Double Play (38 page)

Cheap perfume
hung in the air. Girls gyrated on three different stages, dancing
toward each front row spectator until he slid a folded bill into
their lacy garters
. T
he
act was as mechanical as the casino automatons shoving quarter
after quarter into slot machine
s
.
Embarrassed
by the spectacle,
Cat studied the dazed faces of the
patrons. Webbs caught her shocked expression.

“
Something wrong?”

“
They’re as naked as newborn
s
.”

Webbs laughed.
“Well, what’d you expect?”

“
I
don’t know, a naughty schoolgirl outfit? A teddy? At least pasties
and a g-string? If this a
strip
club, shouldn’t they be
stripping?”

“
I
guess you got to get here earlier.”

“
Hmm.”
She looked down at her own pinstriped pantsuit and frowned. Since
she’d stopped by the campus, she
’d had
no
time to change after work. “I suddenly feel a little
overdressed.”

Webbs
gave her a critical onceover.
“A
little bit. You might want to lose the jacket at least
. You
kind of have a female
detective look going on.”

“
You
think people
will
conclude
I’m investigating this place?”

“
I was
actually thinking they’re going to put the spotlight on Officer
Pouty while the DJ cues up
‘
Breaking the Law.
’ 
”

Cat widened her
eyes in horror. “Point taken.” She slipped out of the jacket and
folded it over her forearm. “So do any of these ladies know
Kiki?”

“
Girl,
do I look like I’ve got a punch card here? I’m a bookie, not a
hookie. Ask them.”

Cat snuck another
look
at
the stages,
where the girls were spindling themselves around shiny dance poles,
much to the delight of their attentive customers. “They look
um
 
…
busy
.”
She surveyed the rest of the room.

“
Maybe
a waitress instead?”

The waitresses
were much easier to focus on in their navy blue strapless rompers,
red neck ties,
and
white
platform heels
—
chaste by
comparison. They completed the sailor chic
look
with sea captain’s hats and drink
trays designed
to
resemble
life preservers. The outfits were risqué, but cute.
They could work for Halloween costume
s—
that is, if she could manage to talk Benji out of
their Mario and Princess Toadstool duo. He’d already put a costume
deposit down at Nintendo Nation for the VBU faculty party on the
Maid of the Mist
.
They
were going to be the biggest nerds on the Niagara River.
Considering that they would be mingling with a boatful of college
professors, that was no small feat.

A
petite blonde
waitress stopped in
front of them and smiled. “Can I get you two a table? We have a
great booth open in the corner by the Starboard Stage.”

“
No,
we don’t need a table.” Cat pulled out her cellphone and flipped
through her images. “I was actually hoping you could give me some
information
. Do
you know
a
Kiki
who
used to work here?” Cat showed
her a wedding picture of George and Kiki grinning next to the
Soldiers scoreboard.

The waitress took
a fleeting glance at the screen and her smile disappeared. “Bitch,
if you ain’t gonna order a drink or wings, don’t waste my
time.”

“
S-sorry. I just
—
”

The waitress
turned on her platforms and stomped off.

Cat frowned at
Webbs.

“
You
should’ve ordered a drink. Everybody knows that’s how you get
information. Besides, all this spy work has me in the mood for a
Vesper.”

“
Did
you say
‘
Kiki
’
?”

-
The voice came from behind
them
. T
hey both turned
to
where a
topless brunette
was
straddl
ing
a man twice
her size. She dipped her head back so that she was looking at them
upside down.

Cat took a step
toward her. “Uh, yeah. Kiki Hudson.”

“
LeBow,” Webbs corrected.

The stripper
sat up and
kicked
a leg
in the
air, swinging it in front of the man’s
face.
She came to her feet and bent forward, shaking her
hips from side to side for the benefit of her customer while
smiling at Webbs and Cat.

“
That’s what I thought. I knew Kiki.”

“
Can
you give me a little information
 …
I mean, I don’t want to
interrupt
your
,
uh, work.”

She blew a kiss
at the large man and stood up. “All done. So what do you want to
know about Kiki?”

“
Can
you tell us anything about her and her husband, George Hudson? I
hear he used to come in here a lot.”

“
Sure.” She smiled sweetly, and took in Cat with one long
appraisal. “Of course, it’ll cost you.”

“
Oh
uh
 
…
.
” Cat whipped out her wallet and
pulled out a twenty dollar bill. She looked at the woman’s
garter
, snaked around her tan
thighs
. “Umm
 
… am I supposed to put it
 
…?”

The stripper
chuckled and took it out of her hand. “That’s not
necessary.”

Cat smiled
gratefully. “This my first time in a strip club.”

“
No
kidding.” She snuggled the twenty in her
lacy
garter. “I know George
,
too. Actually I’ll never forget
the first time he came in here. He was all upset, crying and
everything. That’s when he met Kiki.”

“
A
couple of years ago? It wouldn’t have happened to be the night of
the Evans/Csongor fight, was it?”

She nodded. “As a
matter of fact, it was. I only remember because afterwards, we had
all these buff wannabes packing the place. They were good tippers,
but you had to work for it.”

“
So
George was upset?” Cat turned to Webbs. “His gambling counselor
told me he almost fell off the wagon with that fight.”

“
Oh
no, George didn’t gamble,” the dancer said.

