The next afternoon, Roxy parked in a front spot in the large parking garage next to Diamonds Gentlemen’s Club, behind the large drive-up lane reserved for valet and drop-offs—probably with some large limousine. Everyone became a baller when they came to Vegas.
She approached the tall gold door of the club, where normally a large hulking man loomed with an iPad, scowling at the world because he obviously hated his life of excluding the simple people. Or maybe he really liked it. Either way, there was no bouncer here now.
She tried the knob, hoping it wasn’t locked. It was much easier to find a person when you could get in the building—and not walk through the hotel where Rafe would be watching the cameras.
The knob turned, and the door opened onto a dark, expansive room with red leather couches and chairs, plus a few small white tables. There were four raised platforms, each one wth a silver pole in the center. It was too dark to see clearly, but Roxy thought there was a stepladder on the biggest platform, the one at the back of the room.
Soft lighting ran along the floor below the bar. A man wearing headphones mopped the floor, and given the way he shook his hips, he wasn’t cut out to be a dancer any more than Roxy.
She needed to find a manager and get Amethyst’s number or address. Then she could leave. Or maybe say hi to Rafe. It seemed silly to come all this way, not say hi and oogle his googles.
Not that she had time to oogle anyone’s googles. Yeah, she heard the ridiculousness of it all—the words and the thoughts. She didn’t need to be reminded. Stop judging.
“We don’t open for twenty minutes.”
Roxy jumped, and she looked up to see the man leaning on the mop handle, talking to her. “I’m not here for the show. I was hoping to see a manager.”
He sneered. “Dave? Why? You want a job?” Whether it was an appreciative sneer or “you don’t have the body of a dancer”, she wasn’t sure. Nor did she want to know.
She already knew she carried one too many donuts in the junk in her trunk. It wasn’t a secret. No matter how much Victoria tried to hide it. “I need to find a friend of mine, Amethyst.”
“I go by Amy when I’m not on stage.” A woman’s voice came from the stage with the ladder. She finished wiping the pole and stepped onto the platform. Her blond hair was rolled into curlers, and she wore a tiny red robe. Below the robe were black stockings held up by a garter belt. The red sneakers probably weren’t part of her performance outfit. The woman eyed Roxy suspiciously. “Do I know you?”
“Not really. I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have a minute?” Roxy asked her.
“I just have to get my workspace ready.” Amy-Amethyst rested her hand on her belly. A little pooch was beginning to show, and Roxy was sure if the lighting was better, she’d see a glow on the woman’s skin. “I go on right after we open.”
“I’ll keep it short.” Hopefully. “I wanted to offer my condolences. Were you dating Donnie Dunne?”
Amethyst winced and dropped the towel. “I was more than dating him. We were engaged.”
Engaged, huh. So not broken up. “That’s so hard.” Especially on account of the bigamy.
“It has been.” Amy climbed down the ladder and stepped down the stairs to the main floor. “I just miss him so much.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“Saturday afternoon at the hotel.”
“You were there?”
“He used my discount to get the room. I figured I’d take a nap before I went on that night. It’s hard working that late when you’re moving around for two.” The maternal glow seemed to seep from her pores.
“Did you go back to the room that night?”
“I was going to go back after my shift. He had a meeting with some financer or something.”
“Do you know the name of this financer?”
“Henry. Hank. Some old guy name with an H.”
“Harold?”
“Yes.” Amy giggled. “I should’ve remembered that. Like the crayon.”
Roxy blinked. “The crayon?”
“Harold and the Purple Crayon. It was my favorite book growing up. That’s where I got the name Amethyst.”
“So is Amy your real name, then?”
“Yeah.”
Since Amethyst was an Amy, there was little chance the jacket in the hotel room belonged to her. “How about a jacket with the initials SBM? Is that yours? Or do you know whose it could be?”
“SBM? Steve?” The lights over the stages flickered on and Amethyst squinted. “Who did you say you were with? I need to finish getting ready.” Now she sounded distinctly unfriendly.
“I’m with the hotel.” Roxy might have mumbled that last part. Amethyst seemed to like to talk about the baby and Donnie, so Roxy just had to keep her on that topic and away from things that seemed to annoy her. “Were you and Donnie together long?”
