't look.

Friday wasn't there. He was down in the office, sitting in Jim's chair, busy wondering if he'd done something wrong that Jim hadn't come home.

MADDIE WOKE WITH A START. The bath water was cold. She moved to climb out and groaned. The day's exercise hadn't gone exactly as planned. While she thought she was in shape, she now knew she was nowhere near it for this pole dancing thing. She dried off before going to the living room to pull the sofa bed out for Emma. She returned to shake the woman awake.

—Come on, girl. It's time to hit the hay, as you country girls say.

—What's the plan for tomorrow then?

—More of the same. I'll die a little bit more and you'll find out how many others are involved in the credit card scam.

—Are you still mad at me?

—Not at all. You were out doing the work on the case while I was inside dancing my ass and every other body part off. Good work on your part.

—Seriously?

—Of course. Maybe I'm just a little bit jealous you were the one who found more than a clue. So go to bed. Tomorrow is a new day.

Maddie called out from the bedroom.

—Is it okay if we leave the door open for Friday to come back and forth? He's sulking in Jim's office chair.

Heads hit pillows and the women fell asleep almost immediately. Friday remained downstairs, fast asleep in his office bed. He kept an ear cocked for Jim, just in case.

17.

**EMMA WOKE TO FIND FRIDAY** fast asleep in his own bed in the living room. She patted the bed and he jumped up to commiserate. Maddie looked in from the kitchen and caught him out.

—Friday, you know you're not supposed to be on the beds. That dog will be the ruination of us all one day.

—Oh come on, grouch. He's fine. Aren't you boy?

Friday burrowed in the sheets and chased a giggling Emma out of bed with a cold nose to her backside. He snorted and jumped down and went to the kitchen to investigate.

—Here's breakfast. Come and get it or I'll throw it away. That's what Jim always says. Friday knows better. He gets to eat first.

Friday made for his bowl. Sniffed. Tasted. Looked up and Maddie.

—That's right. No fresh crisp bacon bits for your breakfast until your master comes home.

The dog whined and dug in anyway. He finished by lapping up a huge drink of water.

—What are we going to do about him today, Maddie? Are we going to leave him here again?

—I can't take him with me to the club. He can't sit out in the sun all day.

—I'd offer to take him with me on my shift, but there's too many strangers and I don't think the station would like it anyway.

—Maybe Nancy will do me a favor. I'll call her. Her little girl likes Friday. So does she, now that I think about it.

—Nancy?

—Yeah. Boyle's wife. We get along pretty good. I consider her a friend.

THEY HEADED FOR BOYLE'S. Maddie was pleased when she saw Don was still home.

—You get a day off, fisherman?

—Once in a while.

—Well, before you go, Emma and I have something for you.

Emma stuck a hand into a back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.

—This is the address. I wrote it down last night.

Maddie proceeded to explain to Boyle what Emma discovered the night before on her adventure. Boyle raised an eyebrow and regarded Emma.

—Do you have a PI license, young lady?

She looked at Maddie.

—Umm—

—I'll take that as a no.

The detective looked Maddie in the eye and didn't need to say anything more. She got the picture.

—I'll tell the guys about it. Don't do anything to get yourselves in trouble. What is it you're working on again?

Maddie tried kicking Emma under the table and missed.

—Oh Maddie is working on a case in a strip club. La Mar Azul.

Boyle's eyes widened.

—If I wasn't married—

Nancy chose that moment to enter the kitchen.

—What was that, dear? If you weren't married? What is it about marriage?

—I was just telling Don about our case, Nancy. And he was asking if I'd heard from Jim yet, that's all.

—Sounds fishy to me.

Nancy called to the dog.

—Friday. Go upstairs and see Trisha. Maybe she'll make tea for you.

Friday happily snorted and climbed the stairs for parts unknown. When he entered the little girl's bedroom, she squealed and called out his name. It didn't stop Nancy from trying to make a point.

—Don't make a habit of hanging out in strip clubs, Maddie. It's not good for your mental health.

—We're working a case, Nance.

—Even so, dear. Right, Don?

—Of course. You're right.

Maddie pushed back her chair.

—Come on, Emma. It's time to get to work.

Maddie dropped Emma at her paramedic station and proceeded to the club. She stopped off on the way and picked up a jeweled costume at a spot her pole dance instructor recommended. She waved a greeting to the bartender and the bouncers on her way to the dressing room.

Already the room was busy with women in various stages of undress. Makeup brushes flew over faces. Hair was brushed. Breasts were tucked into tops to their best advantage. She did the same, and scattered glitter over herself for good measure. Why not, she figured. Everyone else was doing it.

On the way by, she checked herself out in the dressing room's full length mirror.

—Well, it looks to me like I'm ready.

She turned, slapped her ass, and made for the stage. Already the DJ had her playlist booming. She regretted every muscle in her body as she made for the pole and stretched to reach up as far as her tattered muscles would let her.

18.

**MADDIE FINISHED HER SET EXHAUSTED.** Arms and legs trembled uncontrollably. She drew a deep breath, and unsteady on her feet, didn't trust them to take her down the steps to work the floor. She carried her shoes as she walked back to the dressing room to change. Afraid to sit, she touched up her makeup while standing. The uncomfortable Lucite shoes remained in the dressing room and she walked the floor barefoot.

No one noticed. The men were more interested in what wasn't revealed beneath the not so sheer robe. She had learned from observing the other girls as they worked the floor. Cover up. Only show skin when the customer paid up front. She didn't need to be told twice. Tips were better that way, too.

She searched the room for Emma, unsure if her paramedic shift was over. She located her, and motioned to the back door. They met outside in the cool air.

—Have you seen the car? Is it here?

—From what I can tell, it's always here. Kind of like a stakeout. They arrive when the club opens. We know when they leave.

—Closing time.

—Yes.

Emma fastened her eyes on Maddie.

—You look beat. Are you all right?

Maddie sighed.

—I'll live. Barely. I'm so sore I'd kill for a hot bath in the dressing room.

—Maybe you should make use of that shower on stage.

—Somehow I doubt there's any hot water. It'll be cold for a reason.

Emma laughed.

