Page 36 of The Liar

“Can we speak to the other dancers?” I’d trust their take on things more than this weasel’s.

Keenan frowned and tilted his head, as if considering whether to refuse, but then relented. “Not for long. They have to get ready for a private show tonight.”

“We’ll be as fast as we can.” Hanson was more placating than me. I’d have preferred to point out that this was a murder investigation, and we’d take as long as we needed.

I stopped Keenan with one hand. “I’m sure you’re busy, but before you go, when was the last time you saw Sasha?”

“Tuesday evening.” He’d clearly given this some thought, since he had the answer ready. “She wasn’t scheduled that night, but she came to talk to one of the other girls. I’d guess she left around eight or nine.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

So, Sasha had left here at, say, 8:30 p.m. Dr. Kelly estimated the time of death to be between 11 p.m. and 1 a.m. What had happened in the two-and-a-half to four-and-a-half hours after she’d left the Red Letter?

“Which girl did she talk to?” Hanson asked, just as Keenan was turning away.

A flicker of calculation passed through his eyes, as if he was once again debating how much to say. “Portia. But she’s not here today. If you want to speak to her, you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

He presented us with his back, summarily dismissing us.

“Let me take the lead on these interviews,” I murmured to Hanson. The last thing I needed was him putting his foot in it and either saying something inappropriate or showing any kind of disdain for women who stripped for a living. I might not be warm and fuzzy, but I did my best to be respectful.

He agreed without protest, which surprised me, but perhaps he was simply glad for the opportunity to sit back and relax.

I circled around to the nearest dancer, a stunning Black woman in a hot pink tracksuit. “Excuse me, do you have a moment to answer a few questions about Sasha Sloane?”

Her gaze flicked over me, and I got the feeling I’d been assessed by someone far more astute than I might have expected. But then she put her hand on her hip and grinned.

“Sure thing, honey. What do you need to know?”

An hour later, we’d spoken to all the dancers present—although many of them hadn’t wanted to give us the time of day. Perhaps they’d had bad experiences with the police in the past, in which case, I understood their need to be wary.

We’d managed to ascertain a few facts. According to a particularly chatty dancer named Ruby, Sasha didn’t do any “touchy stuff,” which supported what Keenan had said. Sasha was—as far as anyone knew—strictly a performer.

When I’d asked if Sasha had ever been tempted to break that rule, perhaps for any rich clients, we’d been told her boyfriend wouldn’t let her do that. He was protective. Maybe even dangerously so. They all spoke about him in hushed tones, but when pressed, none of them had met the man. They didn’t even know his name.

Sasha Sloane’s boyfriend was a ghost.

As we trudged back down the stairs, dispirited by the lack of leads for us to follow, a pair of heels clacked on the vinyl behind us.

“Detectives,” a female voice hissed. “Wait up.”

I stopped and glanced over my shoulder. It was Sapphire, the first dancer I’d spoken to. She hunched down and looked around, as if to make sure no one could see her talking to us.

“What is it?” I asked, closing the distance between us.

“I remembered something. I don’t know if it’s helpful or not, but I thought it was worth mentioning.”

“What is it?” If she’d chased after us in order to share the details, I was willing to bet it had been playing on her mind more than she might want to admit.

Sapphire bit her lower lip. “I’ve seen Sasha with a man a couple of times. She never danced for him. At least, not as far as I could tell, but they talked.”

I perked up. “Her boyfriend?”

But she shook her head. “I asked and she said no. He was just some guy who liked to talk to her. Some customers are like that. They just want us to listen to them.”

Interesting. I guess exotic dancers might be like bartenders, in a sense.

“Do you remember what he looked like?” I asked.

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