“What about him?” Tony asked the question. He was the one who’d had to restrain him the day before. The man had a temper and he was obsessively protective of his wife.
“Deanna has tried for years to get the man to lighten up. He all but keeps Karen on a leash. Maybe she had a confrontation with him we don’t know about and he flipped out.”
“Could that have happened?”
“I don’t know. I don’t like Gary. I could be way off base, but you brought up resentment as a motive and the man carries a grudge.” Without more to work with Ray didn’t want to pursue the issue further. Gary Hewes’ alibi had checked out but he would have a talk with him again…and soon. Lakisha was letting them inside the group now. He wanted to touch on some other things before he dropped the bomb.
“What about jealousy? Roxie Kennebrew has a thing for Scott Fredrickson, or so she says.”
“Sisters also tease, Rayford. Roxie has been teasing Deanna for years. I think she does it to motivate Ken, myself. He’s not the most ambitious man in the world.”
“Motivate?”
“Ken’s kind of a slob. Roxie flirts with Scott so her husband will try to keep in shape and have a little style, work harder.”
“Wrong tree, huh?”
Lakisha smiled when she replied. “Wrong forest.”
“There’s one thing that’s come up, a connection to the LA trip.” Tony was surprised Ray brought that up. It felt like an ace to him and he thought a few more cards should be shown before it was played.
“A connection?”
“I can’t explain yet. It’s a connection, a coincidence. I sure would like to know more about the last night there.”
Lakisha’s smile faded. “You’re talking about the strip club. It was surreal. I think it was Roxie’s idea, or maybe Karen’s. We had several cocktails before we went and more when we got there. I’d heard there were places like that but I had no idea. Have you ever gone to a strip joint, Rayford?”
“Once or twice. Not for many years.”
“I don’t know where they found these guys. I assume one of the attractions in men’s clubs is the size of the women’s boobs.” Both Ray and Tony nodded, Tony blushing slightly. “The men, boys really, were extremely ah… well endowed. After a few minutes, another song or two dancing, if you could call it that, they started stroking themselves. Women were shrieking and yelling. Some of them were with dates. I remember most of the dates were very quiet.”
Tony paid close attention to his notebook.
“It progressed from throwing dollars and underwear onto the stage to women climbing up and, uh…helping the studs out. One woman dropped to her knees and started sucking on one of them, then another. Karen was in a fit. Roxie wasn’t far behind, but at least she stayed in her chair. I, of course, was above all of it.” Lakisha laughed as if at a private joke.
“When Karen started for the stage, Deanna grabbed her; by the shoulders, by her blouse. I remember they were face to face, yelling at each other. The music was incredibly loud and the shrieking and yelling…then Tia joined in, and they dragged Karen out. I remember Roxie followed. I brought up the rear. Out on the sidewalk they were all doubled up laughing. I was too. What a scene.”
“So you think Karen would have gone up on the stage?”
“Oh yes.” Lakisha nodded with a wicked smile on her lips. “When Gary’s not around she lets loose. She gets wild. It’s revenge or pent up emotions or both.
“But nothing happened that night.”
“I wouldn’t call it nothing, but no, she didn’t make it to the stage, thank God.”
“What about afterward?”
“We went to a bar, a normal bar. I had one more drink and called it a night. You know what I did then?”
“I’m going to guess you went to your room and made notes, wrote descriptions of the scene.”
“Very good, Rayford. That’s exactly what I did. I used those notes in my novel Dance of Death. In the book, Carina, the Karen character-original, huh-she makes it to the stage. It’s a very racy scene.”
“What about the next day?”
“The next day we flew home. Karen was extremely hung over. I guess she and Deanna closed the bar. I can just see Dee lecturing her about keeping control. Deanna, our mother hen. She was quiet on the flight home, I remember. Really quiet. Maybe she and Karen had a fight.”
“A serious one?”
“No, in a couple of days we had a picture party and everything was fine.”
“Did anyone take pictures in the club?”
Lakisha answered with a naughty, sexy smile. She excused herself, said she’d just be a moment.
“Sean Stuckey has a big dick,” Tony said.
Ray closed his eyes, lowered his shaking head and chuckled. Tony was being serious. He’d flipped back in his notes and confirmed what he thought he recalled from talking to David Hong. “What?”
“Sorry. No, it’s good information. I’m not going to ask how you got it, not right now. It’s just the way you said it.”
“One of the roommates mentioned it. It just clicked when Mrs. Marland was describing the club scene.”
Lakisha returned and again sat across from Ray. She handed him a CD.
“That’s from my computer. I had a digital camera, a little one, with me that night in my purse. The pictures aren’t very good but maybe your connection is there.”
“Thank you.”
“And you should also have this.” She handed him a book. It was a hardcover, well thumbed, with a tattered but intact jacket. It was titled Lost Years, Lost Dreams, written by Tonya Reller. Ray searched for the name. It was vaguely familiar. He opened the book and read the jacket notes.
Lost Years, Lost Dreams is the story of one woman’s fight for survival in prison. Wrongly convicted of manslaughter and imprisoned, Laticia Lafleur finds comfort and reassurance, and most important, her sanity, in conversations with the ghost of the woman she was accused of killing.
For three years she and her ghost revisit the night of the murder, the events leading up to it, a senseless altercation in a run-down bar. Her ghost is sad and sympathetic. She knows Laticia is innocent, but all she can do is counsel her and help her survive.
Tonya Reller-the woman Lakisha was convicted of killing years before.
“It was my first book. The publisher loved it. One reviewer called it ‘haunting fiction’. Isn’t that funny? I tried to tell them it was really an autobiography; that Laticia really didn’t do the crime and really did talk to the murdered girl’s ghost all those years. It sold okay.”
“I want to read this.” Ray held the book up. “May I borrow it?”
Lakisha nodded. “I want you to. I know you have questions. I knew the fingerprints would open this door. The answers are all in there. I’d rather not speak of it again.”
Chapter 20
Tony looked over the empty squad room early Friday morning. He felt alert, refreshed, and eager after his first good night’s sleep in a week. He had talked briefly with Sue Ellen the night before. The Marshal’s Service had been called in. She was staying in a safe house at night and would have an escort, as she called it, during the day. Both of them wanted to make plans for the weekend but between her escorts and his murder investigation they agreed it was wishful thinking.
Tony picked out the navy blue single breasted suit for the day’s adventures from his new wardrobe, going so far as to iron a new white oxford cloth shirt. Out of practice, the tie had been a problem.
Carol was the first of the team to arrive. Tony noticed she had dark smudges under her eyes and had paid little or no attention to her hair or makeup. She dumped an armful of files on her desk before grinding a fist into the small of her back when she straightened. She smiled when she saw Tony and walked over.
“First that jacket yesterday and now this?” She reached over and began worrying the knot on his tie. “Lightning strike?”