You Don't Know Jack by Adrianne Lee Read Free Book Online

Marilyn hit the stairs leading to the stage, I spun on my heels and ducked through the door beyond Bruce's. Another dressing room, this one shared by several of the performers judging by the number of costumes and make-up stations.
    Luckily it was empty. Even better, the walls were paper thin, I discovered as I heard Bruce say, "Don't try to—"
    To what? To what? But that was all I got.
    I dug in my purse for the recorder, a high tech gizmo advertised to catch a hummingbird fart at 60 feet. I pressed it to the wall. Who was Bruce arguing with? What were they arguing about? I didn't hear another voice. Maybe he was on the phone.
    Damn. Why didn't this wall have a one-way mirror?
    But on closer examination, I realized it had something almost as good. Coat hooks. Or rather holes where coat hooks had been. Small round holes. Light was coming through the holes. I chose the most eye level one and moved in as close as I could get, given my boobs, and peered at the hole. I feared encountering an eye looking back. Instead, the double long false lashes Apollo insisted finished my outfit created an unexpected obstacle. It was like looking through a pin-striped veil.
    I needed X-ray vision.
    Or a hand drill.
    I pressed my ear to the wall, wanting to hear what the recorder was picking up.
    "You think. Knew. And. Damn."
    I froze. The other voice rivaled the deep timbre of a bass guitar. Stone. Oh, God. Panic flushed through me. First thought: run. Second thought: make up excuse for being here.
    Bump! I spun toward the wall to my back. Eyes wide. The pulse in my throat at a gallop. No one was in my room, but someone was in the room beyond this one. Two someones. I heard scuffling, then a grunt that sounded... sexual... or violent... or violently sexual.
    I grimaced. A moment before I'd been delighted to discover the walls were paper thin. Now, not so much. It was one thing to love sex and quite another to be a voyeur, especially an unwilling voyeur.
    The noises stopped abruptly. A door closed. I stole to the dressing room exit, and peered into the hallway just in time to see the outside door shutting, but not who had gone through it.
    This was too unnerving. The hell with it. I couldn't make out what Bruce and Stone were discussing. I could only hope the recorder had caught it. Nothing I'd signed with Lars obligated me to speak to Stone tonight. Or with Bruce. I'd put in the required appearance. Done the promised snooping. With luck the proof to satisfy Lars was on the recorder. If not, I'd follow Bruce in the daylight. Right now, I wanted to get Apollo and leave before I was discovered. Before Marilyn dragged me on stage.
    I hurried back into the club. Apollo was not on the dance floor. Not at our table. Not anywhere that I could see. I told myself not to panic. I hit speed dial on my cell. No answer. I sent a text. No response. Now I was panicking. Where could he be? The men's room? Of course. God, let him be in the men's room.
    I stopped at the restroom door, my pulse hip-hopping to the beat of the music. I have often thought my Cheatin' Hearts investigations give me the opportunity to observe men in their natural habitats. I have never thought an assignment would find me pretending to be a man — in an actual men's room — there to do what actual men actually did there.
    I braced and shoved inside. I'd been in a couple of men's rooms before, accidentally and not so accidentally, and the accouterments were pretty standard. A couple of sinks, a urinal or three, and some stalls. This one was more elegant. Smelled better, too.
    But here the women outnumbered the men.
    I recognized an almost Liza, an almost Barbra, and an almost Kathy Griffin, except...  Eek! They were heeding nature's call as no women before them had done. It isn't that I'm unfamiliar with full frontal male nudity. There are times when it's my favorite vision. At this moment, however, peeing seemed more intimate than sex.
    New rule: Keep your eyes on faces.
    Addendum to