Hit (22 page)

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Authors: Tara Moss

BOOK: Hit
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The ex-coffin-maker, Bogey, trailed along behind the two women, head down and beer in hand, his leather jacket scrunched under one arm.

What must he be thinking?

Makedde watched as Charlotte checked for an empty space in a private room, glancing from one opaque glass-partitioned square to another, all the while holding Mak’s hand. She eventually found a room she seemed satisfied with, and led the two of them inside. When she stepped inside the room, Mak was surprised to find a woman getting a lap dance in one corner. It was the only other female patron Mak had seen at the club. The young woman, dressed in pants and a white blouse, seemed to be quietly enjoying having another woman wriggling above her lap as she sipped a martini. There was plenty of space inside the private room, despite the other dancer and her customer, and Mak soon saw that it was dark enough for the other couple to fade to sensual shapes in the background. The room certainly felt more private than it had looked from the outside. There was a low lounge on one side
with plush cushions, and Mak and Bogey sat down next to one another, side by side, but purposely not touching.

Mak’s heart pounded.

Without any small talk Charlotte began to strip, first swaying to the music and running those cool hands across her slim figure, then teasing with the straps of her dress, as she had on the stage. When she pulled her black dress right down and stepped out of it, she was wearing a matching set of expensive satin underwear. She bent over to delicately place her dress on the arm of the lounge, and Mak flicked her eyes up around the walls of the room.

Ah, there you are.

Security cameras. There were few things in this place that would not be viewed by security, or the club’s owner himself, even in the private rooms. They were definitely being watched.

Charlotte came to Mak, bent in front of her and took both of Mak’s hands gently in her own. It felt incredibly intimate for Mak to have this near-naked woman hold her hands. Behind Charlotte’s petite frame, the vague, sensual shape of the other dancer gyrating naked in the woman’s lap caught Mak’s eye. Charlotte asked Mak to hold her arms straight out in front of her, and she complied. Charlotte then ran her fingers up and down Mak’s bare arms and plunged between them, giving Mak a start. The dancer rested her body weight on Mak’s thighs, and let
her tiny body slide between Mak’s legs, gyrating up and down.

Damn.

It was a strange experience for Makedde: sexual, intimate and yet impersonal. She’d not thought she was harbouring Sapphic desires, but Mak found this woman’s erotic ballet arousing. The atmosphere of the club was not erotic—not like this. This was a shock to her system. Mak took a long sip of her drink, nearly finishing it. She felt the alcohol rush to her brain. She glanced over at Bogey, who appeared to be having as much difficulty as she was in determining where to look.

Before long, Charlotte had slipped out of her bra and then her panties. Only those handy garters and her diamanté shoes and jewellery stayed on. She turned her back to them and bent over to touch the floor, her fanny in Makedde’s face. She was breathtakingly flexible, hands around her ankles and her face at the floor looking back at Mak. There was not one single mark or flaw on her tanned skin; Mak was amazed. Then Charlotte, with her pert breasts and seamless, toned body, grabbed Bogey’s leather jacket and put it on. She posed with it, smiling cheekily, lifting the collar to her face, and rubbing the leather over her torso.

Bogey seemed suddenly to have a dry mouth. He swallowed a couple of times in quick succession, and adjusted the neck of his T-shirt. One Doc Marten boot began tapping.

‘Charlotte?’ Mak began.

‘Yes,’ she responded, caressing Bogey’s jacket, and posing her small, firm buttocks in his direction.

‘You dance beautifully.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I want you to keep dancing while I ask you a question.’

‘Oh?’ Charlotte said, bending backwards and displaying her neatly waxed groin again, leaving Mak temporarily without words.

She slid another fifty into the woman’s garter. ‘You know Amy Camilleri, don’t you?’

Charlotte faltered. ‘Um, I don’t know. Sorry…’

‘Yes, you do. She works here,’ Mak insisted.

The sexy pout vanished. ‘Umm, she doesn’t work here right now.’

‘But she does work here
normally
, and you do know her.’

Charlotte stopped dancing.

‘Please keep dancing,’ Mak urged, thinking of the cameras. She pressed another fifty into the garter and Charlotte continued, this time more hesitantly. She ran her hands over her bare skin and swayed in one place, Bogey’s jacket still on her. ‘Just keep on dancing,’ Mak said. ‘I like the way you dance.’

