Erin leaped to her feet. "I'm ready. Let's go."
"Let me get my purse." Barbara disappeared inside.
He stared at Erin, feeling trapped and dismayed. "Erin… uh, it's not—"
"Connor." Erin crossed her arms over her chest and gave him her most mysterious, mind-melting smile. "Don't tell me you're leaving us two defenseless women all alone while Novak and his goons circle around us like hungry sharks. Oh, no. Surely not."
"You don't fight fair," he told her.
Barbara burst out the door, her white purse swinging over her arm. "If you don't take me, I'll just get into my car and follow you," she said, voice ringing. "That's my little girl out there."
He grumbled and cursed as he shoved junk out of his backseat to make room. One of his canes was back there, the big one with the armrest and grip that he had used right after he got out of rehab. It had been buried and forgotten under a heap of newspapers and junk mail. "Throw that thing into the back window," he told Erin.
The Alley Cat Club was a long, squat dark building with a flashy animated LIVE GIRLS/COCKTAILS sign. Sean and Miles were standing in the parking lot, chomping at the bit. Davy was nowhere to be seen.
"About time you got here." Sean's jaw dropped as Barbara and Erin got out of the car. "Wow. I see you brought, ah, reinforcements."
"Sean, this is Mrs. Riggs, Erin's mom," he said, with stony politeness. "Mrs. Riggs, this is my younger brother Sean, and this is Miles, one of Cindy's friends who's been helping us look for her."
Barbara nodded stiffly. "Thank you for your help."
Sean's grin activated the automatic charm-o-rama function that was part of his basic wiring. "It's been a pleasure, ma'am. OK, you guys, listen up. I don't want to attract a lot of attention, so I'll just slip in there alone and look around for Sable. If she can lead us to Cindy, we'll whisk her off quietly, and that way we can be more relaxed and focused when we go back to have our talk with the Fuh—that is to say, with Billy. So—Mrs. Riggs? Mrs. Riggs! Wait!"
Barbara was marching toward the building. "My baby's in there."
Sean sprinted after her. He took her arm and started talking earnestly, but Barbara Riggs in full battle mode was a challenge, even for him. Connor left him to it and groped in the back window for the aluminum cane. It wasn't ideal as a weapon, since it was weighted all wrong, but it would do in a pinch. Bare hands were more fun, but whatever. The bum leg earned him a couple of pity points.
Sean had actually managed to collar Barbara right outside the entrance, the slick bastard. He smiled and kissed her hand, gave them a thumbs-up, and disappeared inside. Barbara waited by the door for them, clutching her purse to her chest with white-knuckled hands.
A couple minutes later Sean opened the door and gestured them in. The place was dark and loud. It smelled of spilled beer, smoke, and male sweat. Several nearly naked girls writhed around poles on a long stage that ran the entire length of the bar, lit with pulsing red lights.
Heads swiveled as Barbara Riggs walked through the room, wildly out of place in her pale pink pantsuit and her white purse, wide-eyed and tight-lipped. Sean shoved open an unmarked door. They crowded into a dingy corridor with an open door at the end of it. Light and noise spilled out. Two women dressed in skintight jeans came out, talking loudly. They shut up, painted eyes widening as they shimmied by the motley band that lurked in the corridor.
Connor turned to Erin and Barbara. He jerked his chin toward the door. "That is a dressing room. Go get her. Be quick. I want to get out of here." So far, this was going smoothly. Too smoothly. Not that he was complaining, but he had a nasty, prickling feeling behind his neck. No way could this play out so easily. Not the way his life was going.
Erin pushed her way into the crowded room, and Barbara followed close behind. The room was shrill with high-pitched voices. Brilliant light from the banks of makeup mirrors made Erin's eyes water. The smell of powder, hairspray, and cosmetics was heavy in the air.
She caught sight of Cindy in the back of the room. She was sitting on the floor with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her eyes looked dazed, and her mouth swollen and blurred. She was dressed in only a tank top and panties. A sharp-faced blond girl was bending over her, saying something to which Cindy was shaking her head.
"Cindy?" Erin called out.
Cindy struggled to her feet. "Erin? Mom?"
Cindy stumbled toward them and threw herself into her mother's arms, almost knocking her over backwards, and burst into noisy tears. The blond girl sidled past them and ran out of the room.
Oh, God. Now Mom was sobbing, too. As always, it was up to her to be the practical one. She was keenly aware of the men waiting out in the corridor for them, and the malevolent Billy lurking out there in the dark somewhere. "Cin? Help me out here! Where are your clothes, hon?"
Cindy looked around, glassy-eyed. "Um, I don't know."
A muscular redheaded woman handed Erin a pair of leggings. "Put these on her," she said. "I'm Sable. I'm the one who called that guy Sean, who was looking for Billy. Is that girl your friend?"
"She's my sister," Erin said. "Cin? Your shoes? Any idea where you put them?"
"I'm real glad you guys came to get her," Sable said. "She is, like, in orbit. I don't know what Billy's got her on, but she's not together enough to perform. No fuckin' way. She can't even stay on her feet, let alone dance. It is, like, incredibly unprofessional!"
"You are absolutely right," Erin agreed hastily. "And I'll be sure to tell her that you said so. Look, I have to find her some shoes—"
"Make sure she drinks a lot of water before she passes out," Sable advised. "And keep her away from Billy. He is pure, toxic scum." She thrust a pair of battered cloth slippers into Erin's hands.
"I will. Thanks a lot, Sable. You've been really kind to help—"
"Hurry. Go. Get her the hell out of here before there's trouble."
Cindy allowed herself to be dressed in the leggings and slippers, as unresisting as a doll. They hustled her out into the corridor. Miles took off his black frock coat and wrapped it around her, and the dusty black hem dragged on the ground behind her like a train. His dark eyes were fierce with anger behind his round glasses. "He hit you," he said.
Cindy squinted, stumbled, and finally focused on him. "Miles? Is that you? What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you. That bastard hit your face," he said. "He dies."
Cindy lifted her fingers to her mouth. "Oh. Yeah. I'm all right, though," she said faintly. "It doesn't hurt anymore."
"He dies," Miles repeated.
The three men formed a protective triangle around them as they pushed the shuffling Cindy through the crowded room. No one protested, no one barred their way. Erin held her breath and crossed her fingers. Out the door… sudden quiet and a blast of cool, bracing oxygen. Now just the length of the parking lot, and they were home free.
The door of the club swung open, and music blasted out. "Hey! You guys! Where the fuck do you think you're going with that girl?"
"Oh, thank God," Sean murmured. "Finally, some action."
Connor pressed his keys into Erin's hand. "Get your mom and sister into the car. Quick. We need to have a talk with that guy."
"But you—"
"Get them into that car and start it up. Now."
His tone left no room for argument. She bundled Mom and Cindy into the backseat, slammed the door shut, and leaped into the driver's side. Cindy sobbed in Mom's arms, and Mom was crooning comforting sounds. Neither of them seemed even remotely aware of the dangerous drama unfolding outside. She started up the car. Connor's phone was lying on the seat. She snatched it up and clutched it like a weapon.
Her heart beat so hard, it was about to burst out of her chest.