Swingin' in the Rain (7 page)

  “Hey, hey,” she called out, coming through the front door I’d left unlocked. 

  “Coffee and brownies?” I asked, coming out of the kitchen with two cups and plates.

  “Oh my God, I hate you! I can’t eat the brownie. I swear I make it my life’s work to still be able to get into my Lakers uniform. I would be just devastated if I couldn’t fit my fanny into those yellow short shorts.”

  She looked at the brownies with so much desire in her eyes I started to feel like I should hide them. Before I could, her hand darted out and grabbed one, the biggest one. “Okay, just one bite.” She tore into that thing like it was her last meal. I always say when you deprive yourself of something it turns you into a binger. Case in point.

  “One won’t hurt me,” she said as she licked her fingers.

  I have to admit I was a little taken aback. I couldn’t help wondering if she was bulimic. I handed her a napkin to wipe the crumbs from her face when she grabbed my wrist to look at it.

  “Wow,” she said. “You surprise me, Alex.”

  “Good brownies, huh? I know. When I’m PMSing I go through. . .”

     “That’s not what I’m talking about. The napkin.” A sly smile crept over her face. “I had no idea you were into . . . that,” she said, waving the napkin in my face. Stupidly, I’d handed her my evidence. I took it back.

  “Dance clubs? I’ve been to a few.”

  She stared at me, the sly smile growing into a wide grin.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Do you really think that’s a dance club?”

  “Well . . . I assumed. What other kind of club could it be?”

  “So . . . you’ve never been there?”

  “No,” I said, “never.”

  She sipped her coffee and continued to look amused. It pissed me off.

  “Okay, stop looking at me like that and tell me what’s going on.”

  “That,” she said, taking the napkin back and waving it around like a flag, “is a swingers club.”

  “Swingers?” I said. “You mean like keys in a bowl swingers? I thought that went out with the sixties.”

  “No,” she said, “you’re thinkin’ of wife swapping. This is swingin’.”

  “So people go there to have sex? With somebody?”

  “With somebody, anybody and everybody.”

  I frowned. So this was where Patti and Randy met? I needed to regroup, here. This had never crossed my mind. I didn’t know which one surprised me more. Well, okay Patti. Randy, I at least knew, could be a little twisted and leaned toward the slightly dangerous things in life. But Patti? Always so professional and quiet a swinger?  I mean she looked great even if she was pushing 60. And I knew she could get a groove on after some shots of tequila, but who knew her groove was that kind of groove? Yeah, that was the bigger surprise.

  “Why do you have this napkin, I mean, if you’ve never been there?” Tonja asked, a little skeptical. “Research for a part?”

  It occurred to me to seize that as an excuse, but then I thought no. If I was going to find out who killed Randy, I was really going to need someone to watch Sarah from time to time. So, I decided to be truthful.

  I told her the whole story.

  “Oh my God,” she said, after I finished. “Alex!” She reached out and put her hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I got over Randy a long time ago. It’s Sarah I’m worried about.”

  “You haven’t told her yet?”

  “I want to be able to tell her how and why her daddy died,” I said. “I mean, that he was murdered . . .”

  “You’re gonna tell her he was murdered?” she asked. “And why?”

  I drank some coffee.

  “Maybe it’s for my own benefit. Maybe I need to know the how, the why and the who before I tell her. I don’t know.  I’m just trying to do what feels right, Tonja.”

  “Well, I can see that, I guess.”

  “I need your help, though,” I said.

  “Sure, I’ll be glad to help. What do you want me to do?”

  “I have to go to this club tonight to meet Patti,” I said.

  “The make-up artist who knew Randy?”

  “Yes, I still have to find out how she knew Randy. Why he had the clubs logo tattooed on his arm? What does that mean? I’m hoping to get something out of her tonight.”

  “You think she knows who killed him?”

  “Maybe not exactly,” I said. “But if she and Randy were in that life, maybe she can point me to some people he pissed off.  He was good at that.”

