Miles Carvello
I was happy for Jackie. It was pure selfishness that I hoped she got the job and stayed awhile in Vegas. The past week had been the best I’d had in a long time. She made things seem fresh and fun again. She reminded me that there was a world outside of Dalton’s. I was looking forward to seeing her reaction to the Moondust Cherry Ranch, but brothels weren’t really my thing. While I could see the appeal of the lack of strings attached when quick sex was a transaction, I imagined it got old really fast. I could save myself a grand by jacking off to online porn and get the same satisfaction.
In my experience with cathouses and the women who worked them, there were three types of hookers. The ones there to make as much money as possible in a short period of time gave good customer service, but nickel-and-dimed everything. The damaged ones looked for love and acceptance and got what they could from pleasing the customer. They did whatever it took to give the client a good time and keep them spending money because it made the house happy and it made her feel valued. And then there were the ones that liked sex and getting paid for it. They got paid for having fun. The last type were few and far between, no matter what hype the madam and her girls told you. And after listening to their mothers, I’d put Dee as a number one and Jackie’s sister as a number two—if she had made the jump to prostitute.
Grier was late and, while I appreciated that his undercover status made his schedule flexible, I wanted our business overand done with by the time Jackie came back from her audition. I knew she would be eager to get on the road to find out about her sister, but I was eager to spend some time making love to her first. And it seemed like she felt the same.
Liu and his cousins were in the kitchen making something delicious and I hoped Jackie wouldn’t think I was a cheapskate if I recommended we eat here before heading out. I wanted more intimate moments with her, like being in my apartment alone instead of surrounded by a hundred other people in a restaurant.
Miranda was lazily swaying around the pole when I went out to check on things. Grier was there at the front table, nursing a beer and a plate of nachos.
“You could have texted me that you were here.”
“I wanted to enjoy the show,” he said, not taking his eyes off Miranda.
Miranda couldn’t dance worth a squat, but her body was banging. The music was low, and the lights were high because it was early in the day.
“You might want to have a talk with her, though. She’s flashed me the goods a few times.”
I glared up at Miranda. She was looking at a two-thousand-dollar fine if she didn’t keep her bits covered. “Dip you tip her?”
“A twenty both times.” He grinned at me. “So you know I won’t bust her because that could be entrapment.”
“Stop leading my dancers into temptation.”
“I think I’m in love. Lighten up.”
“I can’t. Did you hear what happened last night?” I thanked Jilly, his waitress, when she came over with my usual club soda and lime.
“Yeah, from what I gathered some asshole sprayed something that smelled like gas and people panicked and you got shut down.” Grier couldn’t take his eyes off Miranda. I waspretty sure she wasn’t going to flash him again while I was sitting there.
“Let’s go back into my office and I’ll tell you why I think that might be related to a few findings I’ve had this week.”
Grier held up another twenty and Miranda hopped down from the stage. It never failed to amaze me that she did that in five-inch heels.
“Do you want a lap dance?” she purred.
“Later.” He tucked the bill into her G-string and if his fingers lingered a bit, neither one of them minded.
I headed over to my office. Grier knew the way. I had a moment to wish Jackie were here as I sat behind my desk. Grier walked in a few minutes later and closed the door behind him.
“Why am I here?” he asked, sitting in the armchair across from me. He still had half a beer, so I tossed him a coaster while I told him about Ginny selling drugs to frat boys in the dressing room and finding the stash in Paulie’s locker.
“Let me see the haul.”
I opened the safe and handed over the pistol and the drugs. “This was what I found in the locker.” Grier frowned and turned the bags over and over while he looked at them. He opened the one with the pills and squinted at the capsule. Then he took the powder and tentatively sniffed. Turning away, he sneezed into his shoulder.
“You made me come out here special for this shit? At least Miranda made it worth the trip,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
“There’s not enough weed here to make a profit. The powder could have traces of coke in it, but it’s mostly talc and I’m pretty sure these are over-the-counter allergy meds.” He waved the bag of pills.
“What the crap?”
“I’ll run a trace on the pistol, but I don’t think it will give us anything. Someone was either setting Paulie up or is fucking with you. Let me see Ginny’s stash.”
Getting the smaller baggies out of the safe, I looked them over and then tossed them to him. It seemed like the same shit to me. “Why would they be setting Paulie up?”