Charlotte seemed reassured by this. She went for another dive in between Makedde’s legs, sliding up close to her body. When she was close to Mak’s ear, she said. ‘Who are you?’ Her breath was scented with peppermint.

‘I am an investigator,’ Mak replied, ‘helping one of Amy’s friends. Amy is not in any trouble, and I don’t want you or the other girls here to have any trouble either, so that is why I’m here like this, as a customer just having a little chat. I know you don’t want your employer to see you being questioned by police or anyone official. So just tell me about Amy. Where is she staying? I know she hasn’t been home in a while.’

Charlotte stopped again.

‘Keep dancing, keep dancing…Has she been in to work this week?’

The dancer shook her head.

Amy hasn’t been in to work. And she hasn’t been home. Why?

Had something terrible happened to Meaghan’s friend as well?

‘I knew you hadn’t been in here before,’ Charlotte said. ‘I would have remembered you.’

Mak smiled. ‘Tell me about Amy, Charlotte.’ She slipped another fifty into her garter. ‘And dance for me.’

‘Something’s going on with her,’ she said, head upside down between her ankles. Mak kept her eyes on Charlotte’s face, and she wasn’t sure where Bogey was looking. He was shifting in his seat. He crossed his legs and sat back with his head against the glass wall. ‘She hasn’t been around since Thursday,’ Charlotte said. ‘She seemed paranoid.’

Thursday. When Meaghan was killed.

‘Paranoid? In what way?’ Mak asked.

‘Like, you know, paranoid, that’s all. She kept asking if anyone had come to the club looking for her. She was scared. I thought she was maybe just doing drugs again and getting all loopy.’

Mak nodded. ‘She recently lost a friend. Did she mention anything about that?’

Charlotte shook her head. ‘No. That’s awful. I don’t know her that well—she’s just one of the girls here, you know?’

‘Meaghan Wallace worked here a bit, too. Did you know her?’

‘Meaghan? I don’t think so,’ she said.

‘A blonde with a bob. She went back to Sydney.’ It had been a few years.

Charlotte shook her head, and Mak believed her. ‘Where can I find Amy at the moment? It’s important that I talk to her.’

Charlotte was hesitant.

‘Is she staying at a friend’s? Her mum’s?’ Mak pressed.

‘I’m really not supposed to tell you. We aren’t supposed to talk about it.’

We.

So the other girls all knew something as well. The Texas warden was keeping them in line.

‘You have to tell me, Charlotte. It’s very important. I know you don’t want any trouble.’

As a private investigator, Mak had no more rights or powers than the girl who was dancing
for her, but Charlotte didn’t need to know that. Implied power was enough.

Charlotte seemed unnerved by Mak’s inquisition. She clung to Bogey’s jacket like a security blanket, the sensuality gone from her movements. Mak could see she wasn’t going to do any more dancing. Their time was almost up.

‘How do I know you are who you say you are?’ she squeaked.

‘I’m giving you my business card.’ Mak wrapped her card in one last fifty-dollar bill and put it into the woman’s garter. Two hundred and fifty dollars was all the money of her client’s that she could rationalise spending to try to find Amy’s address through her work colleagues. If this didn’t work she might have to start thinking of another avenue, or she’d have to discover another friend of Meaghan’s who was easier to reach. ‘I need to speak to her and I need you to trust me. This is important.’

‘I wouldn’t trust you if you weren’t a woman.’

Charlotte’s customers would not like to hear that.

‘You can trust me.’

‘I really am not supposed to be telling you this, but Amy is um…staying with the owner, Larry. Everyone at the club kinda knows, but we’re not allowed to talk about it with anyone. Thursday she just stopped coming to work, and word is she shacked up with him.’

‘I see,’ Mak said, relieved.

She contained her smile.

So that’s why she wasn’t at her place. She’d shacked up with the owner. That was all?

Mak had been expecting something much worse.

‘You mean the owner, Larry Moon, right?’ Mak had done her homework on the club.

Charlotte nodded, swinging her hips and doing the occasional half-hearted shimmy.

‘You promise not to tell anyone that I told you?’ Charlotte said in a nervous voice.

‘I promise,’ Mak said. ‘No more questions now. I liked your dance. Thank you.’

