Chapter Six

 

Eric bought a beer at the bar. He really felt like he needed it.

On his way back to the booth, he pulled out his cell phone again. “How do you know so much about strip club etiquette, anyway?”

THIRTY-SEVEN YEARS OF WATCHING TELEVISION THROUGH MY DAD’S HEAD, OF COURSE

That made sense. Eric sometimes forgot that she had the same connection with her parents that she had with him. She didn’t talk about them much. As far as they knew, she was dead. They hadn’t seen her in thirty-seven years.

She could just call them up now that she was no longer trapped inside the Altrusk house, but what would she say? They’d think it was a cruel joke.

Her connection to them was how she’d kept up with the world outside her strange prison walls. She saw the everyday world through them. They read the paper and watched the news and enjoyed prime time television. Therefore, so did she. It was why she didn’t talk like a girl from the seventies, and why she knew so much. Her mind was sharp and fairly well-informed. She had all the mental advantage of a well-read forty-nine-year-old with all the physical capabilities of a thirteen-year-old.

He found an empty booth and sat down with his back to the stage. He didn’t care to see Lucy unfurl her flags. And he’d seen more than enough of Pocahontas’ wigwams, too. He’d never been so uncomfortable in his life. His mouth was dry. His stomach was in knots. And he was pretty sure his blood pressure was up.

An old man with a straggly beard stumbled toward him, sloshing a good portion of what was clearly not his first beer of the evening onto the floor, and seated himself at the nearest table. Eric watched him as he sat and turned his attention to the dancing girls. It didn’t look like his eyes wanted to focus. He scrunched up his face, closed one eye, tilted his head to one side, then the other. Then he lifted a shaky finger and pointed at each of the girls. He looked like he was trying to determine exactly how many of them were up there.

Before he could finish counting, the tall, short-haired woman strolled past in her stilettos and his one open eye and wobbly finger wandered after her instead.

He couldn’t quite decide if the old man was amusing or just sad.

His phone rang. It was Karen.

Eric groaned. Just who he wanted to talk to while sitting in a room with five naked women.

But at least she’d finally decided to call.

“Hello?” he begrudgingly answered.

“Where are you?”

“It was a long drive and I’m tired, but thanks for asking.”

“I said, where are you?”

“I know. I thought it was kind of rude. You’re not very good at taking a hint.”

“You really want to talk about poor manners?”

Eric sighed. She wasn’t much fun when she lost her sense of humor. “I’m in some bar in some cornfield in some backwoods county in Illinois.”

“You’re in a bar?”

“I needed a drink.”

Ordinarily she rolled with his silly remarks, but that was clearly the wrong thing to say. “Our check-in is at two o’clock Friday afternoon. I specifically requested an early check-in.”

“I’ll be there. Don’t—”

“You are not going to embarrass me by making me explain to the hotel desk why we requested an early check-in if we weren’t going to get there early—”

“I don’t see why they’d make you explain…”

“—just because you needed a drink.”

“I’ll be back in time.”

“What kind of music is that?”

“What music? I can’t hear anything over this noise.”

“Cute. I thought you went down there to help that kid’s mom.”

“I am.”

“By getting loaded in a bar?”

“Who’s getting loaded? I’m having one beer while I wait to meet someone.”

“Isabelle told me she was hot.”

Eric sat up straighter. “What? Who’s hot?”

“The kid’s mom.”

Delphinium? “Why would Isabelle tell you that?”

“Because I asked her.”

“Why would you ask something like that?”

“Is she?”

“Is she what?”

“Is she hot?”

“I don’t know! She’s not my type.”

“Isn’t she?”

“No. You’re my type.”

“Then why aren’t you here with me getting ready for our anniversary weekend?”

He was beginning to think she was actually enjoying this. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“Why can’t you come home now?”

A wave of anger washed through him. “Because this is important,” he snapped. “People are dying down here.”

The loud music abruptly stopped and a voice boomed over the speakers. “Let’s give a big round of applause for the always gorgeous Holly!”

Eric let his head thump against the surface of the table as the room filled with the enthusiastic sounds of clapping and whistling.

“What did that guy just say?” demanded Karen.

“I didn’t catch it,” groaned Eric. “Something about this being the worst road trip ever, I think.”

“Are you in a strip bar?”

“It wasn’t my idea. I swear.”

“You’re in a strip bar!”

“One of the girls who’s in danger works here.”

“So you’re there for one of the strippers?”

Oh god… “Maybe…”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“I wish I was.” He should never have answered the damn phone. What possessed him to answer the damn phone? That was stupid. Why couldn’t he stop doing stupid things?

“Tell Isabelle to call me right now!” she snapped. And then she was gone.

