She remembered arriving in town at sixteen, just her and a girlfriend, both of them escaping from their lives in Phoenix. Serena got a job at one of the casinos. Her girlfriend wound up here, at one of the clubs, doing lap dances. She tried to talk Serena into doing it, too. The money was better. It was tempting, but Serena had already seen enough of men that she couldn't imagine parading herself in front of them. Lucky for her. Her friend moved up to a nicer apartment, did some low-budget porn films, and eventually wound up with AIDS. She died a hideous death at age twenty-two.
The girl in the desert was dead. Her friend was dead. Sometimes Serena felt guilty that she had survived.
A cheer arose from one of the satellite stages. Serena and Cordy edged closer, watching a hole appear in the center of the small stage. Slowly, rising out of the well, they saw two black arms, sensually twisting to the music. The girl emerged inch by inch as the elevator platform rose from beneath the floor. Her long arms went on forever, and then Serena saw dark hair and a sculpted ebony face. This girl was perfect, barely eighteen and stunning. A newcomer-Serena could see it in her eyes. The girl was still aroused by the hypnotic spell she could cast and the throaty bellows of the men. She was enjoying herself, and the men knew it. There was nothing more exciting than a girl who was truly trying to turn them on and not playing a weary game. The men knew the difference, and this girl was it.
Someone shouted, "Lavender!"
The girl turned to the man who had called her name and gave him a thick-lipped smile and a wink. All the while, she kept dancing, as more of her body rose into view. She wore a spaghetti-strap teddy that was ruby red against her coal skin. Her breasts were ready to burst out of the lace. The flaps of the fabric left her taut stomach bare, and below, she wore a thong parity. Her legs, trim and smooth, stretched down to blood-red pumps with three-inch heels.
"Put your tongue back in your mouth," Serena told Cordy.
"It's hard, mama, it's hard," he whispered.
"Is that a weather report from down south?" Serena asked, grinning.
Cordy didn't reply. He was transfixed, watching Lavender pop the buttons one by one, letting her cleavage spill out.
"What gives, Cordy? I thought you liked your girls short. and blonde."
"A good salsa is made up of many chiles," Cordy said.
"What is that, a Mexican proverb?"
"Nah, it's my new philosophy of life."
Serena watched as Lavender finally revealed her giant nipples, as hard as bullets. The girl cupped her full breasts in her hands as the crowd screamed.
"Come on, Don Juan, let's go backstage."
Serena dragged Cordy, craning his neck to keep an eye on Lavender, to the back of the club, where another upholstered door was labeled PERFORMERS ONLY. It was manned by a beefy black guard who wore a don't-fuck-with-me scowl. Serena explained that they needed to talk to the girls, and he scrutinized their shields before grudgingly standing aside.
Cordy smiled sweetly as he passed the guard. "Will the girls be self-conscious with a man down there?"
Serena laughed. The guard didn't.
They went down a flight of stairs, then entered the dressing room, which was a beehive of activity, filled with at least ten girls in different stages of nudity. Some were adjusting their breasts inside skimpy costumes, ready to go onstage. Others patiently sat before lighted mirrors and applied their makeup. Three girls who had completed their shifts were changing into their street clothes. They paid little attention to Cordy and Serena, although a couple of the girls gave Cordy an inviting smile. He smiled back.
Serena started with the girls who were getting ready to leave the club. One was already dressed; the second wore a black bra and jeans; the third, a natural redhead, was stark naked. She was reaching for a camisole on a hanger inside her locker.
"We'd like to ask you girls a few questions," Serena said.
The girls, who were chatting and laughing loudly together, clammed up. One of them shrugged indifferently. The redhead, seeing Cordy, twisted so her nude body was on display, right down to the trimmed auburn mound between her legs. She looked him right in the eyes and grinned, daring him to look down. Cordy resisted, although Serena knew it was killing him.
Serena explained why they were there and described the dead girl in general terms, mentioning the heart tattoo on her breast. When they heard about the murder, the girls' attitude changed. They were in a business that attracted more than a few sick freaks, and when one of their own got killed, they all immediately wondered who did it and whether they might be next on a killer's hit list.
"What about it?" Serena asked. "Do you know her?"
The girls glanced at each other.
"Girls come and go," the redhead said, idly stroking one of her breasts. "I mean, that description could fit a hundred girls who work in various clubs."
"How about the tattoo?" Cordy asked.
They all shook their heads.
It had been the same story all day. Girls come and go. Who notices if they're here one day and gone the next? And so many of them are young and half-blonde.
They quickly interviewed the other girls in the dressing area and got the same response from each one. They were about to leave and head for the next club on their list when Cordy pointed at the stage lift, which was now revolving slowly back to the floor, with Lavender on it, carefully balancing so she didn't tumble off. The black stripper stepped off onto the floor, and the lift returned upward to the circular stage.
She was naked except for a tiny G-string, fringed with cash stuffed inside. Her breasts jiggled as she crossed the tile floor, her high heels clicking. She stopped in front of a Coke machine and extracted a dollar from her waist. She bought herself a diet soda, popped it, and took a long swig. Then her eyes settled on Serena and Cordy.
"What do the two of you want?" Lavender demanded.
"They're police," the redhead called out helpfully. She was now dressed in the camisole and leather pants. "Looking for a missing girl."
"We're all missing," Lavender said.
Cordy made no pretense of keeping his eyes off this girl's body. He made eye contact, then slowly let his gaze drop down her long expanse of nude skin, pausing in all of the interesting places. Lavender had an amused smile on her face.
"Guys pay good money to see that," she said. "What makes you think cops get it for free?"
"If we go to dinner, that wouldn't be free," Cordy said. "What do you say?"
Serena rolled her eyes.
Lavender laughed. "Is your dick as big as your balls?"
"Only one way to find out," Cordy said.
Lavender glanced at Serena. "I take it you and he are not an item? I don't get into this three-way stuff."
"We're barely partners," Serena said, giving Cordy a sharp elbow to the side. "After today, maybe not at all."
"What's your name?" Lavender asked, looking at Cordy again. Serena knew the girl was interested. It was strange, watching Cordy's magnetism at work. She herself didn't feel it, but a lot of girls did.
"You can call me Cordy."
"I've got a few niches on you, Cordy. I wouldn't want to hurt you accidentally." Her lips twitched into a grin.