“Four months. It doesn’t seem like a long time, but it’s the quality, you know? We were soulmates.” A tear slid down her face. “He was everything to me. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Either she was telling the truth, or this woman was good. She looked heartbroken and the tears were flowing. The devastation was coating the air. This didn’t sound a like a woman Donnie had left.
“Were you and Donnie still together?”
“What do you mean?” Amethyst swiped a finger under eyes and then placed her hands back on her baby-bump.
“Did Donnie break up with you?”
“No. Like I said, we were engaged. We were planning on leaving. He was selling his company so we could move closer to my parents.”
“Where were you moving?” Part of Roxy hoped the answer wasn’t Reno. Maybe he was going to actually choose one of these women and not lead some secret sister-wives thing.
“Reno.”
Of course it had to be Reno.
“Donnie just had to pack up his office in Henderson and then he was going to Reno to search for a place for us.”
Well, at least she and the wife agreed on that. Roxy almost wondered if Amethyst knew the wife was moving too. “What about his wife?”
“They were getting a divorce.”
“Did the wife know?” Roxy hadn’t meant to ask that, but her mouth was moving faster than her brain. That happened a lot.
“I’m assuming she did. We were moving away.” Amethyst’s tone changed. Snippy. She didn’t seem to like to talk about the wife.
Roxy needed a bit of redirection. “Is this your first?”
“Baby? Can you tell? I’m just a bundle of nerves.” She giggled. “Donnie would tell me all the time how great a mother I was going to be. You know, his wife wouldn’t give him kids. She didn’t like them or something. What kind of person doesn’t like kids? They’re so cute.”
Roxy tried to keep her face passive. Her thoughts on children weren’t on trial here. It wasn’t that she hated them. They were awesome and cute—when they went home with someone else. “He must have been so excited about the baby.”
“Yeah.” Amy rubbed her hands along her belly. “He called him his little running-back. He said with my athletic ability and his power, the kid would be a football player for the Raiders.”
“You’re having a boy.” This woman’s love for her child and her child’s father gave Roxy a sugar-rush. It was too sweet. Too adorable.
“I am.” A tear pooled in her eye. “My boy won’t have a father. It’s going to be so rough for him.”
“Are you still moving back with your parents?” The question had nothing to do with the investigation. This had to do with a woman having her first baby alone, and grandparents who would probably love to help. If they were anything like Amethyst.
“I’m not sure. My friends are here. My life is here. I don’t want to go.”
A loud ahem came from across the room. Rafe sauntered closer, his black BDUs cinched at his waist and ankles, black boots, and a black button-down shirt. His dark brown hair was sexily disheveled, like he’d just run a hand through. He looked pretty bad-ass— and mad. But then again, Rafe was always mad when Roxy was around, so that wasn’t anything new.
“Why are you here?” Rafe asked.
“I work here?” Amethyst wiped the last of her tears from her eyes. She picked up the towel from the little platform and folded the stepladder.
“I’m sorry, Amy. I wasn’t talking to you.” Rafe picked up the stepladder and focused on Amethyst. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just talking…”
“…with a friend.” Roxy was being helpful. Hopefully, Amethyst wouldn’t contradict her exaggeration. Yes, exaggeration. Roxy liked the woman now that she’d met her. She even asked about her moving in with her parents. Total friend question.
“You’re her friend. Since when?”
“Since…” Roxy didn’t think since five minutes would go over very well. “Who cares?”
“What’s her favorite color?” Rafe was so smug.
Roxy stared at Amy’s robe. “Red.” Her pre-stripping robe and sneakers were red. So that must be her favorite color and if not, she’d just said it with enough conviction that Rafe wouldn’t question it.
Rafe lifted an eyebrow at Amethyst. “What’s your favorite color?”
Or maybe he would.
“Red?”
He folded his arms. “What’s her hobby?”
Stripping was probably not her hobby or her lifelong dream. Although, maybe it was. People had weird aspirations, but it was probably more a step to an aspiration. “Dancing.”