—I see what you mean in this cold air. I can only imagine the colder water.

—No more talking shop. Do you have anything new on the case?

—I might. I found out there was a fight at the house after I left.

—Oh really. What happened?

—I overheard Ronnie and Bayly talking. Something about me and you and how we shouldn't be trusted.

Maddie regarded Emma with a maternal look.

—You need to be careful, Miss Lily.

—That's Miss LiLi to you. How many times do I have to tell you?

—I'm serious. There has to be a lot of money changing hands in that house. Imagine how many credit cards are being duplicated. I'd like to know what they're selling for.

—In that case, I'll see what I can find out. Ronnie asked me out after my shift. I'll see if I can get him to take me to the house.

—Be careful, Emma. That short skirt is working too well.

—And don't I know it by the number of times I've been groped by your customers.

—Did you tell Boomer?

—Yeah, no. I figured good tips were more important. I have rent to pay, you know.

—You do not!

—Well, in that case, that's my story and I'm sticking with it for now. I gotta get back to the grind. Speaking of which, your grind is slowing down. Step it up, woman, or your customers will start to complain.

—Thanks for those words of encouragement. I think.

19.

**MADDIE ZIGGED AND ZAGGED HER WAY** towards a pair of tables pulled together. She was forced to stop several times by waving men nodding recognition. Already she was becoming a popular dancer. She didn't understand it, but a couple of the regulars pulled her aside and informed her she was the talk of the evening. Something about the way she moved and her devil may care attitude to the men on the floor when she walked by.

At first glance, the group at the double setup didn't appear drunk. She made her assessment and decided to approach. She was almost at the table when the gunshot sounded, overtaking the blaring music. Or was it a firecracker? It was hard to tell with the music cranked up and the applause for the current hour's attraction. Another crack, and she witnessed Boomer accompanied by another bouncer she didn't know diving on two men.

Boomer's arm came up. His hand gripped a wrist. In the dim light she could barely make it out. It was a revolver. Five shots. Maybe six at most. Somehow Boomer forced the pistol to point at the ceiling. He had to have his finger through the trigger guard. The pop-pop-pop continued until the handgun emptied.

Satisfied with the results, the bouncers dragged the two men to the ground and began a body search. Looking for more guns or knives. Task completed, the duo were promptly dragged down the hall to the back door. Boomer and company didn't return.

—Holy shit, Maddie. Did you see that?

Emma had made her way across the room to the twin table setup.

—I not only saw it, I heard it too. It doesn't look like anyone was hit.

—Yeah, no, I wouldn't want to be that pair in the parking lot. Boomer still isn't back.

—Hey, are those guys good? I was on track to wriggling my way over to offer a dance in a private room. Is one of them having a birthday?

Emma shook her head.

—No way. It's a divorce they're celebrating. But they're good tippers. Kinda handy, though. I'm glad I'm wearing my fortified leggings.

Maddie laughed.

—Are you kidding me? You're kidding, right?

She thought a minute.

—What do you mean, fortified?

—It's the panty part. It's fortified. Fortified as in hands and fingers slip right off because there's nothing for them to catch on. I learned my lesson the first night.

—Wow. Tough waitressing crowd in this place.

—You know it. Now I have to get back to waiting tables. I'm planning on this gig making me enough cash to buy a used car.

Maddie waved her off and made for the table. Raucous yelling and applause greeted her. She grinned as wide as she could.

—What's all this noise about, boys? What are we celebrating tonight?

The response was raucous and the chant was loud.

—D.I.V.O.R.C.E.

Maddie's attention traveled to the front entrance to the club. Boomer and two bouncers were finally returning. It couldn't be good for whatever and whoever kept them out back for so long.

20.

**IT WAS PAST CLOSING TIME.** Emma was nowhere in sight. The last Maddie had seen her, she was at the bar, deep in animated conversation with Ronnie. No doubt Emma was busy trying to convince the man to take her to the house again. She must have been successful, because the pair had disappeared.

Maddie's entire body screamed. Arms and legs trembled uncontrollably with exhaustion. Her stomach heaved and spasmed. She didn't bother to take the time to dress in her street clothes. If it wasn't for the case—

She took a seat at a table next to the bar with the rest of the dancers. It was a nightly ritual for them once the club had been cleared of customers. Most stayed for one drink before wandering off to boyfriend or husband or something not so permanent.

—Has anyone seen Emma?

The crowd around the table murmured and shook their heads. Now she was concerned. She thought again about Emma saying she was going to convince Ronnie to take her to the credit card house. If that was what happened—

Maddie said her goodbyes and almost groaned as she stood up. The others laughed at her misfortune.

—Buck up, girl. Tomorrow night we'll get you in the shower.

Everyone was laughing at her antics now.

—Is the hot water tap hooked up? I'll pay to use it if it is.

—Not a chance, girl. You know that.

Maddie shook her head.

—Then it'll be a cold day you know where before I step into that mold factory.

—We hear that. Good night. See you tomorrow.

She hiked her bag over her shoulder, groaned aloud this time, and walked away. Her steps were slow and careful until she made the parking lot and the Packard. She tossed her bag into the trunk before retrieving her five-shot and tucking it into the back of her g-string. It almost slipped out and she hooked the clip, pulling her robe over it.

Ready or not, here I come, boys and girl. Packard, don't fail me now. The car had been taking two or three tries to start, but it fired up first try. Grinning happily, she shifted into drive and squealed tires in her eagerness to get out of the parking lot in search of Emma.

On the way she allowed her mind to wander to thoughts of Jim. Where the hell was that man? Why hadn't he called? He should have been home by now. Exasperated by it all, she shook her head and parked a block away from the credit card scamming house.

21.

**MADDIE CONSIDERED HEADING ACROSS TOWN** to retrieve Friday from the Boyle house, and then, considering the hour, decided against the disruption. There would be too many questions—not so much from Nancy—but from Boyle himself. And he'd want to know where Jim was, too. She didn't have any answers for him, and he'd probably talk her out of what she was planning on doing if he found out.

So what was her plan, then? The five-shot dug into her back and she twisted in the seat to adjust it's position hanging from her g-string. She couldn't just barge into the house. She had no idea how many people would be in the place to greet her.

