Chapter Five

 

Eric climbed into the old minivan and started the engine. Then he pulled the phone from his pocket and placed it in the cup holder where he could see the screen. “Did you sense anything about those two in there?”

The phone chimed before he finished asking the question. I THINK THAT ENERGY I FELT WAS CENTERED AROUND THAT WOMAN, BUT OTHER THAN THAT, THERE WASN’T ANYTHING UNUSUAL

Eric nodded. He inserted the travel charger into the cigarette lighter and then plugged in the phone. He wasn’t going to risk running the battery dead on this trip. Then he backed out into the driveway and started down the long, gravel road toward the highway.

OF COURSE, IT WAS HARD TO GET A GOOD READ OF THE PLACE WITH YOU OGLING HER LIKE THAT

“I was not ogling anything!” snapped Eric.

RELAX. I’M JUST KIDDING

But Eric found it difficult to relax. He felt on edge. He was still angry about having to leave things so messed up between him and Karen.

BUT YOU’RE OBVIOUSLY ATTRACTED TO HER

“I think she’s attractive. I’m not attracted to her. There’s a difference.”

IF YOU SAY SO

“I do say so. Why are we talking about this? It’s stupid. We’re supposed to be trying to figure out what’s going on around here.”

SORRY

Eric sighed. Now he felt bad. He hadn’t meant to be snippy with Isabelle. She had nothing to do with it. “It’s fine. I’m sorry.”

WHY DON’T YOU JUST CALL KAREN?

“She’s pissed off at me.”

THAT DOESN’T MEAN SHE WON’T WANT TO HEAR YOU’RE OKAY

“I know.” But the fact was that Karen was always the one who called him. Until today. She must be really mad at him to not have called even once to see where he was or what he was doing. He couldn’t remember the last time she was so angry with him.

SHE DOESN’T HATE YOU

“I know. But she doesn’t like me very much today.”

SHE LOVES YOU. THAT’S WHY SHE’S MAKING ME CALL HER EVERY HOUR TO TELL HER WHERE YOU ARE

Eric blinked, surprised. “You’re what?”

I CALLED TO SEE IF SHE WAS ALL RIGHT AFTER YOU LEFT. SHE MADE ME PROMISE. DON’T BE MAD

“I’m not mad.” And it was true. In fact, it was a good thing. It took some of the edge off this unnerving silent treatment. If she was making Isabelle report back to her, it meant she didn’t feel the need to check in herself, so she could hold onto her grudge longer. It didn’t necessarily mean that she was so mad that she no longer cared where he was or what kind of trouble he was getting into.

I’M GLAD

He followed Delphinium’s directions down several more narrow country roads to an ugly, squatty building with a dusty, gravel parking lot at a highway intersection in the middle of nowhere.

Eric cursed. This wasn’t going to do anything to make things better with Karen. He stared up at the sign, hardly believing what he was reading.

The place was a strip club.

“‘The Dirty Bunny,’” he read aloud. “Really? That’s seriously the name of the place?”

Did he really have to go in there?

The last two times he did this sort of thing, he didn’t have someone calling the shots. He just did what came natural. He never had someone telling him where to go and what to do next. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

But then again, he also never had anyone to tell him why the hell he was there before. At least this time he had some idea what to expect. Right from the start, he knew that he was rescuing witches from some kind of dark wizard.

Yesterday, he was folding laundry. Today he was a Midwestern Harry Potter.

He killed the engine and stepped out of the van, grumbling about how stupid a name “Dirty Bunny” was for a strip club. How did anyone take something like that seriously?

There were already quite a few cars parked in the lot. In a few more hours, he suspected there would be vehicles lining both sides of the road. Even in these longest days of summer, it seemed a little weird to him that people would come here before dark. It just didn’t seem like the kind of place any self-respecting person would ever want to visit in broad daylight. (Or anytime, for that matter.)

And yet, here he was.

He stepped through the front doors and into a small, dark space where a massive man in a western shirt and baseball cap with an American eagle embroidered over the bill sat on an uncomfortable-looking stool next to an old cash register. Loud music thrummed from a curtained doorway to the right and the place reeked of cigarettes, spilled beers and even a hint of that awful fake fog stuff.

The big man at the little register didn’t have much in the way of people skills, but he looked like he’d be adept at escorting people out and making sure they didn’t walk back in.

It cost him eleven dollars just to continue past this point.

He decided not to point out that he could see the same damn stuff on his home computer for free, if he really wanted to.

This was stupid.