  “And you think he made somebody mad enough to kill him?”

  “It’s obvious that’s what he did,” I said. “I just need to find out who.”

  “So, you’re goin’ to this club tonight?”

  “Yes, and I need you to watch Sarah.”

  Excitedly, she said, “I have a better idea. Let me go with you.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Have you been there before?”

  “Not to that club, but I’ve been to others. There are certain . . . protocols you’ll have to adhere to.”

  “Yeah, so I found out. Patti said that tonight was ‘cowboy’ night. I need chaps or . . . something cowboyish. Are there more things I need to know?”

  “Definitely,” she said with a smile.

  “And you know them?”

  “I had a boyfriend for a short time who was into it,” she said. “I went with him a few times, but I could never . . . you know . . . I just . . . watched.”

  I studied her and asked, “You just... watched?” Her eyes were darting around so I knew she was lying. Jakes was a master!

  “I just watched,” she said. “We broke up soon after that. Anyway, you’ll need someone who knows the ropes, Alex.”

  “I’ll be meeting Patti there.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t know what she’s up to, do you?”

  “Patti? She’s not a danger to me.”

  “Did you ever think of her as bein’ a swinger? Or knowin’ your ex?” She had a very valid point.

  “Well, no . . .”

  “I think you need somebody to watch your back. Do you want to tell your boyfriend where you’re goin’?”

  “No!” I said. “I don’t want him to know quite yet. He’d probably try to stop me.”

  She smiled and asked, “He wouldn’t, maybe, want to go with you?”

  “Well, if you mean for pleasure, no,” I said. “He’d never be into that.” That made me think. Would he? He’s not very good at sharing and actually, neither am I. “If you mean as a cop, then again, no.  I think he’d make me stay home and go meet Patti himself. I’m not so sure I’d want him going there without me.”

  “Then you need me,” she said, “to be your partner in crime.  And . . . to help you get dressed.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  We talked a bit about who should watch Sarah. Tonja said she sometimes worked with a teenaged girl while programming computers, but I thought maybe I had a better idea. I said I’d let her know and she left with the promise of returning around 8:00 so we could get ready together. I told her I’d call her before then about the babysitter.

  Then I called Georgie.

  “I have a better idea,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I’m going with you girls.”

  “Georgie—“

  “Who’s always been your best wing man, Sweetie?” he asked.

  “You, but— this isn’t your normal kind of club, George.” I hesitated because I wasn’t sure what I should say to him. Patti and George worked together and I was pretty sure she wouldn’t want him knowing about her “secret” life. “Look, stay where you are. I’ll get right back to you.” I disconnected the call before he could say anything and then I called Patti.

  “Make-up,” she answered.

  “Hi, Patti, it’s Alex. I was hoping you’d still be there.”

  “What’s up? Still coming tonight?” She didn’t sound too thrilled to be hearing from me.

  “Oh, yeah. Here’s the thing. A girlfriend of mine saw the napkin you gave me and told me what kind of a club Trois ou Plus is.” I waited for a response and just got silence. So I went on. “I don’t want to make things uncomfortable for you but, uh, George wants to come.”

  “Oh my God! Did you tell him about the club, too?”

“No! I mean, not yet. I wanted to talk to you first.”

  I waited for her to say something but all I heard was her breathing on the other end. “I promise we won’t say anything to anyone about this, and your, uh, ‘lifestyle’ if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Wait a sec.” She must have put her hand over the mouthpiece because I heard muffled voices. “I’m taking the phone into the hall.” She was whispering now. I heard her take a deep breath. “Fuck it. I’m screwed. Go ahead and bring him, but no one else.”

  “Well, I kind of have to bring my friend. She knows about the club and I could use the help. If you know what I mean.”

  She took a beat before answering. “Fine. I’ll see you at ten.”

  She hung up on me. That was weird. But so was everything else about Patti, lately. I called George back.