Was Emma even there? Maybe she and Ronnie had found a common ground and were making out somewhere. But how likely was that? She knew Emma was smarter than that. But she mentioned she wanted to make enough money to buy a car. Maybe she was keeping Ronnie busy with thoughts of that.

So what if Emma wasn't in the house? What would her excuse be for showing up with a five-shot and a stack of ones tucked into her g-string? She looked down. She'd forgotten to put them in the trunk.

What the hell kind of detective would do that? Her kind, obviously. Jim would shake his head and give her a hard time when she told him the story. If she told him. And where was the son of a gun, anyway. He should be her with her instead of Emma.

She reached back to adjust the position of the five-shot again. She was almost at the house. She pulled the huge Packard over and parked a block away between two street lights. Pulled out the handgun. Flipped the cylinder. There was no reason to look. She kept it loaded all the time.

Maddie tucked the pistol into its holster at the back of her g-string, shoved the heavy car door open, and made for the house.

22.

**A BREEZE CAUGHT HER** strip-club nightgown. It flared against a hedge and caught, bringing her to a sudden halt. Annoyed, she tugged at it until it gave with a ripping sound. Screw it, she thought, I'm here now. She considered for only a moment what Jim would do in her shoes. She giggled, picturing him in the Lucite shoes she wasn't wearing.

Recon. He'd do a recon. She cursed out loud for not being smart enough to change out of her strip club garb. Then she remembered her sneakers in the back of the Packard. She backtracked, pulled them from the trunk, and tied them. She considered changing—she had her bag, after all, but then thought of the image that would present if anyone happened to look out a window.

She hurried to scout the house. Reached back for the comfort of the five-shot in its holster. Her g-string sagged with the weight it wasn't designed to take.

The house appeared older than what Emma described. Wartime, maybe, remembering the expression. She looked around at the rest of them in the neighborhood. Definitely wartime. Or mid-fifties, maybe late fifties. Square-shaped. They were all two stories with basements. The lights were on on all floors in the house in question. Upstairs. Downstairs. Even the basement's small windows leaked pale light.

She moved closer. Went around the side. In the back yard two men talked. She heard them. Didn't see them. Probably smoking. She peered through a basement window. Saw Emma. What the—

She looked again. Her breath caught.

She tapped the window in an attempt to get the woman's attention. Nothing. She tapped again, harder and louder. Emma looked around. Scanned up. She was taped to a chair. Arms and legs. Tape over her mouth, too. She tapped and made a sign that she hoped told Emma she was going to another window. Her friend nodded recognition.

Maddie made her way to the opposite side of the house. In the dark she tripped over a basement entrance, the kind that opened to steps. It was locked. A second window revealed a chute of some kind. What the hell—

A chute. For what? Coal? It was a coal chute. She remembered reading about coal furnaces in some magazine article. Or maybe it was a book. That made the house really old, because she knew most of them had been converted to oil at the very least. And probably natural gas or electric by now.

She tugged at the door to the chute. It creaked and gave only an inch, if that. She tugged again. Gave up. Slinked off to the Packard to retrieve the tire iron in the trunk and her phone. She tucked the phone into the front of her g-string. It wasn't comfortable, but it freed up both hands for the tire iron.

It took a lot of work with the tire iron turned crowbar. Wood creaked. The bar slipped. Banged a thumb. She cursed silently. Finally the door creaked against ancient hinges and surrendered by opening wide.

She suppressed the coughing through a cloud of dust. Remembered to hang onto the door so it didn't crash loud enough to alert anyone in the house. She dropped the crowbar and reached into the front of the g-string for her phone.

23.

**MADDIE MADE A QUICK CALL** to Boyle's personal number. He didn't pick up. Men. There was never one around when a woman needed one. She'd be on her own. Frustrated, she left a voicemail before hanging up and then tucked the phone back into the front of her g-string. She yanked it back out when she realized she needed it.

She turned on the flashlight and aimed it into the hole. It illumined a ramp of some kind, reflecting light. Covered in, what, tin? Steel? Whatever it was, it was shiny. She tested it with a finger. And dusty. A wooden rail of some kind on each side. Probably to direct the coal into the basement.

She reached back for the five-shot. It was there, comforting, hanging from her g-string. She directed the light into the hole one more time. Followed up with her head, looking. Instantly decided there was no way in hell she'd be sliding down that on her bare rear end. She withdrew and reconsidered. The sound of a car approaching caused her to halt all motion. She froze, and for a split second she was caught like a deer in headlights before the car turned off into a nearby driveway.

It was now or never.

Maddie turned around. Got down on hands and knees. Backed into the hole with legs extended. She dangled them over the chute. Wriggled herself down like a snake. Let her hands close on the wooden side rails. Wriggled some more. Ancient dust assailed her nostrils. Almost sneezed. Somehow caught herself and managed to choke the sneeze into an almost silent cough.

The descent seemed to take her forever. She inhaled more dust. Choked back coughs. Wheezed her way down. Finally her feet touched on solid ground. She allowed her body to slide the rest of the way, only halting when she ended up in a crouch.

—Emma? Are you here?

She hesitated, listening.

—Emma? Dammit.

Louder this time.

—Talk to me.

Then she remembered. Emma's mouth was taped. She made her way to the room. Found Emma. Ripped the tape off her mouth. Her friend swallowed hard and gasped for fresh air. She unraveled the duct tape from Emma's wrists and ankles, freeing her from the armchair.

—Am I glad to see you, Kandi. Nice outfit, by the way.

—That's Kandi Kane to you. Do you remember how I used to tell you that Jim threatened to spank me on more than one occasion when I wandered off and did things on my own?

Emma looked at her friend and grinned.

—So then, I guess he'll be putting both of us over his knees and spanking his heart out when he hears about this, won't he?

Maddie regarded the woman before answering.

—What do you mean, when he hears about it? I won't be telling him. Will you?

Emma looked at the mess of a woman standing in front of her. Glitter winked and reflected the dim overhead light. Coal dust streaked Maddie's legs and arms and stomach. The torn robe hung listless in the light. Maddie caught her looking.

