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telling me his name never came up during all that time? Wouldn t you want to address
such a devoted client by name?
Maybe he called himself Carl once or twice, Detective. I meet a lot of men. You stop
retaining names after a while. I don t really remember.
A regular client who pulls you offstage and injures you so badly you need a full week
to recover doesn t stand out?
Of course I remember the incident, but& She shrugged.
He leaned forward until he could look her in the eye. Hers were wide and unhappy.
Sorry, but I m still having a tough time with this. You pick up details and you have a
good memory. Last night when I showed up at the crime scene, you recognized me and
remembered my name. I m not even a regular customer, let alone one who s spent
thousands on your private dances. How do you explain your remarkable recall with me?
Eyes down and right, like clockwork. You re a cop. Cops don t blend in, she replied, a
little desperately. But he had to hand it to her. She had a marginally plausible answer for
everything.
So, you re not good with names, or faces?
Even if I was good with faces, how would I have recognized Mr. Long? His face was&
ruined.
True enough. He sighed and shook his head. The medical examiner s preliminary
report sheds some light on his last few hours. Someone hit him on the back of his head
with a blunt object likely a liquor bottle and fractured his skull. That blow pretty much
punched his ticket. He couldn t put up much fight when his assailant slipped on the brass
knuckles and went to work on his face. Needless to say, it wasn t quick or painless.
Her uneven breaths and shimmering eyes made him pause.
Poor man, she whispered.
Everything inside him believed she meant it. Her horror, her compassion, both struck
him as genuine.
I agree. Being beaten to death is a harsh end. It s also a fairly unusual death,
statistically speaking. There were two hundred reported homicides in Los Angeles County
last year, but only a handful of the male victims were beaten to death. If I look for similar
crimes locally, within the last three years, I get a real short list. He rolled his shoulders
and lifted his water bottle to his lips. Sometimes the similar crimes angle is a dead end.
You have a difficult job, Detective.
Trevor, he corrected and took a long drink. Lowering the bottle, he shifted topics. So,
you think if Mr. Long had sustained less blunt force trauma, you might have recognized
him as a Deuces patron?
I don t know.
Let s try another face and see what you recognize. With that, he opened the evidence
envelope again, pulled out a photograph from his cold-case file and tossed it on the table
between them. Recognize this man?
She picked up the photo and stared at the well-groomed, swarthy man, as if
memorizing for a test. Finally, she dropped it and shook her head. No.
His name is Alex Montenegro. Sound familiar?
Again, she shook her head.
Is that a no?
Yes, that s a no. Her irritation came through loud and clear.
Vern indicates he was also one of your regulars, until about eight months ago. At that
time, the LAPD discovered his body in an alley a block from Deuces. He d been beaten to
death, just like Mr. Long. Trevor tossed out another picture of Mr. Montenegro, this one a
lot less flattering.
Her eyes darted to his. I thought you said the similar crimes angle was a dead end?
I said sometimes it s a dead end. Relaxing in his chair, he folded his hands behind his
head and smiled. Not this time, as it turns out. Speaking of similarities, Vern says Mr.
Montenegro behaved improperly during one of your private dances and security escorted
him out against his will. Do you remember the incident?
I don t know& vaguely?
A disappointing answer from such an observant woman. Vern couldn t remember
exactly what went down, but he thinks the incident occurred during what ended up being
Mr. Montenegro s last visit to Deuces. Tell me, Stacy, do you have a boyfriend?
No.
A jealous ex? An overprotective man in your life who isn t real happy with your career
choice?
No. No, she insisted when he continued to stare at her. What are you getting at?
I m getting at two men, beaten to death in a manner so similar it s practically a
signature, whose only other connection appears to be their enthusiasm for Deuces& and
you. That s either an incredible coincidence and I don t believe in coincidence or you re
involved. For several reasons, not the least of which is all the heat you walked into by
finding and reporting Mr. Long s body, I doubt you re knowingly involved.
He waited a beat, to gauge her reaction to his statement, and caught the faintest
flicker of relief cross her face. Don t take too much comfort from staying off the suspect
list, because if I m right, you re in an even more precarious situation. You ve caught a
killer s eye. So far he s going after your poorly behaved clients, but I can t help wondering
what happens if he decides you re the one behaving poorly.
His words rounded her huge, blue eyes, but she didn t crack. Instead, she dropped her
gaze to her watch. I ve answered your questions as best I can. Am I free to go?
What s your hurry? Somebody extremely dangerous is watching you closely, if my
theory is correct. Maybe you d like to consider the implications for a moment?
She didn t respond, but her expression conveyed such apprehension, uncertainty, and
plain old misery, he couldn t stop himself from trying again.
Hey. He softened his voice. You re in a risky situation. I need your help to get you
out.
She glanced his way, but said nothing.
Is there anyone hanging around Deuces who makes you nervous a client or a
coworker you dated, or who wanted a date and didn t get one? A guy who s controlling,
possessive, or just not quite right? Now s not the time to protect someone you feel sorry
for. Protect yourself. He let concern lace his voice. Not hard. He was extremely
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