  “You have got to be kidding me! Patti? The most professional person on the planet, a swinger? I never would have guessed it!” I waited for him to get off the ceiling before answering.

  “She said I could bring you, George, but I don’t know. I don’t want to make her feel more uncomfortable than she already does. We all work together and I’m sure she doesn’t want this getting out. Talk about embarrassing. And it could cost her her job.”

  “I won’t say a thing. You know me. I’ll keep it zipped.”

  “I don’t know, George.”

  “All the horrible secrets you’ve told me over the years. Have I ever betrayed you?” I wasn’t exactly sure what “horrible” secrets he was talking about but I let it slide for the moment. “You don’t know what’s going to happen at that club, Alex,” he said. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to go to a real swinger’s club.”

  “Really? Okaaay, but it’s not a gay swinger’s club—“

  “All the better. I’m going to disguise myself as a straight man. An adventurous, woman loving straight man. I love it! I have to go with you, Sweetie. When was the last time we had some fun? Huh?” he asked. “You really do need somebody with you that you can count on.”

  This covert operation was getting more crowded by the minute. Before I could protest again or ask about my “horrible” secrets he asked, “And who’s gonna do your hair? You need to have swinger’s hair! Something circa nineteen sixty five. We need to rat it up really high. What should I wear? Maybe a jumpsuit? How dope would that be? What are you gonna wear? Something sexy. Like a dress straight out of Mad Men?”

  “George! This isn’t a role I’m playing. Swinger’s don’t dress any differently than anyone else.” I paused. “Well, actually they do. Patti told me that tonight is cowboy night and I have to wear something western. Tonja’s coming over at eight. We’re going to get ready together.”

  “Cowboy night? That settles that. I am not taking no for an answer. I’m going. I have the best cowpoke outfit from two Halloweens ago. I have something for you, too!”

  “No thanks, Georgie. I got it covered.”

  “Okay. But if you change your mind--” I assured him I wouldn’t. “I’ll be there at eight,” he said. “I’ll do both your hair. Wouldn’t Tonja love that?”

  “Well, yeah, what chick wouldn’t,” I said, “but we still need a babysitter for Sarah.”

  “No problem, I’ll bring him with me.”

  “Wayne? Does he have the time?” Wayne was George’s longtime partner and my second closest friend in the world.

  “He’s between projects,” George said. “Plus he loves Sarah.”

  “And she loves him. Okay, I’ll call Tonja and tell her what’s up.”

  “Good,” he said. “Then we’ll be there at eight.”

  “And Georgie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Let’s not go too over the top with the costume, okay? I mean, don’t dress as a cow or a horse, please.”

  I was thinking back to the Halloween party at Hef’s a couple years ago. George had dressed as a big fluffy lamb.

  “We don’t want to attract too much attention,” I told him.

  “Sweetie,” he said, “we don’t wanna stand out for the wrong reason, either. If you know what I mean?” I think I heard him wink.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “George, you are a car snob,” I said.

  “Why? Because I don’t want to be in your beat up Explorer with those strappy things slapping all over the place?”

  “They are surfboard racks, George. And who cares, anyway?” I was getting tired of the people I loved picking on my Explorer.

  “I want to arrive in style, Sweetie. We have people to impress.” This coming from the man who had on cow print chaps and a ten gallon hat.

  Tonja had fared better. She was wearing a suede miniskirt and cowboy boots with a rhinestone bustier and a cute cowboy hat. I basically had on the same thing she did except my skirt was denim and I had added a kerchief. Thank God I never threw anything away. I had found these clothes in a storage box in my garage, leftovers from the 80’s.

  “Are you sure we’re in the right area? This doesn’t look like any club neighborhood to me. Where the hell is this place?” George asked.

  “This is right,” Tonja piped in. “These kinds of clubs are always out in the boonies. So as not to attract any attention. Keep driving! It should be on the left.”