—Yeah, don't be so quick to judge, girl. Your beer-slinging waitress ass isn't looking so hot in this light either. Not to mention torn stockings, a black eye, and a trace of blood on the front of your white waitress blouse.

They grinned back and forth, friend to friend, notwithstanding the plight they found themselves in.

—Now come on. Get your beer-slinging waitress ass in gear and mosey on out of here. I'll bring up the rear.

—You want me to climb up that coal chute? We used to have one in our house back home. Dad boarded it up.

—Well, if you have a better idea, you better spill. In the meantime—

A door creaked somewhere in the house, reminding both of them of the immediate danger they were in.

—Get it moving, girl. We don't have time for any more idle chit-chat.

24.

**MADDIE TRIED TO KEEP HER VOICE LOW,** but in her haste to crawl up the coal chute she was stymied by the metal chute her body had polished on the way down.

—Push, woman. Dammit, push harder.

Emma repositioned and settled on the chute. Her arms ached. She was on tiptoes, pushing, trying to help Maddie climb up the chute. Her feet slipped on the dirty basement floor and she slid down. Somehow, Maddie managed to grip the door sill. She was hanging on for dear life.

—One more time. I need just a bit more.

Emma regrouped, settled on the coal chute, and grabbed Maddie's flailing feet. She steadied them, made a final shove, and the feet pulled away.

Maddie steadied herself before crawling out of the opening. Her hands and knees settled on cool grass. She turned around and stuck her head in the hole.

—All right. Your turn.

She leaned into the small doorway. Groaned from the exertion, her muscles aching more than when she worked the pole. Reached a little more as she stretched as far as she could. Fingers made contact. Hands grasped wrists slippery with sweat and dust.

—Come on, girl. Get the lead out.

Maddie groaned again. Braced her feet against the cement wall. Emma slowly slid up the chute. Her head appeared. Maddie slipped on the grass and landed on her backside. She managed to hang onto Emma. It was enough to yank her all the way out of the basement.

—Listen. Hear that?

—Sirens. Boyd must have got my message. Come on. We need to get out of here. We'll never hear the end of it if we get scooped up just for being here.

The pair made it to the sidewalk in front of the house. Moments later, flashing blues and headlights illuminated the street all around them. Tires screeched on asphalt as cars halted. A huge dark van pulled up. Men in protective gear with weapons at the ready exited and began surrounding the house. Maddie and Emma double-timed it to the opposite side of the street where they were confronted by two SWAT officers

—Both of you need to halt right now.

The officers approached as the women raised their hands over their heads. One bent to frisk them. A female voice called out.

—Gun! Down on your knees. Do it now!

Maddie and Emma complied instantly. The cop flicked the five-shot in its holster off of her g-string. It gave up the holster and returned to where it had been with a resounding snap against her backside.

—You two can stand up now. What are you doing out here at this time of night.

—We were out for a walk enjoying the evening air, officer. You can't fault a girl for that, can you?

The two police officers appraised the women with doubtful looks. The female cop who had removed Maddie's pistol held it up.

—You got a permit for this, sister?

Maddi tugged at her g-string beneath the sheer robe.

—At the moment, no. Not on me.

She let go of the elastic and it snapped back with a resounding slap. She almost winced. In the dark, a man approached, holding up what looked to be a badge.

—Shit, Emma. It's Boyd.

Emma regarded her friend.

—That's good, right? It has to be good.

—Well ya. But he'll probably spill the beans to Jim. If the son of a gun ever gets home.

Boyd approached and the officers nodded their recognition. He left his badge to hang on its chain around his neck.

—I was in the neighborhood when I heard the call. I can take these two off your hands for now while you get back to the action.

—That's all right with us, sir.

Boyd took the women by their arms and led them away.

—Where's the car? I didn't see it driving up.

Maddie gestured with her arm.

—Over that way.

She waited for the lecture. It hadn't come by the time they reached the car.

—Nice outfit. How's that pole-dancing class coming along that Nancy keeps telling me about?

—It's going great. Tonight was costume night.

She elbowed Emma at her side. She was busy trying to keep a straight face after she caught Boyle's eye roll.

—You'd better get out of here while the getting is good.

Boyle handed back Maddie's five-shot.

—You'll probably have to bring in your permit, but don't sweat it.

—Actually, it's right here.

She raised her voice.

—Would you like to see it, officer?

Maddie popped the trunk, rummaged through her bag, and produced the document before handing it over. Boyle handed it right back.

—Thank you, officer. I appreciate that you were able to help us.

Boyle shook his head.

—Get your rear ends out of here right now.

Maddie and Emma obliged by climbing into the Packard.

—Oh, one more thing, ladies.

—Shit, Emma. We're in for it now.

Boyle leaned into the car.

—Thanks for the tip.

He tapped the roof. Maddie stomped on the gas pedal and peeled rubber in her haste to get away.

25.

**MADDIE DIDN'T NEED TO BE TOLD** twice.

—We're going home. I need a shower really bad. So do you, in case you haven't noticed.

She wrestled the heavy car into traffic. She still wasn't accustomed to the huge steering wheel. Jim had added modern power steering and disc brakes, but she hadn't driven it enough to be accustomed to it.

—I'm going over to Nancy's to pick up Friday. Hopefully Boyle won't be home when we get there, because he's going to have questions I don't want to answer. Yet.

She handed the phone to Emma and asked her to call Nancy to warn her they were on their way. She greeted the disheveled pair at the door before the doorbell even rang.

—Well. I see the pole dancing class is working wonders. Hi Emma. I'm so pleased to finally meet you.

—Me too. I've heard a lot about you from Maddie.

—Friday is upstairs in Tricia's room.

Friday's ears perked up as he recognized his mistress's voice. He sat up from his bed beside Tricia's. He nuzzled the girl, fast asleep in her own bed. The little girl sat up and rubbed her eyes.

—What is it, Friday? Burglars?

The dog tugged at the covers and pulled them down. Tricia hopped out of bed and grabbed Friday's collar.

—We better go see.

Friday allowed the girl to lead him down the stairs until he saw Maddie. He leaped ahead. Tricia screamed.

