Roger frowned and leaned on the bar top. “I mean, I wasn’t there to see it, but it couldn’t have been anyone else. She hated Wendy. Resented having a kid. Everyone knew it too. My girlfriend was amazing. She was so smart. She was going to be a lawyer. Can you believe that?” He picked up a rag from under the counter and scrubbed vigorously at a stain that wasn’t there. “You won’t see me shedding a tear for her mom.”
“Whatever happened to the hammer?”
Roger shrugged. “I always thought Meredith gave it to Ricky.”
I felt myself lean closer. “Why?”
“I spent more time in the same room with that ass-clown than I ever wanted. He always used to brag about the safe he kept in a little room somewhere behind the dancers’ dressing room. Ricky was always saying that if cops ever came after him, they’d never find anything. Whateveranythingwas supposed to mean…. Meredith had him agree to her bogus story, so I figured she ran to him after, he hid the hammer in his safe, and it hasn’t been seen since.”
THE DOORto Ricky’s was locked. And it had started raining again.
I moved to a nearby doorway, standing under the little awning and watching my target. No one came or left. I guess lap dances weren’t popular at just after one on a workday. The sky cracked and roared, and a bright flash of lightning tore in between skyscrapers. The rain came in a sudden torrent, rushing down the streets and into drains, washing out the sidewalk, and causing other pedestrians to make mad dashes for awnings like I had.
“Jesus,” I swore, stuffing my hands into my pockets and suppressing a shiver as the wind picked up.
What am I doing?
Being a busybody, that’s what I was doing. I wasn’t somewhere safe, like I should have been. I wasn’t listening to Calvin, and I hadn’t learned my lesson. I wanted to see this through to the possibly bitter end.
I wanted to prove Meredith Brown killed her daughter, just like the note told me to do. Because I wanted to know what would happen next. I wanted it to bring me closer to who had blown up my home and killed people. And I wanted to understand the Barnum connection when there appeared to be no rhyme or reason.
So I stood there scowling and waiting.
The violence of the sudden storm eased over the course of about thirty minutes, but it was still coming down at a steady and freezing rate when a big delivery van came to a stop, double-parking outside of Ricky’s. A guy jumped out of the passenger seat and moved around the back to hoist up the door. From my view it looked like furniture inside, and I suspected some sort of party rental shop. A second man came around the back from the driver’s side, and they both started pulling carefully packed items from the van.
The door to Ricky’s swung open next, and a guy stepped out briefly to shout something I couldn’t make out, motion with his hands, and then prop the door open for the movers. He vanished back inside afterward. I perked up, watching for someone else to come out or something to happen, but the door just stood open, and despite the rain, the movers took their sweetass time.
I stepped out from under the awning, hunching my shoulders as rain found its way down the back of my collar. I walked by the front door, glancing inside. It was dim and hard to make much out, but no one stood there to block me from entering.
“Should have had this shit delivered on pallets,” one mover griped. “Cheap fuck.”
“I’m too old to be breaking my back like this,” the other said.
All right, so they weren’t paying any attention. I looked back at the door and took a step inside before I could think too much about the consequences.
The club’s lights were low. The place was bedazzled with Valentine’s Day decorations, which was a little strange if you asked me. Loads of gaudy paper hearts and cupids hung from the ceiling. The tables had fake candles and what looked like plastic rose petals thrown across them.
How romantic.
I hastily walked through the throng of smaller tables and past the main stage. A stairwell near the back led upstairs, but once I got close, the sign indicated Private Parties. Not what I wanted. Definitely not. I found another door, though, and that said Employees Only, so I walked right in.
I entered a short hall with three more doors. The first stood ajar and I peeked inside, but it was only a supply closet. The door right beside it was closed, and I could hear a muffled, one-sided conversation. My gut told me it was the same man who’d gone out to greet the movers, since I hadn’t seen any other employees yet.
Maybe he wasTheRicky?
I moved to the right side of the hall and glanced into the last open door. It was a fairly large dressing room, dark except for one of those makeup mirrors turned on near the back. It cast a weird, sort of uncomfortable glow in the room, and if I hadn’t heard the office door opening behind me, I might not have gone inside.
“Yeah, I’ll give you a call back,” Suspect-Ricky said as he walked into the hall.
I dove into the dressing room, bumping into chairs and getting tangled in a robe left on the floor. I looked behind me to see his shape silhouetted against the brightness of the hallway.
“Yesterday,” he said. “Meredith was my best goddamn dancer. No. Split her bookings between Abby and Jess. They should be able to handle it.”
The show must go on, I guess.
“Look, I’ve got guys moving shit in here for the V-Day shindig. I need to go pay them. All right, yeah, bye.”
I stumbled farther into the room and ducked behind a rack of clothes when Ricky turned in my direction. I held my breath, peeking behind a few garments to see him enter and make his way directly toward me.