Rafe looked at Amethyst.
She giggled. “I do like to dance.”
“But is that your hobby? Is that what you like to do when you’re not working?” Rafe kept at it, because—well, because he was a jerk.
“No, I like to read romance.”
Read. Romance. Roxy’s smile perked up. They did have something in common.
“Oh, my goodness, Amy. I love romance, too.” Roxy could relate to sitting in bed from the moment she woke up till the sun dipped below the skyline. Forgetting to eat. Taking a Saturday to get lost in a book. “JD Robb is my jam.”
“My jam?” Amy scowled, but in a cute way. “I don’t think people say that anymore. But Rourke is my book boyfriend.”
Roxy was so bonding with Amethyst. Which was nice. She didn’t really have time to make any new besties, but it was ticking off Rafe. Bonus.
He sighed and turned to Roxy. “You should go. We have work to do.”
“Fine.”
“Amy Flannery?” Another male voice Roxy recognized. MacAuley and his partner, Detective Geary, came up behind Roxy and joined their happy little group. Great. It was bad enough Rafe and MacAuley were here. Now she had to deal with the partner. The partner who was glaring at her like she tit-punched his mom.
Geary and MacAuley pulled out badges. They were eyeing Amethyst, but they seemed to have enough eye to go around for Roxy and Rafe, too.
“I’m Amethyst,” she said. Apparently, they weren’t her friends. They didn’t get to call her Amy. “Thank you so much for meeting me here, officers, but I only have a few minutes before I have to go on stage. That was the whole point of meeting here. I can’t miss any performance, or they won’t move me to host job when I get big.”
“Why don’t you get dressed? Take all the time you need, and I’ll tell Dave.” Rafe gestured to a hallway behind the main stage. “There’s an office at the end of the hall if you want privacy,” he said to the cops. “The music will get loud out in the main room.”
Amethyst hurried away, presumably to the dressing rooms. MacAuley started for the door Rafe had pointed to, but the partner just stood there, looking at Roxy with his angry brown eyes. Seriously. She would have remembered if she’d tit-punched anyone. So there’s no way she’d done that to his mother. But there was obviously a problem.
“Do you need something?” Rafe stepped between Geary and Roxy. Like a giant shield. It was incredibly barbaric—and hot. Yes. She realized barbaric and hot should not be in the same sentence. She’d have to forfeit her woman card if she didn’t burn her bra or something after that comment.
“Miss Horne, you need to come to the precinct for questioning today.” Detective Geary handed her a card. Like she needed the address to the police station. She’d lived in Vegas her whole life. She’d driven by them all at one point or another. And maybe been inside one or two of them.
“I thought we were going to do this later,” MacAuley said to Geary.
“Well, I didn’t think we’d be seeing her anytime today. But here she is. I don’t believe in coincidence.”
“You’ve already talked to her.” Rafe’s arms were crossed, and he didn’t seem to like the direction the conversation was taking. Although maybe that was her.
“She failed to mention she was on probation from work a few weeks ago and wasn’t given the Dunne case.” Geary didn’t quite sneer, but it was close.
“So? What does that have to do with anything?” She didn’t realize she had to give them her whole life story. “I also punched Leslie Scott in eighth grade because she stole my boyfriend. I didn’t mention that either.”
Geary was definitely sneering now. “Mr. Dunne was the one who complained, causing your probation. You weren’t allowed to work his case. Why were you?”
All six male eyes bore into Roxy. All of them with questions and judgement. Even the brown-eyed man who had just been her shield.
“I don’t know.” She really hadn’t known. She knew a client complained, but a lot of the time she never met the client. She met the person they were serving. How could she have known he was the one who complained? “I took the case because my coworker was taking his girlfriend to a Golden Knights game. I was helping him out.”
“You’re saying it’s a coincidence.” Detective Geary smirked, which wasn’t much of an improvement. “You might want to work on your story before you stop at the precinct.”
She probably did want to work on her story. The truth was messy. It sounded like an excuse, and now she had to stop at the precinct. She didn’t really have time to come up with a better story today.
Maybe tomorrow.
Could she possibly push it out till next week?