—Aunt Maddie!

Dog and open-armed girl scrambled past Nancy and made a beeline for the woman. Nancy feigned indignation.

—Well. I guess I know who gets all the hugs around here now.

Once the fuss died down, the women followed Nancy into the kitchen. She had hot coffee brewed in minutes in the automated machine. Maddie and Emma sipped and tested before talking.

—Mmm good. What is it?

—Sumatra. We like it. I'll get Don to take a box over to the office.

Maddie looked across at Emma before addressing Nancy.

—Well, I don't know if we want to see him so soon after tonight's episode. Let me explain how it went down.

Nancy Boyle wasn't able to ignore the costumes on the two women any longer. Both were disheveled and filthy. She listened carefully before responding.

—Don't worry one bit about it, you two. If I hear anything via the grapevine, I'll be sure to let you know.

She rolled her eyes, letting them know she meant Don, her husband and close friend of Jim, Maddie's partner, too.

—Speaking of which, Jim hasn't talked to Don, has he? I'm really worried. It's been four days. Or five. I can't count any more I'm so upset.

—I'm sorry. No. If he does, you'll be the first to know. And don't worry about Don. I'll handle him.

The women said their goodbyes. Tricia waved at Friday until the car disappeared from sight. Friday, happy knowing he would no longer be subject to endless tea parties in Tricia's bedroom, nudged the back of Maddie's neck with a cold, wet nose. When his mistress chastised him, he moved over and did the same to Emma. She only giggled, and he did it again before settling on the back seat.

26.

**MADDIE WRESTLED THE STEERING WHEEL** to work the Packard into the empty parking spot in front of the office building. Both she and Emma were exhausted from their early-morning escapade in the card-skimming house. Maddie groaned as she bent to open the trunk to retrieve her bag.

—I need a shower so bad I don't think one will do it.

—In that case leave me at least a few minutes of hot, will you?

The women trudged upstairs follow by a happy Friday. His tail didn't stop wagging until he got to the second floor, where he headed through the office's open door and jumped up onto Jim's empty chair. Emma joined him and sat on the desk. The sun was starting to come up, peeking over the buildings and illuminating the storefronts on the opposite side of the street.

She scratched absentmindedly at Friday's ear and ruffled the fur on his neck. The dog whined.

—I know, Friday. You miss him too. So does Maddie.

She eased off the desk and looked down onto the street. A gray van chose that instant to smack into the back of the Packard. One side of the van's front bumper clattered to the pavement.

Shit. Maddie was going to be pissed.

A woman got out of the driver's side and walked around the front of the van to the sliding door. She wrestled with the handle, fighting to get it open. She won and the door slid open to crash against its stops. Even one story up it sounded as though it was ready to fall off.

The woman stepped into the van and emerged seconds later with a second person. A man by the look of it. He had an arm draped over her shoulder. An arm circled the man's waist. She was barely holding him up. Emma screamed.

—Maddie!

Startled, Friday jumped down from Jim's chair. It spun in a circle and halted. Emma screamed for Maddie a second time.

—Get your ass down here. Maddie!

Friday barked when Maddie crashed through the doorway.

—What is it? What's wrong?

—Jim. It's Jim. He's home.

Maddie scrambled down the stairs hot on the heels of Friday. They reached the door at the same instant. She pushed through and met Jim. He wasn't looking so good. And he was with a woman who was barely managing to hold the huge man up.

Friday ran up to the pair. He sniffed. He snorted. He growled. The woman holding Jim hesitated, looking scared and concerned for her safely. Maddie called out.

—Friday! Heel.

Reluctantly the dog obeyed, but he didn't sit. He remained standing. His eyes stayed on the girl holding Jim. The pair struggled to take a step and stumbled. Friday growled. Took a step towards the couple.

—Friday. Stay. Sit.

Maddie motioned to the dog. He returned to her side and sat down. Emma arrived on the sidewalk behind them. She spotted Jim's bloody clothes.

—Sit the man down. If he falls you won't be able to catch him. Maddie. Call 911. Don't tell them it's a gunshot wound. The cops will be here too fast for us to make sense of this.

Maddie did as she was told. Emma went into paramedic mode. She helped the woman ease Jim down on the sidewalk. Lifted the shirt to examine him.

—Help me turn him on his side.

Pulled up his shirt. Saw she was right. A gunshot wound. Through and through.

—You've been taking care of him? For how long.

The girl looked panicked.

—We've been driving for days. He wouldn't let me take him to a hospital. I bought bandages and alcohol as we went. He told me he'd put me over his knee and spank me if I disobeyed.

—Yeah he's like that sometimes. You did good. The wound is infected, but not as bad as it could be. You did good.

Sirens approached and an ambulance pulled up beside the van. A stretcher came out and someone recognized Emma.

—What have you got?

—Gunshot. Through and through. Infected. Could be worse but for this woman. Don't call the cops until you get to the hospital, okay? Personal favor?

They nodded and went to work. Maddie called to Emma.

—If I get into that ambulance with Jim, Friday is going to get in too. If anyone tries to stop him, meaning you or those attendants, it's going to be a fight no one will win. Will you go with Jim? I think you better take the girl, too. She looks dead on her feet.

The girl screamed past the closing ambulance door.

—The bags! The suitcases. Get the suitcases.

27.

**MADDIE STRUGGLED TO GET** the heavy bags upstairs. She hauled one at a time up the first flight of stairs to the office. She cursed the entire time. Why did they have so many bags when there was only two of them? When Jim left he'd taken an overnight bag. And why were they so heavy? She swiped at perspiration running down her forehead.

She tried opening one of the bags. It was locked. She sat down to rest, regained her breath, and didn't bother to change. She locked the office door behind her and rushed downstairs to the Packard. Friday scurried after her and jumped in on the driver side.

—Sorry Friday. I'm all messed up with Jim.

She cranked the wheel and floored the accelerator. The Packard shot out of the parking spot into traffic. The van's bumper crashed to the asphalt behind her. Horns honked. She didn't care. She was too busy dodging early morning traffic on her way to the hospital.

