Sin City

height of six feet. Probably pushing thirty or even thirty-five…ancient in this trade, Catherine knew…the busty dancer had the cold eyes of a veteran and a narrow severe face framing a small round mouth that looked perpetually angry. She used a large white beach towel to dry herself as she walked over, saying, 'You with them?' The woman tilted her head toward the back of the room.

Nodding, Catherine introduced herself, adding, 'Crime scene investigator-and you are?'

'Pissed off…Thanks for a skin'.' She saronged the towel around herself, plucked a package of cigarettes from the nearby dressing table and lit herself up. She blew smoke and said, 'I was just wonderin' when you people are gonna be done with this place so we can go back to makin' money.'

Ignoring the stripper's belligerent attitude, Catherine asked, 'You have my name- yours is…?'

Chin high, proud of herself, the dancer said, 'Belinda Bountiful.'

Catherine laughed out loud. 'That wouldn't be a stage name, by any chance?'

The redhead glanced around, making sure no one was listening, and whispered, 'Pat Hensley.'

'Don't the other girls know your real name?'

'We're not that close. I like to keep my private life private, that's all…. I got a husband and two kids to feed.'

Catherine sat on the edge of a dressing table. 'So, the money's dried up around here?'

With a shake of her ersatz-auburn mane, the dancer said, 'It was hard enough to make money here when Jenna was alive-this ain't exactly the Flamingo, you know. But now…'

'What about now?'

'Whose fantasy is it, to go into the club where there's been a murder, anyway? Jeffrey Dahmer's maybe? Ted Bundy's? And those two ain't been hittin' the club scene much, lately. Plus which, we've had cops in and out of here, almost nonstop since Jenna bought it.'

That was touching. 'You have a few customers out there. It's early, yet.'

'Probably as big a crowd as we'll see all night.'

Trying to catch the dancer with her guard down, Catherine asked, 'Bother you at all, how much money Jenna was pulling down?'

The Hensley woman scoffed at that. 'Hell, no. You're kidding, right?'

'You were making your fair share then?'

Moving a well-manicured hand to her cleavage, the dancer asked, 'You know anything about this life, then you know that as long as I have these, I'm going to make my fair share.'

'You happen to know if Jenna Patrick was using her real name?'

The belligerence was gone, now. 'That was her real name-had the right sound, y'know? Lots of 'Jennas' around the strip circuit, right now. Hot porn star name.'

'You knew that was Jenna's real name, but she didn't know yours?'

'Hey, just 'cause I'm belly-achin' about business, don't think I'm glad Jenna's gone. Truth is, we were friends. I get along with her roommate, too.'

'Tera Jameson, you mean?'

'That's right-ever see that one dance? Now she is class; she was born with a great rack, and she studied ballet and shit. Yeah, before Tera left for Showgirl World, the three of us was pretty close.'

Catherine cast an eye toward Conroy who was still talking to the African-American dancer. 'Has Detective Conroy talked to you yet?'

The dancer shrugged. 'Last time you guys was here.'

'Not this time around?'

'No, why?'

'I had the impression,' the CSI said, 'that the girls around here weren't all that tight.'

Pat nodded. 'That's true enough, but I'm kinda the…den mother, I guess. And the three of us, Tera and Jenna and me, we hung out together quite a bit. Shopping, the occasional breakfast after we got off, stuff like that.'

'How well do you know her boyfriend?'

'Hothead Ray? Not all that well.' Pat smirked sourly. 'I was a little surprised when Jenna hooked up with his ass.'

'Surprised, why?'

Again the dancer looked around to make sure they weren't being overheard. 'I never knew what was goin' on with Jenna and Tera, not exactly, not really…'

Catherine nodded, even though she didn't know what she was agreeing with.

'…but I just assumed…well…you know.'

The CSI's antennae were tingling as she said, 'No-I don't know.'

'Knowing that Tera was a lez, I just assumed that Jenna was too. Anyway, that's why I was so surprised when Jenna hooked up with Lipton. I mean, I didn't know Jenna was bi-but what the hell? Whatever gets you through the night…or workin' these hours, the day!'

Catherine's eyes bored into those of the dancer.

'Ooooh shit,' Pat said, eyes as big as her bosoms. 'You didn't know Tera leaned that way, did you?'

'Never came up before. All we knew was, she and Jenna lived together; but nobody mentioned a relationship between the two, other than that they were roommates.'

'Didn't you talk to Tera yet?'

'Yes. She didn't say a word about it.'

The dancer shrugged. 'Well, even these days, people don't always advertise it.'

However you figured it, Catherine knew, this little sexual tidbit would call for another trip to Tera Jameson's apartment.

The criminalist decided to push on; she had in Pat a close friend of the deceased, after all. 'Any idea who would be jealous of Jenna, either here in the club, or, I don't know…maybe somebody out of Lipton's life? Coworker at the construction company, maybe?'

Pat looked slowly around the room. 'Here at Dream Dolls? Any of these girls who haven't saved up for new ones were jealous of her. And she had really nice work done…I'm saving up to get mine overhauled.'

Catherine's eyes travelled around the dressing room and she realized Pat's words might apply to all of these other dancers. That meant if Lipton really was innocent, they would have no shortage of suspects.

Sara strolled up and looked at Pat. 'You ready to give at the office?'

Before Catherine's eyes, Pat Hensley disappeared and in her place stood Belinda Bountiful, returning in all her bitchy glory. 'Is this trip really necessary? Ain't it enough you're keeping us from makin' a livin'?'

Sara shrugged with her mouth. 'You can either do it voluntarily, or we can get a court order. Do it now and we're out of your hair-your choice.'

Making a real production out of it, star stripper Belinda Bountiful finally agreed to follow Sara back and have the blood drawn. Turning privately to Catherine, Pat peeked out from behind the Belinda mask to whisper, 'Can't ever let 'em forget who the real diva is around this hellhole.'

While Conroy and Sara finished up, Catherine moved back to the tiny room where a murder had occurred. Using her Swiss Army knife, the CSI sliced through the yellow-and-black crime-scene tape and eased the door open. Having been closed up for this long a time, the cubicle hit Catherine in the face with a hot, fetid aroma, as if not an atom of air conditioning had penetrated the police seal.

Pulling on latex gloves, she stepped in. They were missing something-something important, she thought; and maybe they had missed it in here….

Standing there at the threshold of the murder, Catherine saw it happen.

Lipton-in a fake beard and mustache, dark glasses on, cap pulled down tight, the LIPTON CONSTRUCTION lettering on his jacket standing out in bold red letters against the denim background-walks down the hall, leading Jenna Patrick down the familiar path to the lap-dance cubicles. Naked except for the flimsy lavender thong, Jenna trails behind a few steps, an apprehensive smile on her pretty face as she wonders why her boyfriend is tempting fate by coming in here. Still, it excites Jenna, knowing that he would disguise himself so they could be together here, at the forbidden place that Dream Dolls has become….

They enter the little room, he sits on the chair and Jenna closes the door. She goes to him;