He stepped through the curtain and found himself walking down a long ramp toward the rear of the building. On his left, the floor of the club was spread out before him. There were three small stages protruding from the curtains in the front wall. Two of them were occupied. Two young women were putting on a show. The brunette was dressed like an American Indian, but not for much longer. She was already slithering out of her deer hide two-piece. Eric’s first thought was that the choice in outfit was probably profoundly offensive to the Native American people. His second thought was that the historical inaccuracies of the outfit would have sent his friend and fellow faculty member at Creek Bend High School, Chad Whelt, into a raving tantrum.

The second woman was a petit redhead. She was already stark naked. She wore nothing more than a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, a necktie and a garter.

Sexy librarian, maybe? Naughty secretary?

Eric felt terribly uncomfortable here. He just wanted to leave.

Two more of the club’s women were out on the floor, flirting with the men in the audience. One was tall and looked to be in her mid-thirties, with short, black hair. She wore nothing but four-inch stiletto heels. She appeared to be taking drink orders and trolling for tips. The other was a younger, curvy blonde in cowboy boots and a cowboy hat. She’d made herself comfortable on the lap of one of three middle-aged men at a table in the front corner.

Maybe it was her break time.

Except for the four women, there was little else to look at in the room. The décor was something between stark and bland. It was dark, except for the stage, which was flooded with harsh, colorful lights. There were no windows. It was claustrophobic. The tables were crammed together so that there was barely a path to walk. The most comfortable seats looked like the booths along the far wall, but most of those were already taken.

The clientele was mostly blue collar workers knocking back beers after work. Only a few of them seemed to be alone, and those few already looked half-smashed.

The bar was impressive, though. It took up half the rear wall, with two bartenders bustling behind it. One was a short, slick-looking bald man that Eric for some reason immediately did not trust. He reminded him for some reason of a sleazy used car salesman. But the other was a somewhat plump, friendly-looking blonde.

Please let it be her, he thought as he approached the bottom of the ramp.

He had to step aside to let two of the bar’s bouncers by. They were both huge, like the guy at the cash register. Where the hell did they find these guys? He thought bouncers were supposed to look like heavyweight wrestlers. These guys were built more like sumo wrestlers. While they sported massive arms and legs and necks, it was impossible to see any actual muscle tone. They looked less like bouncers than the guys who ate the bouncers.

Another was lingering near the bottom of the ramp, watchfully observing the room. This one had a large, round, bearded head that was almost completely covered in soft, brown hair. Eric thought he looked like an enormous, chubby monkey, although he had no intention of telling him so.

He intentionally walked past the slick bald man and approached the bar in front of the blonde. Raising his voice to be heard over the loud music, he said, “I’m looking for Holly.”

In a perfect world, the woman would have replied that she was Holly and that she could talk to him right now, outside, far from the naked people. But instead, she pointed over his shoulder. “That’s her on stage two,” she told him. “The redhead.”

Eric thought a very bad word, but managed to smile and thank the nice bartender for her help.

Taking a deep breath, he turned around and walked toward the stage, weaving around the cramped tables as he went.

He hadn’t looked very closely at either of the women who were dancing. He didn’t want to. It was embarrassing. Besides, he was a married man. He had no business even being here. But now he actually had to talk to one of them.

He watched her as he approached. She had long, wavy hair, tied back in a cute little ponytail that dangled almost to the small of her back. It was natural, he saw to his dismay. The carpet matched the curtains, his brother would’ve said.

He felt his whole face growing hot. God, he hated this.

She was remarkably pretty, with a cute little upturned nose and pouty lips. She was small, but long-legged, with a tiny waist and perfect, larger-than-average breasts. She also had a little star tattoo on her hip.

He didn’t know much about this kind of dancing, but he thought she was remarkably good at it. Her movements were almost fluid. She never quite stopped moving.

He stopped between the last two rows of tables and glanced around at the other spectators around him. Most were actually only half watching the show. They looked more concerned with their drinks and conversations. Did these people really spend so much time here that these girls had become little more than background noise?

Something seemed terribly wrong about that.

Glancing at the stage on the left, he saw that the other woman had come completely out of her costume now and was shaking a massive pair of fake breasts at her audience.

He should’ve ordered a drink while he was at the bar.

Suddenly, he felt slender fingers on his shoulder. “Can I get you anything, handsome?”

Eric turned toward the voice and found himself staring at the tall woman with the short, black hair.

No, what he was staring at was her naked breasts. She was considerably taller than he’d first thought. With the stilettos on, he found himself at eye-level with…well…not her eyes. He jerked his head upward and forced himself to meet her gaze. “No, thank you,” he stammered. “I’m just meeting someone.”

She gave him an amused smile. “I can keep you company until they arrive, if you want.”