Gunshot. Jim was shot. Where had he been that he'd gotten shot? And who was the girl? Had she driven him across all the way from Mexico? Mexico? Where in Mexico? And what the hell was the man doing in Mexico, anyway? Damn him. Damn him to hell and back.

And by the look of it, the man had definitely been to hell and back.

She screeched into the hospital parking lot. Slammed on the brakes to halt for a ticket and waited impatiently for the arm to go up. She was forced to park a five-minute walk from the entrance. She called to the dog in the back and held the door open.

—Come Friday. Stay with me.

She opened the trunk and retrieved her shoulder bag and her I.D. before remembering to slam it shut. She looked down. Bare feet. Dirty bare feet. She went back and rummaged in her bag for shoes and stumbled against the trunk in her haste to get them on.

—All right. Come on. Let's go.

Friday kept pace with his mistress as she hurried towards the hospital entrance and the admissions desk. The woman behind the desk looked up. Her eyes widened as she took in Maddie dressed in her stripper costume. The went even wider when she spotted the black dog.

—You can't bring a dog—

—Watch me. Jim Nash. He just got here by ambulance. Where is he? What floor? Is he in surgery? Has he been admitted yet?

She spotted Emma walking towards her and deserted the desk to meet her.

—Where is he?

—They took him right up to surgery. Come with me.

Emma led Maddie to the elevator. Friday dutifully trotted along between the two women.

—Were you able to find out anything about the woman with Jim? Who is she?

—I don't know, Maddie. I was busy helping to get him admitted. He's running a really high temperature. Probably from an infection. The girl did a good job considering it took days of straight driving to get him here.

They stepped out of the elevator on the surgical floor and approached the desk.

—Jim Nash. Where is he?

The nurse tapped a keyboard and consulted the monitor.

—He's in surgery but we have a room ready for him. He'll be sharing it with his daughter.

—His daughter?

Emma clamped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. The cat was out of the bag. Maddie attempted a more calm approach.

—His daughter? Yes. Of course. What room?

—Are you family?

—Yes. More family. He has a lot of family, apparently.

Emma dug an elbow into Maddie's side.

—The girl is suffering from exhaustion. We gave her a sedative to help her sleep. She was awfully concerned about her father as you can imagine. You can wait in that room over there.

Maddie smiled sweetly.

—Yes. Thank you.

She turned to Emma.

—I am going to kill that man—

—By the look of it, you're going to have to get in line. He's already been shot once. Who knows what else. Now come with me and settle down. You too, Friday. Come. Good boy.

Emma patted her thigh and the dog pranced after her. She looked at Maddie and patted her thigh again.

—You too, girl.

—Very funny. Between you and your father and my dog—

—Yes yes. Now settle down. There's nothing we can do but wait.

Emma wandered off and returned with coffee and a paper soup bowl filled with water. Friday slurped it up and wagged his tail furiously. He had the full attention of two humans. His master was back. He was happy. He moved to sit in the doorway. From there was able to keep a wary eye on his mistress as she paraded back and forth in some kind of costume.

Maddie wasn't ready to wait quietly or patiently in her present state of mind. She tossed her bag in the room and walked back into the hall to pace up and down, mumbling to herself the entire time. Her robe caught air, flared, and trailed behind, momentarily revealing the five-shot still tucked into its holster hanging from the back of her g-string.

28.

**A VERY GROGGY JIM NASH** was wheeled past Maddie and Emma in the waiting room. Maddie called out to the nurse bringing up the rear, wanting to know where he was going.

—We're putting him in the room with his daughter. Who're you again?

Emma moved to hold Maddie back, barely catching her by an arm.

—Don't screw this up, Maddie. Be nice.

—I'm his partner, miss.

She smiled warmly, not meaning it in the slightest.

—Emma. Who the hell is that girl?

—I think you're going to have to talk to her to find that out. Imagine that. Now let's go.

The pair waited outside the room while Jim's bed was adjusted and he was plugged in to the monitors. On the other side of the room the girl, supposedly his daughter, woke up during the commotion. When it ended, Maddie and Emma led by Friday strode into the room.

Emma hung back while Maddie and Friday approached Jim's bed. She regarded the girl in the other bed as she caught sight of Maddie's holstered revolver. Her eyes widened and she looked away.

—Why is is face all cut up?

—He wanted me to shave him before he got home. The only razor I had was the one I use to shave my legs.

Maddie let out a nervous giggle.

—That man is always verbally abusing me for using his razor. I'm glad I'm not the only one.

She approached the woman's bed and held out her hand.

—I'm Maddie Spence. Thank you for bringing Jim home.

—Anya Quinn. I'm pleased to meet you. I've heard a lot about you.

Maddie regarded the girl. She appeared agitated. She looked at Emma and then down at the dog and back to Maddie.

—I need to tell you something. Something important.

—What is it.

—It's about the van. Can I trust you?

Maddie looked across at Emma.

—You can trust all three of us. What is it?

—The van has stolen plates. Someone has been following us ever since we crossed the border. I don't know if it's one person or more. But he's been on our tail since Tecate.

—Tecate?

—Mexico. Did you get the bags out of the van? Are they safe?

Mexico. So that's where Jim had been all this time. Damn the man. Why didn't he tell her? She motioned for Emma to approach.

—You too, Friday. Come. Yes. I hauled them inside myself. Where are the keys?

—In the closet in my pocket.

Emma went to retrieve them.

—What else is in the van? Any firearms? Drugs? Anything?

—I dumped the gun. No drugs. But you probably shouldn't leave that van in front of your place.

—All right. It will get moved.

Emma moved to the door, ready to leave. Already part way through it.

—Wait, Emma. The keys to the Packard are in my bag. Friday, come.

The dog sat at Maddie's feet, all ears and tail wagging furiously. She waved her hand in front of his face. His ears perked. His tail stopped wagging instantly.

—Friday. Go with Emma. Guard Emma. Friday. Guard Emma.

Friday stood at attention and woofed before approaching Emma, already through the door. Maddie went to observe the pair. The dog trotted at Emma's side, down the hall to the elevators, where they disappeared from sight.

29.

