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I glance up at him. “Or he’s getting cocky.”
“That’d be great for us. Cocky means careless, and we need them to be careless.”
“Here they are.” Joshua leaves us standing by the bar to go and meet rainbow-haired Candi and another girl, who’s far less colorful.
Piercing girl has a short asymmetrical haircut dyed jet black, and she’s wearing the usual skinny black dress under a long-sleeved flannel shirt, torn black leggings, and combat boots. Her face has an assortment of jewelry, from her lip to her nose, and all along her eyebrow. Joshua seems out of place still dressed in his work clothes.
The three of them talk, but they don’t come to where we’re standing. Candi glances in my direction, but she acts like she doesn’t know me. The other girl never looks our way.
A new song starts, and the group breaks up. Piercing girl heads out to the dance floor, arms over her head. Candi goes to the door and leaves. Joshua returns to where we’re standing.
“They didn’t have a definite location.” Mark lets out a groan, but Josh is undeterred. “But Rhiannon has acted in the club before. She said there’s a tattoo parlor closer to the park with a back room like a speakeasy.”
“Makes sense,” Mark says, and I look up at him wondering why. “If there’s a raid, they can run into the park and escape, or hide.”
“She suggested we head that direction. I’ve got the address here. I’ll text it to you.”
We’re back on the street walking fast past taverns and bistros, past sushi restaurants, and brew pubs. It’s crowded as always, even though a light drizzle has begun. I pull the hoodie over my head and snuggle close to Mark’s side.
“A tattoo shop with a back room?” Mark looks to Joshua, who’s at my other side.
“Not sure they’re one and the same. They could just share the building.” He shakes his head, watching his feet cover ground. “But I don’t know. All of this is new to me.”
We’re getting closer, and we still don’t have a plan for how to get inside. The security on these places is so tight. Mark knows you have to have the right credentials. I’ve only been inside once, and I’d been roofied.
My mind races for anything that could work when I spot a costume shop ahead.
“I have an idea.” I grip Mark’s arm. “You’re not going to like it, but it’s the only thing that will work at t
his late hour.”
He frowns, but I jog ahead into the elaborately decorated shop. Feather boas, mannequin heads with Pulp Fiction-style wigs in black, blue, hot pink, and rainbow are in the window. I start grabbing supplies.
Ten minutes later, we’re back on the street heading up the last block before we get to the tattoo speakeasy.
“You’re right, I don’t like this.” Mark’s teeth are clenched as he speaks.
“If you have a better idea, I’m all ears. Otherwise, this is the only way.”
Joshua only shakes his head. His jaw has been on the ground since he learned I was a burlesque dancer in New Orleans. Now he just follows my lead.
Stopping at the alley around the corner, I take off the hoodie. “Give me your blazer.”
Josh takes off the grey sharkskin and hands it over. I give him the hoodie, which he pulls over his white dress shirt. He looks more like the Emo kid I’m used to seeing in it.
“Wow,” he says, as I remove the rest of my clothes, leaving me dressed in a black bustier and thigh-high fishnets.
Sky-high black stilettoes complete the look, and I pull the hot pink Pulp Fiction wig over the skullcap stocking on my head. My lips are a deep, sparkling pink, and I’ve painted huge black wings around my eyes.
“I don’t like this at all.” Mark’s eyes are burning.
“I know what I’m doing.” It’s a lie. It’s one of the biggest lies I’ve ever told, but I do have a kernel of an idea. “I know how this place works. I’ll act like I’m supposed to be there, I won’t eat or drink a thing, then when they’re all doing what they do, I’ll see if I can find a door to let you in.”
“Lara…” Mark’s warm hands grip the tops of my shoulders. His blue eyes sear into mine, but he knows I’m right.
We don’t have another choice.
This has to work.