“Hello?” He looked down at the phone. The screen now read, “Call ended.”

While he was staring at it, a text message popped up: OH GREAT, NOW YOU GOT ME IN TROUBLE TOO

Eric dropped the phone onto the table and took a large swig from his beer.

Could this day get any worse?

The answer, of course, was yes.

Holly appeared beside him. “Sorry about that.”

Eric looked up at her and almost choked on his beer. He thought she was going to put her clothes back on, but here she was sliding into the booth next to him, still wearing nothing but the necktie and garter. All she’d done was take off the glasses.

He looked away and took another swig from his beer.

“If I don’t stay out there the full time, I get in trouble. Have to please the customers.”

Right, he thought. Wouldn’t want the pervos to revolt.

She was sitting far too close to him for comfort, her thigh actually pressed against his. “I’m on break, but I’m still not really supposed to be socializing. You want me to give you a lap dance so we look like we’re being professional?”

“Please no,” he begged, not even bothering to point out that the words “lap dance” and “professional” had very little business being used in the same sentence together. “I’m just here to take you back to Delphinium.”

He looked around the room, embarrassed, and saw that the old man at the next table was now sitting with his head propped on one hand, starring sleepily at Holly with a wistful sort of smile on his shriveled face.

Eric could hardly blame the poor man.

Holly sat with her back straight, her body turned toward him and her naked breasts thrust proudly forward. There was a light sheen of sweat upon her skin from dancing, so that she glistened in the colorful lights. He could see a faint dusting of glitter on her cheeks and breasts.

Meanwhile, those lovely eyes were wide and concerned. So much about her looked so innocent. It was such a stark contrast to this place and what she was doing that he could scarcely comprehend it.

“How do you know Del?” she asked.

Eric wasn’t sure how to proceed.

Her soft eyes widened a little more. “Is this about what happened to Grandpa?”

Eric nodded. “You’re in danger.”

Holly clasped one small hand over her mouth. The gesture was adorable.

“It’ll be okay. But we need to get you out of here now.”

She reached out and placed her hand over his. If he’d been ten years younger and single, he was sure her touch would be intoxicating. Instead, it just made that hot, slimy knot in his belly that much tighter. “That’s what Del said?”

Eric nodded.

She stared deeply into his eyes, as if searching for something. He wanted to look away, but he didn’t dare let his eyes wander for fear of where they might come to rest.

Finally, she nodded, as if having found what she was looking for. “Okay then. Wait here a second.” She stood up and hurried off across the room.

He took the opportunity to down the rest of his beer and then pushed the mug away.

His cell phone chimed at him.

SHE MUST BE REALLY PRETTY. YOUR HEART IS TOTALLY RACING RIGHT NOW

“I thought you were talking to Karen.”

I WAS. SHE SAID TO WATCH YOU AND LET HER KNOW IF SHE NEEDED TO DRIVE DOWN HERE AND SHOOT YOU

“Thanks a lot.”

HAPPY TO HELP

He looked out into the bar and spied Holly talking to the chubby monkey bouncer. Almost completely naked and tiny as a pixie by comparison, she looked more surreal than ever.

Again, Eric scanned the room. A couple of middle-aged men at a nearby table were staring at Holly with hungry expressions, but otherwise, everyone’s eyes were either on the stages, the tall, black-haired woman, the cowgirl or on their drinks. The old man appeared to have nodded off. Nothing seemed out of place, as far as he could tell.

There didn’t seem to be a dark wizard in the room.

Of course, if there was, he wouldn’t know what such a man would even look like. He probably didn’t resemble Voldemort.

(He still wasn’t sure he was the right person for this job.)

A voice overhead asked for a warm welcome to someone named Margarita, and a sultry, young Latina woman appeared on the center stage wearing tall heels, cutoff shorts, a lose tank top and quite a lot of jewelry.

Some kind of hip-hop theme, he guessed. Or maybe that was just her style. It was hard to say.

The Dirty Bunny didn’t exactly reek of class.

Eric looked back toward the girl he came here for.

Chubby Monkey didn’t look happy. He stood towering over Holly, frowning through his fuzzy beard. But he seemed to reluctantly agree to whatever she was asking of him. He supposed it must be hard to argue with a sweet, gorgeous, butt-naked redhead no matter how big and tough you were.

Holly turned and hurried away. She didn’t come back to the table, but instead darted quickly back toward the front of the room. Eric watched her scamper around the stage with the now completely naked patriotic dancer and disappear into the door that led backstage.

When he turned back again, Chubby Monkey was lumbering toward him.

“Get up,” he said.

“Is there a problem?”

“Get up.”

Eric obediently picked up his phone and stood. The big man seized his arm in a steel grip.

