Page 30 of Body Count

“Lola Wheeler.”

After a long moment, he crossed the room to talk to a bouncer-type who was standing near the stage door.When he came back, he was giving me more looks.Wounded.Even a little pouty.It shouldn’t have looked good on a guy his size, but it was kind of working for him.

The music changed again.The guy in overalls went back to the buffet for the French toast sticks.The disco ball stopped spinning, and multicolored lights began to strobe and swivel across the stage.The girl finished her ride, and Granddad put on a pair of cheaters so he could count out her tip.

I didn’t spot Tip’s mom until she was halfway across the room, and it took me a moment to recognize her as the woman from the hospital.The Barbie hair was the same, although more teased and styled and sprayed.And those tiddies were definitely the same.But tonight, Lola Wheeler hadgiven herself the works with the makeup—smoky eyes and contouring and all that shit—and she was wrapped up in a thing that probably wasn’t silk but I was sure she called a kimono.She could have passed for twenty years younger if you didn’t look at her neck or her hands.

She stopped next to my stool, her arms folded under her breasts, her chin raised.“What?”she said.And then she looked more closely at me and said, “I know you.”

“Hello, Mrs.Wheeler.”

“You’re the cop.”

“Detective Gray Dulac, Wahredua PD.I was hoping you had a few minutes to talk.”I glanced around.“Somewhere private.”

“I’m not on for twenty minutes.Can’t we just sit here?”Before I could argue, she plopped down on the stool next to me.In the process—by some massive coincidence—the kimono-type-thing rode up her thighs several inches, and also managed to come apart at the top, so that her breasts were about ninety percent exposed.She arched her back to make sure I had a good look and said, “Ricky, be a sweetheart and get me a Bud Light.”

Ricky the bartender gave me a dirty look.

“Don’t worry about him,” Lola said, and she laughed and put her hand on my leg.“He’s all bark, and I bet the only biting he does is real fun.”She had long nails, and she scratched my knee as she spoke.

Ricky gave her a Bud Light, did a little more pouting for my benefit, and then moved off down the bar.The guy who’d been ripping into that chicken thigh was beckoning to him.He needed a napkin, it looked like.

Lola took a sip of her beer.Her nails moved restlessly against my knee, and she watched me from under that smoky makeup.

“Mrs.Wheeler, I’m trying to find Tip.Do you have any idea where he is?”

The only sign of confusion was that her hand stopped moving for a moment.Then she said, “What do you mean?”

I filled her in.

When I finished, she reached into the kimono and took out a phone.She unlocked it, placed a call, and listened to what I guessed was a recorded message.Then she said, “This is your mother.Call me back right now.”

She set the phone on the bar and took a longer drink.Her eyes never left the phone.But Tip didn’t call back, and after a couple of minutes, the screen went black.She picked it up again and pecked out a message.She forgot all about my knee, thank God.This time, when the screen dimmed, she woke it again and sent a second message.And a third.

“Where is he?”she asked me.“What happened to him?”

“Tip didn’t mention anything to you about leaving town or taking a trip?”

“No!”She stretched across the bar.The kimono slid up to expose most of her ass and a pink polka-dot thong.One of the guys watching the show caught a glance and forgot all about the girl on stage.When Lola settled back into her seat, she was holding a pack of Marlboro Reds.She tapped one out with a practiced hand, lit up, and stared hard into the middle distance as she puffed.

“Smoking indoors is illegal,” I said.“As is the sale of alcohol at a strip club.As is the touching, the full nudity—”

She flicked a look at me, and all the playfulness flaked away.“What are you going to do about it?”

“Maybe I’m going to arrest you.”

With a disgusted look, she blew out a stream of smoke.“Tip wouldn’t have gone anywhere without telling me.”

I didn’t say anything.

“He wouldn’t!We tell each other everything!”

“You and Tip are close?”

“He’s my son.I’m his mother.”

“I understand Tip has disappeared before.”

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