Rye was out the door and relieved to be back in the Taurus with the doors locked. It wasn’t that there was anything dangerous in the store, even the guy behind the counter with the tight shirt and bulging muscles didn’t seem all that menacing. He put the feeling behind him, started the engine, backed out of the parking lot and headed down the street. He scanned the storefronts looking for a store called the “Doll House,” already wondering if Paul was right, that a lot of girls get in over their heads in the pornography business and there was nothing he or anyone else could do. What if this girl was already dead, or wasn’t even working for Lewd and Lascivious any more and had gone home—wherever that was.
He spotted the “Doll House” sign before he reached the parking lot. How could anyone miss it? It had an inflatable sex doll nailed on it.
Garbage lay strewn about the parking lot, mainly fast food containers with a couple of empty condom packages here and there. Even the asphalt was stained. When Rye pulled into the lot, the tires crunched over something; he parked at the far end so he wouldn’t have to step in whatever it was when he got out.
The front of the building housing the store looked like an extension of the parking lot. The brick was a patchwork of graffiti. What appeared to have been the only window had two plywood sheets covering the space with the word “pussy” spray-painted in giant letters. Even the little window in the door was blacked out. The place looked closed.
He hadn’t turned the engine off and was ready to move on, when the door opened and a young couple walked out. The “manboy” was massaging the woman’s barley covered breasts in total seriousness while she never stopped laughing. Rye sat and watched them walk down the street. Then he remembered something Paul had said. When you’re in a bad part of town, get in your car, get out, but never just sit there. He’d never asked why, but it seemed to make sense now.
The front door was solid wood but felt like it was about to fall of its hinges. This time the cash register and its guardian were against the back wall. He was greeted by the top of a shaved head slumped in a captain’s chair, nose buried in a novel.
He left out the greeting this time and got right to the point. “You ever hear of the company Lewd and Lascivious?” He stepped back at what he saw next.
“What, you never seen a woman with a shaved head?”
It wasn’t just the shaved head, but the deep facial pockmarks and breasts that could have rested on the counter as she spoke that took him by surprise. Rye was chagrined that his reaction was so obvious. As an EMT he had to keep a stone face, especially when telling an accident victim the extent of an injury.
He swallowed once. “Ever hear the name Lewd and Lascivious,” he repeated?
“Heard of them, yeah. Rumor is that only girls squeaky clean are hired, then never seen again.”
Suddenly Rye had the impression that he was being visually undressed, but shook off the feeling.
“You ever know any of the girls trying to get hired?”
The woman seemed to be fiddling with the buttons running down the middle of her blouse; Rye tried not to look at what she was doing and kept his eyes on her forehead.
“Lots, but they weren’t squeaky clean and they never got hired. They said all they asked in the interview was about smoking, drinking and drugs.”
Rye couldn’t pinpoint it, but she was making serious eye contact and something about her presence had softened.
“Hey if you’re looking for work, I got a camera in the back.”
Before Rye could respond, the woman pulled her blouse open at the middle, her two breasts cascaded like twin avalanches onto the counter. “How’d you like to run it between these babies?”
His jaw must have dropped because she began to laugh.
He couldn’t help but look. “Ah, no thanks.” He didn’t run to the door, but he didn’t walk either. He must have looked like a total fool.
When he got back to the Taurus, he didn’t lay rubber but was sure that his tires kicked up some of the fast food trash as he peeled out. He crept along the road, looking down at the page torn out of the phone book, groaning at the site of twelve more listings to go. At least he’d gotten confirmation that Lewd and Lascivious was in the area. Somehow he just couldn’t go back and ask for details.
He noted that the storefronts and general neighborhood seemed a little cleaner as the addresses grew larger. The pawnshop and antique store he passed both looked well kept. It was a warm day, they both had their doors open and there was fully clothed foot traffic along the sidewalk. He almost turned into a used bookstore by mistake, and made a mental note to swing back later if he had the time.
There it was, next to a boarded-up storefront. He was relieved to see that the sign was a modest black and white, simply reading “Adult Books,” and that the parking lot looked clean.
He took a deep breath. When he walked through the polished steel and glass door, he thought he might have entered the wrong store. The door swung smoothly, closing with a quiet swoosh behind him. He was startled when greeted by a detached voice.
“Hello, can I help you find anything?”
Rye did a quick scan and from some noises, determined the voice was coming from the far right corner, but decided to wait for the source of the voice to reveal itself.
“Sorry, I was stocking some new tapes. What can I help you with?”
He was relieved to be greeted by a pleasantly plump, slightly balding, fifty-something man wearing creased slacks and a bright red polo shirt.
“Hi, yeah, well actually I need some information.”
Rye braced himself for the man’s reaction, but for the second time was pleasantly surprised.
“Sure, I’ve been in this location for thirty years. Had to move the store from downtown LA about the same time the city started getting too big for its own good. So, I’m here. Lost some foot traffic, but you can’t beat the rent. Sorry, sorry, I go on forever if I’m not careful. What can I tell you?”
“Have you ever heard of a film company called Lewd and Lascivious?”
“Yep. What do you want to know?”
“Location, maybe some names.”
“Uh oh, sounds like a daughter gone astray. That’s how I found out about them. Not my daughter, course. My goddaughter, actually. Best friend’s daughter. He came to me cuz he knew I was in the biz.”
A bell rang interrupting his monologue.
“Scuse me, delivery at the back door. Take just a minute.”
Rye knew there was no way to get off easy; one way or another he was going to have to pay for any information.
It turned out the owner of “Adult Books” knew quite a bit, and was willing to tell it for free. He said that Lewd and Lascivious was six blocks down, but it was only the business office. Rumor was the film set was somewhere in Oregon. He heard through the grapevine that it was financed by a doctor and was operated by some kind of nymphomaniac who demanded sex from all the male actors as part of their interviews.
That was enough for Rye, who only really wanted the address. Abruptly he looked at his watch. “Oh, I’ve got to run, but thanks for the information.”
Six blocks later, the street looked like it was on a different planet. Trees lined the sidewalks and there were no deserted cars stripped and left to rust. He almost drove past his destination because the sign was so high, mounted two stories up. He had to get out of the car to read it. He was disappointed that there was no phone number on the sign, but maybe that would have made things too easy.
He walked slowly up to the door, taking a minute to rehearse his lines, but never got the chance. He found out the door was metal by the ring it made when his head was slammed against it.
Without hesitation, Rye executed a rear heel scoop kick and was rewarded with a grunt, when he spun around he was looking down the barrel of a very large caliber gun and an angry set of eyes. The gunman kept changing weight from one leg to the other, like a little kid that had to go to the bathroom. Reaching with his empty hand, the gunman wadded up Rye’s shirt and placed the barrel of the gun firmly against his forehead.