I’m being thrown out, he thought. The girl must have found something about him suspicious. She must have told the bouncer to get rid of him.

What the hell was he supposed to do now? If she refused to hear him out, there was no way he was going to get her out of here. He’d never get past these bouncers. He’d have no choice but to return to Delphinium alone.

As they started moving, Eric realized that they were walking not toward the ramp leading out the front, but toward the same door Holly had disappeared through.

Perhaps they tossed riffraff out the back, where they didn’t upset the other customers. Or where this gorilla could happily beat him into pulp and throw him out into the cornfield without any witnesses…

“I like your beard,” he told the bouncer as they crossed the floor. “Looks soft. Do you condition?”

The big man’s beady eyes washed over him, but he didn’t respond. Eric would never know, he supposed. He wished he had something to defend himself with.

Or a banana.

They ducked through the doorway (well, one of them ducked; Eric didn’t have to) and slipped into a dark, empty corridor.

Eric glanced through an open door and caught sight of a plain-looking, middle-aged woman with huge implants. She appeared to have taken a break in the middle of putting on her costume to smoke a cigarette. She sat looking back at him, completely topless and wearing a bored expression on her face.

About halfway down the hall, they passed the bouncer with the big moustache. Eric found himself mashed up against the wall as the two brutes squeezed past each other.

He caught a glimpse of a blonde in a nurse costume and felt such an overwhelming sense of surrealism that he actually stumbled a little. He was beginning to wonder if this really could all just be a very bad dream.

Then, abruptly, he was steered to the right and through a door, into a small room littered with cheap costumes and accessories. Here, he was finally released.

Holly was here. She’d removed her tie and garter and was pulling on a cute pair of frilly pink and white panties.

“Mitch is going to give me hell when I tell him I let you leave early,” the bouncer told her.

“I know,” she told him, turning to look at him with only her panties on. Those pouty lips were hard to resist. “But it’s an emergency. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

He stood there, staring at her.

“I’ll make you some more of those cookies you like so much. How about that?”

He stared at her a little longer. Eric didn’t think cookies were going to cut it with this guy. But then he said, “With the macadamia nuts?”

She smiled up at him with those pretty eyes. “I know what you like.”

The big guy sighed. “Fine.”

Holly stepped forward and gave him a brief hug. As she did, he stiffened, and his beady eyes grew bigger. He looked uncomfortable.

“Thanks, Norval. You’re the best.”

Eric looked up at him again. “Norval?”

The big, furry man took a step toward him, swelling. “You got a problem with my name?”

“Not at all. I like it. Reminds me of Scooby Doo. Shaggy’s real name was Norval, wasn’t it?”

He stared at him for a moment, as if trying to decide where to punch him. Then he said, “I like Shaggy.”

“Me too. He was my favorite.”

“Spelled different, though.”

“Is it?”

“It is.” This fact seemed to make him a little sad.

Holly slipped into a little blue jean skirt and then sat down and pulled on a pair of pink sneakers. He wished she’d hurry up and put a top on.

“You better not get any funny ideas,” Norval warned him. “Holly’s not like some of those other bimbos. She’s a good girl.”

Eric held up his hand as if swearing scouts honor. “Absolutely not,” he assured him. “I’m married.”

“Sorry,” said Holly, hopping up again. “I’m hurrying.”

She slipped into a bra that matched her panties and then quickly put on a yellow tank top over it. Then she grabbed her purse and turned around. “I’m ready.”

That feeling of surrealism washed over Eric again as he realized that he was only now seeing what she looked like dressed.

Norval led them back out of the room and then all the way to the end of the hallway to a cramped storage room and an emergency exit that opened out the back. As he pushed the door open, revealing the vast green of the cornfield stretching out behind the building, they heard shouting from the far end of the hallway.

It sounded like some sort of commotion on the dance floor.

Norval turned and looked back the way they came. “What’s that all about?”

Eric felt a familiar dread creep into his belly. Something was happening. And he was sure it had something to do with why he was here. “We should go,” he told Holly as Norval set off back down the hallway to see what was going on.

“Wait,” she said, looking after him. “Something’s wrong.”

“I think you’re right. And that’s exactly why we should leave. Now.”

But she didn’t leave. “Emily,” she breathed, and then she bolted back down the hallway before he could ask her who Emily was.

He cursed. They were so close! They were at the door! He’d seen the sunlight in the dusty cornfield, smelled the hot, July breeze. It was all right there… Right through that door…

The fire alarm went off. The voice on the loudspeaker shouted something Eric couldn’t understand over all the noise, and a half-dozen women in all states of undress emerged from their dressing rooms to see what was going on, crowding the narrow hallway.

Holly disappeared into the crowd.