Webbs
blew a raspberry
.

Cat shushed her.
“How do you know that?”

“
Kiki
told us. George had confided in her about his gambling problem and
after that night, he kept coming in and request
ing
her. He believed she was
,
like, his salvation from
addiction. At first it was
,
like
,
this big joke to all the dancers, even Kiki, but it wasn’t long
after that he became her Captain Save a Ho.”

“
Excuse me?”

“
You
know, a guy who comes in telling us we shouldn’t work here and all
the potential we got, all the while treating himself to
the
Champagne Room.” She
squinched up her pretty
features in a mask of disgust
. “After a while, he told Kiki
he only wanted her to strip for him.”

“
Gee,
it’s like a fairytale,” Webbs said.

“
The
Champagne Room? Is that a move or something?” Cat asked, afraid of
what the answer might be.

“
No.”
Giggling, she pointed a long, French-manicured finger over to the
far corner and began to strut toward it. She trailed her
fingernails along each table of customers as she passed
by.

“
Let
me tell you, it couldn’t have happened to a shittier girl. Kiki is
a coldhearted goldigger.”

“
As
opposed to the strippers with hearts of gold?” Webbs
asked.

The girl
glar
ed
at the
bookie.

Cat’s palm shot
up, playing umpire between the two. She didn’t have time for a
catfight. “She didn’t mean anything by it.”

“
Whatever.” She
shot Webbs
a dirty look.
“Anyway, after they got together, she quit and
George
stopped coming in here.”

“
Why
do you say it like that?”

“
Kiki
started coming back a few months ago, but not with George.
She
’d met
a younger dude
in the Champagne Room.”

“
She
still dances?”

“
No,
no. A lot of cheating spouses come here because if strip clubs are
good for anything, it’s discretion. Plus, the bouncers crack down
on cameras in the Champagne Room so
Mrs
. Hudson doesn’t
have to worry about photographic evidence getting back to
George.”

“
This
guy she comes here with, can you tell me what he looks
like?”

The dancer
stopped and gestured
broadly
around the room. “We’ve got three types of
guys that come here: business sleazeballs, bachelor horndogs and
pervert losers. He falls in the first group but that’s all I can
tell you.”

“
Hair
color? Skin color?”

“
His
money is green, that’s the only color I care about.”

Cat slyly pulled
out her cellphone, not wanting to draw the ire of an oversized
bouncer. She pulled up the same picture she’d shown James. “It
isn’t this guy?”

The dancer looked
around the room. “Hmm
 
… I don’t remember.”

“
You
barely looked at it.”

Webbs nudged
her.

“
What?”

She nodded her
head toward the stripper and rubbed her fingers together. “Hint,
hint.”

“
Oh.”
Cat sighed and
pulled
out
another twenty.

The stripper
smiled. “Hey, I’m missing tips for this.”

“
Just
so you know, this is supposed to be my swap meet money.” The annual
comic convention was in town tomorrow and she had planned on
crossing Benji off her Christmas list extra early. She begrudgingly
handed the bill over. “Does this jog your memory?”

She tucked it
into her garter. “Yeah, that’s him. I’ll even give you this one for
free. They’re here right now.” She nodded her head to the
glitter
ing
door behind
her.

“
The
Champagne Room? I’ve got to get in there.”

Cat took a step
forward but the dancer grabbed her arm. “No
t without
an invite.”

“
Well
,
can’t you
invite me?”

“
Sorry. I just work here, which is the only other way you can
get in there.” She shrugged at Webbs. “It’s been fun
,
ladies, but I’m supposed to be on
stage in five and I still have to hairspray my thighs so they can
grip the pole.” She winked. “Trade secret.”

“
Good
luck with that.”

“
Maybe
you’ll stay and watch my set?”

“
Uh …
maybe.”

With that, she
smiled and bounced off.

Cat eyed the
Champagne Room door. It was blocked by another black t-shirted
bouncer whose shoulders were as wide as the doorframe. There was no
slipping past that ox. “Damn. I’d love to see if Kiki and James are
in there celebrating
pulling
one over on George.”

Webbs pointed as
the stripper pushed open an unmanned door to the right of the stage
marked DANCERS ONLY.

She cocked her
head at Cat, sizing her up.

“
What
are you, a size
four
?”

Cat crossed her
arms over her body, suddenly wishing she was still wearing her suit
jacket over the thin camisole. “Why?”

She’d snuck a
peek inside the dancers’ dressing room before the door had slammed
shut and feared she already knew what Webbs was
thinking.

“
I’ve
got an idea of how
you
can
get in that room, but you’ll have to lose some
clothes.”

“
Are
you sure this is a
four
?
I think it’s too small.”

Cat pulled at the
hem of the romper’s tiny spandex shorts. That only made her breasts
fall out of the strapless top. She quickly yanked it up.

“
How’s
it feel?”

Cat
sucked in
her stomach. “I can’t
breathe.”

“
Then
it’s a fit. Come on out, let me see.”

She slowly
stepped out from behind the privacy screen and into the girls’
dressing area.

“
Look
at you!” Webbs handed her a pair of white platform heels and patted
the vanity chair. “Sit here and I’ll paint your face. If you don’t
have at least three inches of makeup on, everyone will know you’re
an imposter. Why, I don’t know, since the last thing anyone looks
at here is faces.”