Winning Texas (21 page)

“
Did you tell him you
’
d throw him out of the club?
”

“
Not at all. If anyone says that, they
’
re lying.
”

“
Did you see him again?
”

“
No.
”
Krause looked at the officer without wavering.

“
Can you describe what you did after that conversation?
”

“
I had a drink or two, talked to some of the dancers and left when the club closed at 2. Went back to my apartment. My girlfriend was there.
”

“
Can I get her name, address and phone number?
”

Bauer broke in.
“
We
’
ll provide anything you want.
”

“
How about your employees? Do you know what they were doing during the time the reporter was there?
”

“
It was an extremely busy night,
”
Krause said.
“
Everyone was stretched thin. I
’
m sure they had better things to do than talk to a reporter.
”

The cop
’
s eyebrows went up again and he looked at them both for a moment.

“
We
’
ll be back in touch with you, Mr. Krause, but you
’
re free to go for now. Just don
’
t leave town without notifying us. Thank you for coming in.
”

The detective gave Krause and Bauer his card.
“
If you have any questions or remember something that might be relevant, don
’
t hesitate to call me.
”

After the cop left the room, Bauer looked at him.

“
He doesn
’
t have anything on you yet, but if I were you, I
’
d lay low,
”
Bauer said.

“
How do you know what they have?
”

“
If he had any physical evidence, like fingerprints, you
’
d know it by now. But they
’
re still investigating.
”

“
Nothing will turn up,
”
Krause said.
“
Nothing that incriminates me, that is.
”

“
That
’
s certainly what I hope for,
”
Bauer said.
“
In the meantime, don
’
t do anything dumb.
”

CHAPTER 21

Betsy Marr held hands with Patrick Costas across the booth of the packed pancake house in Pasadena. Despite the chattering early Sunday afternoon crowd, the high-backed wooden booth gave them the illusion of privacy. They
’
d finished their blueberry pancakes and sausage, lingered over coffee and now touched delicately on the question before them. It was about as sticky as their syrupy plates, Betsy thought, but Patrick was persistent.

“
Bets, I
’
m down to my last hundred,
”
Patrick said.
“
Our motel room is paid up for two more days. Then what?
”

She squeezed his hand and looked into his almost-black eyes for something, but she really didn
’
t know what she was looking for
–
reassurance, trust, love? Maybe all of those things.

They
’
d gone last night to the Texas Girls Club for Patrick
’
s gig and she had to admit, it had been kind of fun. She
’
d been sitting at a table by herself, watching the band when a nice-looking older man
–
probably in his forties, she guessed
–
walked up and asked politely if he could sit down. She was about to say no when he
’
d extended his hand and introduced himself as Kyle Krause, the club
’
s owner. She
’
d told him about the band and her boyfriend, and he
’
d waved to Patrick and told her how much he was enjoying the music. He asked her about herself and she didn
’
t flinch as she said she was Betsy Taylor from Dallas. The name came from her genuine-looking fake ID, which he
’
d asked to see. She could see him computing her birth date in his head, looking relieved that it showed her as twenty-one.

“
Just checking,
”
he said pleasantly.
“
We don
’
t want to get into trouble.
”

They talked until the band
’
s break, when he walked with her over to meet Patrick. She could see that Patrick liked him, especially when Mr. Krause asked if the band was available the next few Saturdays.

He led her back to the table after the break and they continued to chat about the club. She was glad for his company, because it meant that other, not-so-attractive men would stay away from the table. There were so many guys in there, older and kind of dangerous-looking, like they
’
d stopped by for a beer after robbing a gas station. She
’
d also noticed a couple of younger dudes with scruffy hair and bad teeth looking at her, and she
’
d been nervous about them. She routinely attracted male attention
–
she wasn
’
t completely sure why. Patrick said it was because she was beautiful. But who knew what went through men
’
s minds?

Then there were her breasts. She
’
d developed early and by the age of twelve, her breasts were as full and round as those of grown women. For a few years, she
’
d been embarrassed when she had to buy 36D bras and bikini tops when other girls her age still had small, graceful buds. By fifteen, she
’
d discovered their power. She could get a boy to do most anything she wanted just by wearing a tight top and flirting a little. But it caused problems with her dad, who seemed embarrassed if she wore something low-cut or form fitting. She heard him telling their housekeeper, Maria, to talk to her about what kind of clothes proper young ladies should wear, especially to school. She
’
d felt sad that he wouldn
’
t talk to her himself because they
’
d always had such a close relationship. She
’
d taken to studying old pictures of her mother, who
’
d died of cancer when she was four. She looked like her mother in the face, but her own body was much rounder than her mother
’
s slender frame. She guessed her dad was disappointed with her looks.

