“She’s amazing,” Sherman said, and I wasn’t sure whether he was talking about her musical skills or another talent that we would not be privy to. “Dee was a little too girl-next-door for the Flamingos. She didn’t quite fit.”
I didn’t remind him that Daisy had started the Flamingos on her own, that he had been the afterthought when the band had already had some success on YouTube. I didn’t see the same charisma in this girl that Daisy had. True, Daisy
“Do you have Daisy’s family’s information?” I asked, eager now to get out of here.
Sherman picked a cell phone up off the table behind him and hit a few keys. “I’ve got a phone number in Maine.” He jotted it down with a hotel pen on a piece of hotel notepaper and handed it to me. “Will that do?”
I stuck the piece of paper in my back pocket. “I appreciate it.”
“You could’ve just called,” he reminded me.
“Would you have answered the phone?” I shot back at him.
Sherman Potter gave a short shrug. “Probably not.”
The nameless girl stuck her cigarette in the top of a soda can, and we heard it sizzle as it hit the remnants of the liquid. This was way too disgusting for me. It was time to leave.
“Nice to meet you,” I said politely, as my mother would want, and tugged on Harry’s arm to indicate he should stop staring now.
He looked down at me as though seeing me for the first time. “Oh, right, yes, nice to meet you.” And he flashed her a brilliant smile, which she returned. Again, there was that tension. It was like a bolt of lightning had struck in the middle of the room.
“Up for a drink later, Harry?” Sherman asked, escorting us to the door, eager to see us leave. Or, more likely, eager to see Harry leave.
Harry grinned and looked back at the girl, who was now perched on the edge of the table in such a way that we had a clear view of a rose tattoo on the inside of her thigh. She gave Harry a short nod and didn’t make any move to adjust the towel this time.
“Always up for it,” Harry said as Sherman opened the door and practically shoved us out, although I wasn’t quite sure what he’d always be up for: a drink or that girl. Probably both.
“I’ll be at Cleopatra’s Barge again tonight,” Sherman said, the door open merely a crack now. “Ainsley’s singing. You can check her out.”
And the door slammed shut, leaving us in the hallway.
“I think we already checked her out,” Harry quipped.
But I wasn’t thinking about that.
Her name was Ainsley.
What were the odds?
I knocked on the door, but no one came to answer it this time. It was as though no one was home, even though we knew Sherman and Ainsley were in there.
“He wanted to get rid of us pretty quick,” Harry said, his usual smile gone as he considered the reason.
I stood, uncertain what to do. I wanted to talk to Ainsley. I wanted to ask her about that blog. The one with my pictures on it. The one that had the comment about how I’d been responsible for Daisy’s death. Which it seemed she might agree with, because she’d asked if I did the tattoo that killed her.
She knew who I was, and she’d been reluctant to tell me who she was. She had to be the blog’s Ainsley.
“We might as well get going,” Harry said regretfully. We made our way to the elevators and back down without any conversation. I was preoccupied with Ainsley. I bet Harry was, too, but for different reasons than me.
We walked along the canal toward the shop, our strides matching step for step. Just before we reached it, though, I stopped and put my hand on Harry’s arm.
“Tonight. I want to go see her sing,” I said. “Are you free?”
Harry grinned. “What else do I have to do? What time?”
I didn’t want to miss anything, but I did have a client coming in at eight and it would be at least a couple hours. I told myself that things didn’t get hopping in Sin City until at least eleven anyway.
“Meet me at the shop at ten thirty?”
“It’s a date.”
And as I heard those words and saw the way Harry was looking at me, I realized what I’d just done. While I merely wanted an excuse to go over there with Sherman Potter’s “old buddy,” Harry might be putting a little more weight on this than I meant. And when we got back to the shop, it was clear he was.
“Brett and I are going out later,” he announced to Bitsy, who was sitting at the front desk toying with her cell phone.
This was a totally bad thing. Because Bitsy can’t help herself. A wide smile spread across her face. “You’re going out on a date?” she asked eagerly. So much for her loyalty to Colin Bixby.
Harry nodded. “I’m picking her up here at ten thirty.” Bitsy beamed.
Now it would be all over. Joel would know. Ace would know. It could even spread as far as Murder Ink, and Jeff Coleman would find out. Bixby would hear about it. It would reach my brother, and even my mother in her retirement community in Port St. Lucie, Florida, would get the news.
“I’ve got, um, work to do,” I said quickly, wanting to go hide in the staff room until my client showed up.
“I’ll see you later,” Harry said, a suggestive tone in his voice.
I nodded and didn’t look at him or Bitsy, just scurried toward the staff room. I was starting a stencil when Joel and Bitsy appeared in the doorway.
“What?” I asked, irritation lacing my tone.
Bitsy grinned. “You make a nice-looking couple.”
“He’s had a crush on you forever,” Joel added.
Before I could react to that, Bitsy spoke again. “This is why you blew off the good doctor, isn’t it?” She rolled her eyes. “That relationship has been so doomed from the get-go. I’m glad you’re branching out.”
I had to stop her. “Harry’s gone, isn’t he?” I asked. They nodded.
“Well, let me tell you what’s really going on,” I said, launching into the story about Sherman Potter and the Flamingos’ new lead singer, Ainsley, who had to be-just had to be-the blogger who put those pictures up of me and Daisy. “And she’s a redhead,” I said, that small fact just dawning on me. What if she was the one who was seen leaving Daisy’s room at the Golden Palace? Where her “boyfriend,” Sherman Potter, just happened to be making some sort of deal?
It was all coming full circle, and I realized I should call Tim about it.
Joel had sat down at the table and was frowning at me. “You think you’ve got this all figured out?” he asked.
I shrugged. Seemed so.
“What’s this about this girl taking over for Daisy? Did Daisy ever mention that she wanted to leave the band?” Joel asked.
“He said she told him a month ago. I haven’t seen her since October.” It was February now, the end of February. While it was possible she’d decided to leave the band, it still nagged at me. She’d started the Flamingos. She was the driving force behind the band. I thought about the other four girls: Cara, Melanie, Tiffany, and Josie. Where were they? Did they know about Ainsley? Did they know about Daisy?
They must know by now.
“Do you really want to go out with Harry?” Joel asked. “I mean, I could’ve gone over there to Cleopatra’s Barge with you.”
“Believe me, I’d rather go with you,” I said. “It’s just that I said I wanted to go and the next thing, we were going together.” So it didn’t exactly happen like that, but it was close. “Why don’t you come with us?”
“I don’t want to step on Harry’s toes.” He was teasing. He had to be teasing. A smile tugged at the corner of