Charlotte lit up, finally off the hook. She seemed very relieved. In one smooth action she took the bills in her garter and again slid them into the other garter she had bunched up on her wrist. She had quite a collection now.

‘Wait until I am dressed and we will leave together. That is the way it’s done.’

‘Okay. Of course,’ Mak replied.

When Charlotte was dressed, Mak said, ‘I just have one more question to ask—don’t worry, it’s not related. Does your job pay well? You’re a good dancer. What do you pull in, if you don’t mind my asking?’

Charlotte looked flattered instead of offended, which was good. ‘I do pretty well…You’re not with the Tax Department, are you?’

‘No,’ Mak said, laughing.

‘Well, I don’t mind telling you that last night I did four private dances and made over fifteen hundred, cash. My husband and I are saving for a house. Maybe we’ll have it by the end of the year.’

‘Good luck with that,’ Mak said.

Charlotte led Mak out, hand in hand again, with Bogey trailing behind. Charlotte still looked a little nervous about their earlier conversation, but Mak thought she would slide back into character soon, and she did. She left them at the bar and sidled through the crowds of men again to go looking for her next lucrative dance.

Bogey appeared a little awestruck. He had been quiet throughout the dance, perhaps unsure of where to look, or of what could be said, especially in Mak’s presence.

‘Thanks for that,’ Mak told him. ‘You were very helpful. I think I got what I needed—my work is done here. Do you want to leave now?’

He nodded. ‘Your wish is my command.’

After the crowded and somewhat surreal atmosphere inside the Thunderball Club, walking out into the fresh air on Lonsdale Street was a relief. Mak took a deep breath and tilted her head up to the stars. The air was clear, things were quiet, and there weren’t any crowds of men. This was better.

She looked at her watch; it was nearly two in the morning. They had been inside for over two hours.

Suddenly, the tiredness hit her.

Bogey opened the passenger-side door and she got into his Mustang. He shut the door for her and went around to his side.

‘Which hotel are you at?’ he asked.

‘Tolarno, St Kilda, thanks.’

He started up the car and negotiated the dark streets while Mak ruminated over what had happened. She couldn’t believe that all that evasive action by the warden girl was due simply to an in-house rule of not talking about the boss’s private life. It had seemed a bit over the top. Mak supposed the girls might be protective of one another, though. Any swearing to secrecy of personal information in that club would be a good thing, she supposed. But she would have to get all the info she could on Larry Moon.

‘What did you think of all that?’ Mak finally asked Bogey.

He was concentrating on the road. ‘What did I think of my beer, or what did I think of you shouting me an expensive lap dance?’

Mak laughed. ‘That must have seemed a little weird.’

‘No, it’s fine. I understand. You needed information from her and you figured that was the best way to get her to talk.’

‘Yes.’

Despite the light banter, she sensed that they both felt awkward after the experience. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to bring him inside. Or,
at the very least, it might not have been the best idea to bring him in to that lap dance.

‘Do you feel comfortable in places like that?’ she asked him.

‘Comfortable? Well, I like looking at women,’ he said.
An honest answer.
‘Every man does. But places like that aren’t as sexy as they are supposed to be. It doesn’t offend me or anything, I just don’t go for it, that’s all.’

‘Fair enough,’ Mak said.

‘Besides, a lot of those girls are far too young.’

‘Like the bartender?’ Mak offered. She had looked like she belonged on a high-school cheerleading team.

‘Yeah. I felt a bit creepy.’

‘You did? But you didn’t do anything wrong. Most of those girls would have been, what, nineteen, twenty…or in their mid-twenties? You’re in your twenties. They hardly seem too young for someone your age. Did you see all the old farts in there, letching on girls a third of their age?’

He nodded. ‘No, it’s just not my thing. In an environment like that, everything is forced. And the girls are young, just going through the motions. Most young girls are a blank slate. You can impose your own fantasies on them but they rarely have fantasies of their own. When they get older, women know what they want. They have more character.’

‘More baggage,’ Mak added, thinking of
herself. Not yet thirty, and she’d already had enough break-ups, brushes with death and run-ins with stalkers to qualify, even if she hoped she wasn’t as neurotic as the tag implied.

‘Baggage
is
character. Anyone without baggage comes into a relationship with nothing,’ Bogey said.

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