She
’
d been alarmed when she heard he was coming to Houston last week. She
’
d called Maria and told her to let her dad know that she was okay, but didn
’
t want to be followed or contacted just yet. Maria had been her confidant, so Betsy had told her about traveling with her boyfriend. She
’
d threatened to hide if her dad came looking and left open the possibility that she
’
d be back soon.

Now, as she sat in the booth with Patrick, she realized that he really was counting on her to start dancing at the Texas Girls club. Krause had offered her three shifts a week and said she could easily earn up to $1,000 in tips for just a few hours of work. He said that if she were a good dancer, she wouldn
’
t have to strip entirely. She could still wear modesty pasties, blue glittery pieces that would adhere to and cover her nipples, and tap pants, which offered significantly more coverage than bikini bottoms. She wouldn
’
t have to mix with the clientele much either, he said. She could dance on the main stage, have a drink or two if a customer approached her nicely and wouldn
’
t be expected to do lap dances in the VIP room. That was important because the VIP room was off by itself and Betsy knew that couldn
’
t be a good thing. Also, Krause said she could coordinate some of her shifts with Patrick
’
s band appearances. She
’
d listened to it all carefully, because she felt guilty about money. After she
’
d run away, her dad had frozen her bank account and cancelled her credit cards. She wasn
’
t contributing anything to their expenses.

When she told Patrick about Krause
’
s offer, she was slightly surprised that he seemed excited about it. She
’
d assumed that he might not want her to dance on a stage nearly naked in front of other men. But that didn
’
t seem to bother him. It gave her a funny feeling, but she supposed he was raised with more liberal parents than her stuffy old dad. She knew Patrick loved her and just wanted the best for them.

“
Think about the money we
’
d have, baby,
”
he said.
“
We could get a really nice apartment, eat out all the time and go to fun places.
”

“
Do you really think I should?
”
She said, sipping the hot chocolate she
’
d ordered to top off her pancakes. She always ate too much sweet stuff when she was stressed.

“
Your body is gorgeous,
”
Patrick said, squeezing her hand.
“
What
’
s wrong with making a little money off the way you look? You
’
re luckier than most girls. You
’
ve got everything
–
legs, boobs, a fantastic ass and a beautiful face.
”

She flushed with pleasure. Nobody had ever complimented her the way he did. It made her feel like a real woman, not a stupid high school girl.

“
It seems kind of creepy,
”
she said.
“
What if men grab at me?
”

“
That won
’
t happen. I
’
ll be around, and they
’
ve got bouncers.
”

“
Maybe I should try for a waitress job.
”

“
You
’
ll have bad hours, crabby people and you won
’
t make any money.
”

He dug in his back pocket, took out some folded bills and put a twenty down on their grease-spotted ticket. The plump waitress in a too-tight pink uniform picked up the bill and went away to make change.

“
She
’
ll get two bucks from us, which doesn
’
t add up to much in this old town,
”
Patrick said.
“
Do you really want to work that hard for so little dough?
”

“
Not really,
”
Betsy said.
“
Will you still love me if I
’
m dancing up there on a stage for other guys?
”

“
You
’
ll be dancing for me, baby, and don
’
t you forget it,
”
he said with a wink.

The waitress brought back the change and he slapped two dollars on the table. They walked out hand in hand and he kissed her at the door of his black pickup.

“
Let
’
s go have some fun. I want to take you to Galveston where I can show you off in your little red bikini.
”

CHAPTER 22

Annie got to the office on Wednesday with eyes that felt like they
’
d been rubbed with sandpaper. She
’
d lain awake most of the night after returning from Nate
’
s funeral in Waco. It had been one of the most wrenching experiences of her life. She had gone with several of the paper
’
s top editors and a handful of the younger reporters, including Travis. Nate
’
s mother, father and younger sister had behaved with quiet dignity and didn
’
t say anything to reproach her or the other
Times
editors, but she
’
d felt unreasonably guilty and helpless since Nate
’
s body had been discovered.