**EMMA FORCED THE PACKARD'S** heavy door open and waited for Friday to jump in. He scrambled to the other side of the front seat as she climbed in behind him. She grabbed the ticket from the dash and held it in her teeth as she maneuvered the huge, unfamiliar car through the parking lot and down to the gate. Tires squealed in the corners as the Packard dipped and weaved every time she hit the brakes. Friday scrambled to stay steady on the seat beside her.

—Friday. Floor.

He obeyed instantly and she called out a _Good boy_ before returning her concentration to getting the car aimed where she wanted it to take them. Traffic was heavy on the crowded thoroughfares and streets. She dodged in and out and around, getting the hang of the steering. That she wasn't yet familiar with the streets made it difficult to make time. She ended up confused and lost briefly before locating the main drag to the office.

—All right, Friday. We're here.

She wrestled the Packard into the spot in front of the van. She got out and waited for Friday to come up from the floor for air. He looked at her quizzically and she laughed.

—I know. I'm sorry. I'll do better next time, okay?

He woofed and bounded out of the car. He remained at Emma's side as she walked around to the back of the van.

—Holy shit. Look at this.

She rubbed across a spot on one of the rear doors. It went from smooth to rough. She scratched across the tape with her fingernails and caught the edge of the tape.

She peeled off a square of gray tape to reveal a bullet hole in the van's rear door. She peeled more, revealing multiple holes. Some went through on one side. Others were stopped by a heavy metal plate that went more than halfway up the driver-side rear door.

—Well well. Jim and Anya have been very busy.

Friday growled a warning too late. A man ran up behind Emma and pushed her past the open door into the back of the van. She stumbled and fell to her knees. Over-compensating for his lack, Friday growled another warning and jumped. His teeth closed on the arm holding a handgun. It exploded and a bullet plowed into the steel protecting the front seats. The bullet echoed with a loud ping.

Deafened by the explosion, Emma turned to confront her attacker. Friday brought him to the ground. He tugged furiously at the man's arm. Blood flowed from a deep bite as his teeth tore at the unprotected arm. The man twisted and tugged. Suddenly, his arm came free. The action forced him into traffic. He stumbled. Brakes squealed. A thump followed by another and Emma witnessed him on the pavement under a car. She called to the dog.

—Come Friday. It's time to go.

She spotted the handgun on the floor of the van. She picked it up and tucked it into the front of her skirt. It was then she realized she was still in her waitress getup of white blouse and dark skirt. Her black stockings were frayed with runs at both knees.

Friday jumped in the back and Emma closed the door before climbing into the driver's seat. She looked back at the dog. That was when she noticed the steel plate behind the front compartment.

—Wow. More of the same. What was Nash doing in Mexico that he needed a home-made armored car?

She jammed the key into the ignition and turned it. Nothing. Screaming sirens became louder. She twisted the key again. The van caught. She steered into the empty street blocked by the injured man beneath the car behind her.

She pulled into the first gas station she spotted. She ran inside, searching for gas cans. Found none. Asked where she could get them before spotting the hardware store across the street. She steered the van into the huge lot and parked.

—I'll be right back, Friday.

The dog was having none of it. He scrambled out behind her and paced her all the way to the store before she remembered the handgun in her front. She raced back to the van, tucked in beneath the seat, and returned to the store, flanked by Friday the entire way.

In the store he busied himself following Emma in her search for the red containers. She found them. Grabbed two. Headed for the checkout. Loaded them into the van and backtracked across the street to fill the five gallon containers. She hoped it would be enough. At the till she picked up a lighter.

—Now. Where to? Where can we ditch this thing, Friday?

Friday remained silent. He didn't seem to know either. Emma shook her head. She was talking to a dog, even if it was Friday.

30.

**EMMA AIMED THE VAN WEST** by following the green highway signs directing her to Tampa. She passed a sketchy looking warehouse compound and burned a u-turn to get through the open gate. She drove around, aimlessly circling projects. All of them appeared deserted. No semis. No trucks. No delivery vans. She parked. Wanted to be certain. Honked the horn. Waited some more. Satisfied, she exited the van. Friday followed close behind.

Satisfied she was in the clear, she took out the gas cans. Emptied one in the front. Tipped the other on its side in the back. She remembered the handgun beneath the seat. Retrieved it. And cursed out loud.

She had nothing to light the van on fire. She tugged at a floor mat, willing it to budge. It didn't. She looked around the empty parking lot. There was nothing. Frustrated, she cursed again before kicking off her shoes. She rolled down both stockings and tied them in a knot.

—Necessity is the mother of invention, Friday, now come with me.

She led the dog away from the van and commanded him to sit and stay. Reluctantly, he obeyed, but not before barking as loud as he could to let Emma know he didn't think it was right.

—Don't panic, Friday. I'll be right back.

She approached the van. Flicked the lighter. Held the knotted stockings over the flame. They ignited with a flash. She tossed them into the open back of the van, closed the door and ran in Friday's direction as fast as she could.

Woman and dog were at least a hundred feet from the van when it lit up in an explosion of orange flame. It lifted off its wheels into the air and crashed down with a solid thump. Doors popped open. Glass exploded in the heat. Emma didn't stop or slow to look over her shoulder. She increased her pace, and Friday increased his to stay with her.

Neither woman nor dog noticed the man with a phone filming from the roof of a building. He was just far enough away that anyone looking at the video would only recognize a woman in black and white being chased by a dog.

Both were running as fast as their legs would carry them.

31.

**EMMA TUCKED THE HANDGUN** into the front of her skirt before hitching it up to expose just a bit more thigh. Her first thumb captured a ten-wheel cement truck. It labored to a groaning stop on the side of the road. The driver waited before reaching across to open the door. Friday greeted him with a sloppy woof and settled between passenger and driver.

Emma got lucky when the driver told her he was headed to the outskirts of the city. She got even luckier when he was able to let her out at a bus stop.

The exhausted pair eventually made their way to the office and the waiting Packard. She examined the street in front of the office. It looked none the worse for wear after the accident and the dead man. She made for the hospital parking lot and Jim's room.

Maddie was deep in conversation with Anya. Jim appeared to be sleeping.

—How's he doing?

