I don’t actually believe that, but I figure it can’t hurt to make Calvin feel as if he is doing something righteous and in favor of the overall gay good by helping us talk to the motel owners. I take Calvin’s slight nod as evidence he agrees and push a little more.
“Any chance you might be willing to introduce us to the owners?”
“Sure,” he says. “I can’t promise they’ll help, but I’m happy to give it a shot. When do you want to go?”
I look at Dom, my eyebrows raised in question. He gives me back a shrug of indifference. “Can we do it tonight?” I ask, turning back to Calvin.
He considers this, then smiles. “Why not? Just give me about fifteen minutes to tie up some loose ends here.” With that, he rises from his chair and disappears into the crowd. I thank Chris for his help and watch as he stands, smoothes the lines of his skirt, and scans the room for his next target. Then he, too, disappears into the crowd.
While we are waiting for Calvin, Dom and I order a couple of beers and spend some time rating the moves of the Travolta imitators on the dance floor. After the promised fifteen minutes have passed, I start searching for Calvin but spot another familiar face instead.
“Oh, hell,” I say, giving Dom a nudge with my leg. “Looks like we aren’t the only ones to zero in on The Cellar. Lookie there.” I nod toward the main entrance. “That tall, dark, and handsome fella over there by the door is Steve Hurley, the homicide detective on the Owenby case.”
Hurley sees me, waves, and heads toward our table. “Well, hello there,” he says when he reaches us. Grinning smugly, he grabs a chair, spins it around backward and straddles it. For the first time in my life, I am envious of a chair.
“Detective Hurley. What brings you out here on a night like this?” I ask.
“I might ask you the same thing.”
I ignore his rebuttal and gesture toward Dom. “Have you two met?”
Hurley glances at Dom, nods, and mumbles a greeting. Dom mumbles something back and quickly looks away, his arms folded tight across his chest. I’m dying to know why it is that Dom dislikes cops so much, but every time I try to ask him about it, he changes the subject.
“So, what are you doing here?” Hurley asks me.
“Just enjoying a night out,” I tell him. “Izzy’s away at his medical conference so Dom and I thought we’d go out and have a little R&R.”
“R&R,” Hurley repeats, his tone rich with skepticism. “When will Izzy be back?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Don’t tell me he left you in charge while he’s gone.”
His tone of disbelief pricks my ego. “Why wouldn’t he?”
“Well, for one thing, you haven’t been at this very long. I would think he’d want someone with a bit more experience.”
“I’m a quick learner.”
“Are you now?” he says, flashing me a crooked grin.
The truth is, Izzy has a couple of forensic pathologists who fill in for him from time to time. If any autopsies need to be done, they will do them and either Arnie or I will assist. But that is the extent of my duties while Izzy is away. As for the day-to-day office stuff, some of that is done by Arnie, but most of it falls to Cass.
Dom is starting to squirm, and as much as I am enjoying my repartee with Hurley, I fear he might start asking questions I don’t want to answer. Withholding facts from him is one thing. Lying directly to those blue eyes is something else again. I can’t trust my hormones not to betray me. And I don’t want Hurley along when Calvin takes us to the Grizzly.
“Well, it’s great seeing you, Hurley, but we were just about to leave.” I drain the last of my beer and stand. Dom takes the cue enthusiastically and is halfway to the door seconds after I’m on my feet.
“Heading home?” Hurley asks, his tone suspicious.
“I’m tired. It’s been a long day.” It’s the truth, and if Hurley assumes from that statement that I have answered his question in the affirmative, so be it.
“Yes, I imagine it has been,” he says, studying me intently. “In fact, I’m surprised to see you out and about at all tonight.”
“Hey, a girl is entitled to a little fun, isn’t she?”
“Fun? Is that what you came here for?”
“Sure. This is a pretty happening place.” I look about the room as if to confirm all the “happenings” but I really just need to look away from Hurley while I lie to him.
“Really?” The skepticism in his tone is thick enough to slice.
“Yes, really.” I see Dom over by the exit, standing next to Calvin.
“I’m surprised you’re not staying longer then,” Hurley challenges. “You got all dolled up and drove all this way and you’ve only been here…what”—he glances at his watch—“twenty, maybe thirty minutes.”
Now how did he know that? Has he been here all along? Did he follow me here? That might explain the burgundy-and-gray van—maybe it is one of Hurley’s cohorts tailing me. I wonder if Hurley or his goon squad will try to follow me when I leave. That simply won’t do. Calvin and the Grizzly are my finds. Besides, I suspect the presence of an overbearing police detective might put a damper on Calvin’s willingness to help, not to mention the motel owners’ willingness to share. Somehow, I have to find a way to keep Hurley here long enough for us to get a head start. And as my gaze wanders over the dance floor, I get an idea.
“I guess I underestimated just how much the day took out of me,” I tell Hurley. “I really need to head home, but hey, it was good seeing you. Have fun and I’ll catch you later.”
With that, I turn away and head onto the dance floor, where I grab Chris, whisper, “I need your help,” and escort him toward the opposite side of the room, as far away from Hurley as possible.
I look back quickly to see if Hurley is watching me and, seeing that he is, I turn Chris around so he can see Hurley over my shoulder. “Act as if we’re just two buddies saying good-bye. Smile, laugh, look casual,” I say.
Chris instantly complies. “But of course,” he says, smiling broadly. “What’s up, girlfriend?”
“See that real tall fellow over there at the table where we were sitting?”
Chris glances quickly, licks his lips, then turns his gaze back to me. “How could I miss him, honey? That is one fine specimen of manhood.”
He is that, and I take a second to ponder the irony of discussing Hurley’s sexual appeal with another man. “Yes, he is,” I agree. “But he’s also a cop and I think he’s following me. And I don’t want him tagging along when Calvin takes us out to the Grizzly.”
“Hmm, yes. I can see where that might be a problem,” Chris says.
“So here’s what I want you to do….”
Chapter 29
Ten minutes later, Dom and I are following Calvin’s motorcycle down a two-lane highway and there are no headlights we can see anywhere behind us. Thirty minutes after that, we pull into the parking lot of the Grizzly Motel.
There are probably plenty of places that are tackier than the Grizzly but it is hard for me to imagine any. Out by the road, a giant grizzly bear rises up in green and pink neon, his arm pointing the way to the main office, which is sandwiched between two long wings of rooms. Below the bear is another splash of neon that says VACAN_Y, the Y blinking on and off as it threatens to join its darkened neighbor. Another sign, this one in simple white light with black lettering, advertises seventy-five cable channels.
The parking lot is surprisingly full. We follow Calvin around to the back of the place and I see that each wing has rooms both in front and in back. We pull into an empty spot near the middle of the two wings and Dom turns off the engine.