WHILE LOU MANEUVERED THROUGH THE Thursday night traffic, Casey peered at his side mirror for the umpteenth time.
“No one’s tailing us,” he said, glancing at her. “I’ve checked as much as you have.”
“I know.” Still, she was uneasy. Someone could be following. On their way to Barb’s earlier tonight, she’d constantly watched the mirror. Even escorting Summer out of the house and into Lou’s vehicle had frazzled her nerves.
“Do you think I should call Summer?” she asked.
“She’ll be fine with Mom.”
“I’m worried about her mental state.”
“Mom will help. She’s raised five kids and has been through a lot. Besides, I told her everything Winifred said.”
“Really?” Why would he do that? “When?”
“While you and Summer were settling Cheyenne in.”
“I’m not sure Summer wants anyone to know. She’s barely had time to absorb the news.” Casey looked at the stores. “She was working too hard to be upbeat.”
“That’s why I gave Mom a heads up. I wasn’t sure how long Summer could keep faking it before she crashed.”
Whatever; no point in making an issue of it. This was supposed to be a fun night mixed with a little fact finding. On the other hand, not making an issue of things had become a habit. She’d kept things she’d found hard to discuss to herself. She’d avoided dating Lou for a long time because she hadn’t believed she was any good at love. Her bloody ex had accused her of emotional distance; told her she’d never get close to anyone until she resolved issues with her mother. Hours before Mother died, she’d tried to reconnect with her. It hadn’t gone well. Casey hadn’t let it go well.
“There’s the club,” Lou said, making a right turn into a parking lot across the street.
When they reached the club’s entrance, two tall women emerged. Despite their pink wigs and beaded dresses, their Adam’s apples were obvious under the bright lights.
Lou gripped Casey’s arm. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Not me.” Smiling, she urged him forward.
“Am I going to need a tiara and a pair of sling-backs to get in?” he asked.
“I doubt it. See those guys?” Casey pointed toward a bearded man escorting what definitely looked like a woman. “If you don’t like the place, we won’t stay along.”
Inside, her eardrums were assaulted by “Car Wash” blasting from speakers. Too bad she hadn’t brought earplugs. While they edged past crowded tables and clusters of people standing around in pastel suits and shiny dresses, Casey looked for Ursula Gallenski. Lou led her to an empty table on the far side of the room, near a hallway that led to the bathrooms.
They were barely seated before a server in a hot pink mini-skirt with matching headband approached and took their drink orders. In a corner of the room, the DJ stood on a platform surrounded by strobe lights. Casey spotted a crowded bar at the back of the room. Men dominated the bar and looked anywhere from twenty to over fifty years old. Some of the guys were holding hands. Others were either alone or in small groups and ogling the women. When the song ended, the DJ announced a short break. Canned music, quieter than the DJ’s brain-shaking noise, began to play. Their server appeared with two beers. Casey paid before Lou could retrieve his wallet.
She picked up her glass and studied the colorful, crowded room. “How odd.”
Lou spluttered as he swallowed his beer. “Ya think?”
“I’ve never been to a club with such a mix of gay and straight couples, not to mention a shared love of sequins, feathers, and disco.”
Lou glanced at the room. “It’s packed for a Thursday night.”
Casey gazed at the enormous silver ball above the dance floor. A rainbow of lights flashed over patrons shimmying to “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing” on the floor. It was all so gaudy, so seventies tacky.
“What do you think of the decor?” she asked.
“Cool.” His head began to bob.
A young woman strutted past them, wearing clear plastic, high-heeled sandals with lights in the heels. Every time she moved, blue and red lights flickered.
Lou said, “I’m buying you a pair of those for Christmas.”
“Please don’t.”
“Come on, it’d be worth it to hear what Stan would say if you sauntered into work in blinking heels. You’re a size eight, right?”
“I’m not telling.”
Given the amount of strutting and preening happening on the dance floor’s perimeter, people were as interested in being seen as they were in dancing. Women seemed particularly engaged in a notice-me competition. Rhinestones and beads wound through hairdos shaped like birds wings. Two women in short, lime dresses and matching shoes wore sparkles on their faces and chests.
“This explains all the wigs and mini-skirts I saw in Jasmine’s closet, right next to her church-going dresses,” Casey said. “I never pictured so many sides to her.”
“Jasmine spent a lot of time trying to find herself.”
Casey watched him. “What was missing?”
“A sense of belonging, I think.”
“She always seemed so ultra-cool at work; like she had it together.”
“It was an act.” Lou gaped at a young woman with muscular legs and bleached blond hair that reached her butt.
Casey put down her drink and tried to recapture his attention. “How do you know it was an act?”
“She asked me out for a beer in August, after we’d both had a crappy shift. She was really down about her mom.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I knew you two didn’t get along, and I didn’t want you to feel worse.”
He was right. She would have felt lousy, even more than she did right now. Jasmine had been dead two weeks, and Lou hadn’t once mentioned that he’d already known about her birth mother. Once again, though, why make an issue of it?
“Was she down because her mom was sick?” she asked, her tone casual.
“Pretty much. After her mother’s stroke, Jasmine wanted to go see her, but her mother kept putting her off, saying she didn’t want Jasmine to see her paralyzed and feeble.” He shook his head. “Jasmine had begun to think that her mother didn’t want to meet at all.”
Three young guys in striped spandex sauntered past them. The man nearest Lou winked at him. Lou developed a sudden interest in his beer.
“That’s what happens when you wear a TWO BEERS AND I’M NEGOTIABLE shirt, especially on someone as cute as you,” Casey remarked.
“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t ya?”
“It’s getting better.”
“Dancing Queen” began to play, transforming the floor into a congested, psychedelic swirl. When everyone started to sing, the whole scene became suffocating. Ursula emerged from the bathroom, wearing a red feather boa and purple dress. Hadn’t there been a boa just like it in Jasmine’s bedroom? Ursula had her arm around a woman who looked far too sad to be clubbing.
“That’s Ursula.” Casey pointed to her. “The one in purple.”
“Really? Is she pregnant?”
“Yep.” Ursula spotted Casey, who gave her a quick nod. “She doesn’t look surprised to see me.”
“Or that thrilled.” Lou’s finger tapped the edge of his glass.
“That’s fine, just as long as she talks.” Casey waved Ursula over and watched her speak to her friend. “I wonder if she could pinpoint any of the guys Jasmine went to dinner with.”
“Does it matter? You’re here only to ask about Eisler, right?”
