Hour Game

They sat at a small table around which were placed four chairs. The room looked comfy enough, although King caught himself staring at the rumpled bed in the corner and the array of lingerie piled there. He turned to find Michelle's severe gaze on him.

"So you knew Rhonda?" asked King.

"Yes, sir."

King ran his eye over her. She was so young-looking that had he seen her half-naked rubbing against a pole, he would have probably thrown a blanket over her and called her father to come retrieve her. "Have the police already talked to you?"

"Yes, sir, the FBI actually. That's what they said they were anyway."

"Can you tell us what you told them?"

"Yes, sir."

"You don't have to call me sir, Pam. I'm Sean, this is Michelle."

Pam looked at her stubby toes with the cracked polish and crossed one pudgy foot over the other. "Sorry, I guess I'm sorta nervous, Sean."

Michelle patted her hand. "There's nothing to be nervous about."

"I mean with Rhonda getting killed and all. I guess it could've been any one of us, though Rhonda took chances I never would."

"What sort of chances?" asked King.

"We worked the same clubs together. She'd go off with men she didn't even know if they were nice to her. I only been doing this a couple of years, and I know better than that. But she always came back." Pam dabbed at some tears. "Only this time she didn't."

"Do you have any idea whom she went off with this time?" asked Michelle.

"No. Like I told them others, sometimes she tells me before she goes, other times not. This time she didn't." She took a sip of her coffee and wiped her thick lips with the back of a shaky hand. King noted that her red nail polish was chipped.

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"Couple of weeks before they found her. Our contracts were up here, but I signed on for another month. I like it here. The pay's good, and the folks here treat us nice. Not that many places give you a room and meals and all."

"And no customers back here to bother you, I take it," said King.

"No, sir, none of that," she said. "They're real particular about that."

"Did you ever see her with anyone, a man you didn't know? Did she mention anyone she was seeing?"

"No, nothing like that. Sorry."

He handed her one of his cards. "If you remember anything else, give us a call."

Both lost in thought, King and Michelle walked outside to her truck.

King was eyeing the full parking lot. "Hard to believe people find the time in the middle of the day to come here."

"It's pretty sick if you ask me," said Michelle. She was still frowning as she settled behind the wheel. "Do you know you have to be twenty-one to watch strippers, but you only have to be eighteen to be one? How does that make sense?"

King lowered himself into the passenger seat. "Granted it's ridiculous and degrading. Is that why you're in such a bad mood?"

"No! The legendary Aphrodisiac was a complete waste of time, that's why."

"How can you say that? Not only did you get a job offer as a pole dancer, which could actually come in handy when our firm's going through the inevitable lean times, but you also might have a real friend in Heidi."

A second later King was rubbing his arm where she'd slugged him. "Damn, that really hurt, Michelle," he complained.

"And it'll hurt even more if you keep it up."

CHAPTER 41

JUNIOR DEAVER STEPPED OUTSIDE his half-built house and looked at the dark sky. The man was tired, having worked all day on other people's jobs before heading here to drive nails into shingles and plywood. He'd finished right before the light was gone, and then worked some on the inside. They were all looking forward to getting out of the cramped trailer.

However, the upcoming criminal trial was weighing heavily on his mind. Lulu never stopped talking about it. Could be the ruin of all our dreams, she kept saying. What if Mrs. Battle sued them? It would all be over. Then his mother-in-law would start in, and once started, Priscilla Oxley never shut up. Junior had experienced many lows in life. This one ranked right up there with the worst.

He thought about Remmy Battle's offer. If only he had something to give her. It pissed him off that no one seemed to believe him. Yet with all the evidence stacked against him he could understand how the woman thought he was guilty.

As he munched on a sandwich and sipped a beer he'd pulled from his cooler, he mulled over some things in his head. He could end this thing right now if he wanted-just tell the truth of what he'd been doing that night-but he'd rather go to jail. He just couldn't do that to Lulu. It'd been stupid, really stupid. But he couldn't take it back now.

He finished his sandwich. His cell phone was vibrating with a box full of messages. He hated the damn thing; everybody wanted something right now. He checked the list of calls. One had him puzzled: Sean King. Wonder what he wants, Junior thought. Well, it would have to wait.