“That’s nice of you, but I’m not very talkative.”

“You don’t have to talk.”

Eric wasn’t sure what to say to that. He had the distinct feeling that she was enjoying making him feel uncomfortable. Maybe she could sense that he wasn’t like the other patrons here, that he didn’t come here just to stare at naked women. Maybe she found him disarming.

Or maybe he simply looked like the kind of sucker who would just keep handing her his money until he was broke.

“I’m fine. Thanks.”

She swept her sultry eyes up and down him and smiled. She gave his cheek a gentle caress with her fingers and said, “Let me know if you change your mind.” Then she turned away, making sure to brush her naked bottom against the back of his hand as she did.

And now that’s happened, he thought as she walked sexily away from him.

He turned his gaze back to the girl he came here for. He needed to get this over with. But how the hell was he supposed to talk to her up there?

His cell phone chimed at him. The sound was lost under the blaring music, but he felt the little vibration it gave when he received a text.

I THINK YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO PUT MONEY IN HER GARTER THINGY

“Oh dear god no.”

YOU WANT TO LET HER KNOW YOU’RE HERE OR NOT?

Eric sighed. He supposed she was right. What if she finished her dance and disappeared into the dressing room or something. He couldn’t waste time waiting for a convenient moment to catch her alone.

He tried to remember if he had any singles in his wallet.

DON’T BE A CHEAPSKATE. AT LEAST GIVE HER A TEN

“It cost me eleven just to get in here!”

Suddenly, his vision was eclipsed by a massive figure directly in front of him. He looked up from the phone and found himself staring into the expansive chest of one of the club’s elephantine bouncers. This one had a burly moustache that looked like it would make it hard to enjoy an ice cream cone.

“No pictures,” the giant boomed at him.

Eric stared up at him, not comprehending. Then he looked down at his phone again and understood. “Oh. No. Just a text. From my wife,” he lied. He lifted the phone and showed it to him.

The massive man bent slightly and examined the phone’s screen. Then he let out a huff of a laugh and nodded. “Just remember. No pictures allowed. Respect the ladies, please.”

Eric nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The man looked at the phone again and shook his head, his moustache rippling with a grin. Then he lumbered away.

Eric looked at the screen, curious about what made the man laugh.

IF I FIND OUT YOU’RE AT THAT DISGUSTING BAR AGAIN, I SWEAR I’LL FEED YOUR BALLS TO THE DOG!

“Nice.”

GLAD TO HELP

Eric stuffed the phone back into his pocket and withdrew his wallet.

A ten? Really? “If Karen finds out about this, I’m telling her it was all you.”

He pushed his way past the last row of tables and stepped up to the stage. The girl barely looked old enough to be here. She was nineteen at most. What kind of hard life must have led her into an existence like this?

Now how was he supposed to do this? Should he wash his hands first or something?

He glanced around the room. This was so embarrassing. He hoped the colorful lights up here hid the bright red blush he felt creeping into his cheeks.

She caught sight of him standing there with his money in hand and danced gracefully toward him. She did a few turns and dips for him and then dropped into a far-too revealing sort of squat directly in front of his face and bit her lip seductively.

Oh dear Jesus, he thought.

Up close, she was even lovelier. She had remarkably pretty eyes. They were bluish green, almost teal. Trying hard to meet those eyes and nothing else, he raised his voice just enough to be heard over the music and said, “Delphinium sent me for you.”

Immediately, the girl’s expression changed from playfully seductive to surprised and then rapidly to worried. She glanced quickly around the room and then regained her composure.

She never stopped dancing. She was good. He guessed…

She turned to the side, offering him her garter.

Awkwardly, and still blushing like a schoolgirl, he slid Alexander Hamilton between the lacy strap and the silky smooth skin of her thigh.

He loved Karen. With all his heart. After this day was over, he hoped to God she let him live.

“Have a seat in one of the booths,” she told him, her small voice barely audible over the loud music. She gestured toward the side of the room. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Then she blew him a kiss and gave him a playful shake of her naked chest.

That was for the other people in the bar, he realized, so no one would be suspicious, he guessed. Probably so she wouldn’t get in trouble. She was working, after all. On duty, as it was…

She stood up and gracefully floated across the stage, turning her attention to another admirer who had approached on the other side of the stage.

Overhead, a crackly voice on the audio system announced the arrival of someone named Limber Lucy and a dark haired, skinny woman who looked to be in her late thirties emerged onto the third stage in a revealingly short, skin-tight dress adorned in patriotic stars and stripes.

He didn’t think she was there to rally everyone to vote.