road we started on today. ”
Her
response was another kiss as her hand slipped smoothly under the front of my
blouse. I have no idea how the button was undone, but who cared right now. We
adjourned inside, and finished our day in bed, watching the sunset through my
picture window.
After Maya left at eight, I called Tom to see
how he was doing with his diet.
“Just checking in Tom, how’s it going this
weekend? Are you behaving yourself?”
“I hate this crap Abby, it really cramps my
style. I haven’t had one bad thing all weekend, and I’m going crazy. I even
exercised for two hours just to kill some time.”
“Keep up the good work Tom. You’ve got to
change your habits or Mother Nature will send you to early retirement, if you
get my drift?”
“Yeah, I got it Abby.”
There
was a long pause, and I wasn’t sure what would come next.
“Abby?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks for checking on me. I know you
don’t have to do this, but I do appreciate your concern.”
“That’s what partners are for.”
I went to bed dreaming of Maya. She had
been delicious as we both had our desert for the day.
Chapter 9
Monday started off with a call to the
florist. I sent roses with a card that said an admirer. We didn’t need to start
more rumors. I checked into the office and got Tom, and we headed for Tawnee’s
club. I knew it was early in the day, but I hoped after being on vacation she
might come in early. After Tom and I gave an update to the captain on our dead
body case, we drove downtown. On the way, we decided Tawnee might be more
receptive if Tom was not there. I dropped him off at Towne and Country, and let
him do his thing there while I talked with Tawnee.
I entered the dark club that was starting
to feel like my second home. The bouncer wasn’t there yet, so I walked up the
bartender and asked for Tawnee. He pointed to a black beaded curtain on the far
wall. I’d seen the other girls using it when they were coming on and leaving
the stage. I pushed the curtain aside and walked down the dimly lit hall to the
dressing room door, appropriately marked “D Room”. They must have saved a lot
not having to spell out the word dressing. There was a single bulb halfway down
that was lighting the narrow hallway.
I
walked into an almost deserted room, and saw a medium height blonde sitting at
a makeup table. I announced myself as I approached.
“Are you Tawnee?” I asked.
“You must be the detective that talked to
Charlie. Yeah, you got me. She left me a note about what you’re after. I almost
fainted when I read it. I haven’t thought about Sharon for a lot of years. What
can I do to help?”
“Were you two close?” I asked noticing the
twenty or thirty lipstick colors on her dressing table. I didn’t think
stripping required that much makeup.
“We were as close as you can get. We lived
together for a year just three blocks from here, during what turned out to be
the last year of her life.”
“Did Sharon have any regular men that she
went out with? Charlie talked about a limo that used to show up to get her
after work. Do you know anything about that?”
The
eyes changed from interest to avoidance in only a few seconds. She was glancing
to the side, not wanting to make eye contact.
“Tawnee, do you remember the limo?” I asked
again more firmly.
She
started to fidget with her makeup jars and liner. Not applying it but just
moving it around on the table in front of her.
“Yeah, I do, but I don’t know if I should
say anything. It could get me killed.”
“Was her boyfriend in the mob or what?”
“He was, but nobody could really prove it.”
Tawnee
looked around the room. We were the only ones in it. She turned to me, and
leaned closer to whisper her answer.
“It was Jack Tugliosi. He
Learning to Kill: Stories