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“Chin up, Lot,” Keelie says, doing just that. “And think of the pricey handbags we’ll get to buy with all the tips we’ll make.”
We trot back toward the masses as bowling balls aggressively thunder down the lanes. Every now and again a wild cheer breaks out and we see far too much skin and accessory body parts jumping up and down for joy.
Just as I’m about to shove a slice of Canadian bacon and pineapple pizza into my piehole in an attempt to stave off the heebie-jeebies this place is giving me, I spot my mark.
Here’s hoping I can squeeze the naked truth right out of her.
LOTTIE
“There’s she is, Keelie.” I gasp without taking my eyes off the woman as the exhibitionist group known as the Bare Exam bumps and thumps around us while rolling bowling balls down the lanes with the best of them. “Crane Mitchel.” I do my best to point with my nose to the left. “She’s chatting with Carlotta and my mother. I should have figured my mother would track her down eventually. Let’s go.”
“Is she the redhead wearing the thick gold chain?”
“That and nothing else. But then, I guess she wouldn’t pass the Bare Exam if she wore much more.”
We share a quick chortle before we step into their midst.
Thankfully, the neon lights that are illuminating the periphery have chosen not to cast their glow in this area. For the most part, Crane and the rest of the people on her team are lost in the shadows.
“My pizza.” Crane lunges for the plate in my hands and I hold onto it a bit longer than I should before letting her take it. I can’t help it. I really did want a bite. “Thank you. I’ll put a tip on my tab. What’s your name, hon?”
“Oh, Crane.” Mom bounces in front of her, and I do mean bounces. “This is my daughter, Lottie. You met her the other night at Rizzo’s. You know, the night we lost Bella.” Instead of nervously plucking at her blouse as my mother is prone to do, she ends up twisting her left nipple.
Kill me now.
“Oh yes.” Crane cringes. “That awful, awful night.” She takes a bite out of her pizza. “Mmm, anyway. You just missed it. We did a little toast in Bella’s honor before we kicked off the games. She was one of the founding members of the Bare Exam. She had a tendency to get a little wild.”
“Don’t we all,” my mother coos.
Carlotta and the tiny terror among us both glide up. “You’re up next, Miranda,” she pants. “Word of advice. Try bending over and tossing the ball between your legs.”
Mom juts her head forward. “Will it give me an advantage?”
“Maybe not with the pinheads at the end of the alley, but the menfolk sure get a kick out of it.”
“Don’t you dare,” I call out after her before looking back at Crane. I’d better focus on the suspect at hand before it’s her turn at bat—or ball as it were. “Crane, how well did you know poor Bella? Were you close?”
“Pfft.” She rolls her eyes before taking another quick bite out of her pizza. “Bella hated everyone, including herself. She didn’t allow anyone to get too close.”
Weenie floats over and sniffs the pizza in her hand. “What’s with the lemon slices?”
“That’s pineapple,” Carlotta tells him.
“Pineapple upside-down pizza?” Weenie sniffs. “What will they think of next?” he says, wasting no time nibbling on a slice himself.
Crane nods at Carlotta. “I just love this stuff. I can eat pineapple on just about anything.”
Keelie leans in. “Rumor has it, that was the last thing the deceased ate.”
“Oh, it was,” Crane muses. “I saw a slice of her pineapple upside-down birthday cake right next to her body.”
“Did you see Bella head into the alley that night?” I ask, knowing full well the killer saw her go there—or more to the point, lured her in that direction.
“No. The last I saw of her she was speaking to Marlena and some man. We had already finished up our meal by then and I was having one last drink at the bar.”
“You’re my kind of suspect,” Carlotta says as she steals a pizza slice off of the woman’s plate. “Not that we suspect you of killing anyone.” Carlotta makes big eyes in a veiled attempt to cover for me.
I’m going to kill Carlotta.