—He's got an infection so they pumped him full of antibiotics. He'll be sleeping for a while. Anya just woke up a short while ago. She's exhausted after driving all the way across on the 10. I smell gasoline.

—Yes, well, the deed is done.

Maddie went to Jim's side and leaned over to listen to his breathing. The five-shot tucked into the g-string revealed itself to Anya. She looked up at Emma. The butt of the handgun she had retrieved from the van peeked out from beneath Emma's blouse. The girl's eyes went wide a second time. Her mouth formed a silent O.

Emma looked down. Removed the handgun from beneath her blouse. Tucked it into the back of her skirt.

—Who are you people?

Maddie straightened in time to witness Anya's shocked expression. She met Emma's gaze before the two women turned to the girl.

—We're your friends.

—Yes, Anya. Make no mistake. We're your friends.

32.

**JIM GROANED AND OPENED HIS EYES.** Weak and drowsy from the strong antibiotics coursing through his veins and body, he struggled to sit up. Maddie bent to kiss his cheek and immediately regretted it as she remembered her costume and the state it was in. Jim's eyes widened, mesmerized by the sight of her.

—What's with all the glitter? And that outfit?

Maddie hesitated and mumbled something incomprehensible. She needed time to think.

—Oh this?

She looked down at the strip club costume and frowned.

—It was costume night at my pole dancing class.

As if to back her up, Friday woofed and gave Jim's fingers a sloppy lick.

—Good dog, Friday. I'm glad to see you here, too. What day is it? I thought your dance class was on Tuesday.

—Oh, it was canceled. I went last night.

Jim's eyes traveled to Emma. He couldn't avoid taking in the disheveled clothes and black stains on her blouse and legs. Emma gave a tentative wave, calling out a _Hello, stranger_ and a welcome home.

—Thanks. What's your excuse, woman?

His eyes fluttered and he settled back on the bed. Emma excused herself and rushed from the room. She returned minutes later with a wheel chair.

—Come on, Anya. We all need to chat.

Hearing the girl's name, Jim perked up.

—Is she all right? She did a great job on patching me up and keeping me together. She kept her shit together, too.

He shifted on the bed and groaned before looking across the room at the girl.

—Thanks for bringing me home. Wait. Where are you taking her? Don't tell them all my secrets, Anya.

—Don't worry. Your daughter is safe with us.

—My daughter? No, no. She's—

He was too weak to protest further. Maddie commanded Friday to stay with Jim. The dog settled in beside him and nudged his fingers with a cold, wet nose. Friday was happy to have his master back and was looking forward to more snoozes with him downstairs in the office.

Two pairs of hands wheeled Anya into the hallway and onto the elevator as the women made their way to the hospital's restaurant.

—You better fill us in, Anya. Jim is pumped too full of antibiotics to make sense.

###
Read order for Jim Nash stories

Pirate Cay

Thrill Kill Jill

Greetings from Key West

Lost Paradise

No Angels

Mexico Gamble

No Picnic

Fallen Angels

Vendetta

A Girl's Best Friend

Dead End

No Harbor

Dog Days

Startup Blues

Last Stop To Nowhere / End of Nowhere

Revenge Is Justice

Escape

Wedding Bell Blues

Breakdown

Little Girl Lost

Forget Me Not

All the Glitter

Mexico Time

**SEASONAL**

Trick or Treat

Helping Santa

**OTHER**

The Snap Brim Fedora Caper

More by P X Duke

**Twisted Sisters**

Detective Jim Nash has a problem. He has a murder victim in an alley and a dead woman in his bed. His own homicide division wants to charge him with murder. To say he's got serious commitment problems would be an understatement. He's on the lookout for twins, but he doesn't want to date them. He wants to know who murdered them. A modern pulp short story.

**Dreams Die Fast**

Frank is headed home after spending a long winter on the Baja. When his motorcycle breaks down, he's trapped in an old ghost town on the west side of the Salton Sea. A woman takes pity on Frank and invites him over for a home-cooked meal. Before he knows it, Frank is knee-deep in cartel drugs with a woman itching to pull the trigger on the gun she's pointing at his back.

**Dreams Die Hard**

Frank is back on the road with a reformed junkie on the run from a cartel hit squad riding bitch on the back of his motorcycle. When the duo end up working at a strip club, the seedy edge of the city finally catches up, forcing Frank to dig deep within to triumph over drugs, greed, arson and murder. Some adult content.

**Fast Food Slow Waitress**

A biker hits all the high spots (or the low spots, depending on your point of view). These short stories find him at a peeler bar off the 15 in Montana; encountering a hitch-hiker off the 10 in New Mexico; being sweet-talked by his landlady; romancing a truck-driving sweetheart in a sleeper at a California truck stop; flirting with a waitress in a restaurant in the high desert. This is an updated and revised version of First Time and other stories previously published.

**Dead Reckoning**

During a well-deserved R&R on mainland Mexico, Harry picks up something he doesn't own that forces him to flee across the Sea of Cortez to the Baja. While hiding out on an isolated beach, two mysterious gringas show up to complicate Harry's life by attempting to implicate him in their own scheme, resulting in a mad dash up the Baja to escape the consequences of their actions.

**Long Way Home**

When Harry's ex-wife, Sasha, and their daughter accompany her oil-company boyfriend on a working vacation to Africa, the trio goes missing. They get out a call for help that will lead Harry on an air and ground chase across the Horn of Africa to rescue his family before kidnappers can move them to their den on the Indian Ocean.

**Payback**

Harry's comfortable family life is turned upside down when he gets a phone call from a former comrade he thought long dead. When the second call comes in an hour later, the caller asks for his help. He knows his life will never be the same until he can learn what happened to the woman who launched a rescue mission to save his life after his plane was destroyed during a firefight on a bush landing strip in East Africa. Third short novel in a series.

About the author

Aviator. Motorcycle rider. Vagabond. Drifter. Trouble-maker. Jack of all trades and master of none. I've been riding and writing about the places I've been and the people I've seen for a few years now. Some of my writing is factual; some of it isn't. I like to leave it up to readers to decide for themselves which lies might be the truth.

https://pxduke.com | author@pxduke.com

