Chapter 3

"Name's Jack Jericho. I'm a private investigator. I'm looking into the deaths of Joanie and DeeDee. Know anything?"

"You don't beat around the bush," she says. "Think I had something to do with it?"

"You don't look like the type," I admit. "But then I've been wrong in the past."

She takes a sip from her drink. "They were good girls. Broke my heart when I found out. Guess you could say I'm kind of the mother hen Around here. I watch out for these girls. Try to keep them out of trouble." She shrugs. "Guess I didn't do such a good job."

"Got any theories?"

Lora lets out a bitter little laugh. "Dozens, each as unlikely as the next. How do you explain someone falling out a window that doesn't open? It makes no sense. All I know is that the girls are scared too."

"Well, if it was a murderer," I tell her, "I'll catch the one that did it."

Lora looks up at me. Her red lips part slightly. I can see a crow's feet just beginning at the corners of her green eyes, but age hasn't caught up with her yet. She nods slowly and says, "You know, I almost want to believe you."

"Any reason not to?"

"A girl like me has been lied to by a lot of men, Mr. Jericho."

"Call me Jack."

"Call me Lora," she says. "In fact. Call me anytime."

While me and Lora chat, the effeminate Jeffery takes the stage again and introduces Sissy Tease. Only this time the curtain doesn't part. The spot light creates a bright round disk on the crimson folds. The first thrumming bass note rings out and a slender leg pokes through the curtain. An arm, holding an oriental fan, follows. Now the curtains draws apart to reveal Sissy. A pair of matching fans is her entire outfit. Sormehow she manages to sing and dance without ever baring the goods. I watch the fan play with rapt attention, only coming back to reality when Lora Lust snaps her fingers under my nose.

"Guess we know what you like," she says.

I shrug. "She's got plenty of..."

Lora raises her eyebrow.

"Talent," I finish.

"She's alright," Lora says. "I was better."

I grin. Lora's got spirit. Moreover, she's got a certain light in her eyes, especially when she looks at me. It's been a while since a while since a good-looking dame gave me the come hither. Might be worth my time and effort. But right now you're got a job to do.

"Let me ask you a question." I peel my eyes off the floor show and say, "Sissy told me about a fella, a customer, that makes the girls nervous. Wears a ring with a five pointed star on his pinkie. Know him?"

Lora ****** her chin at a guy in the back row. He's in a dark coat with his shoulders pulled up and head ducked forward like an overgrown vulture. He's got a hook nose and beady eyes to complete the comparison. He watches the stage, while I watch him, and he keeps toying the pentagram on his pinkie finger.

"That's him," Lora says. "He gives off a real creep vibe. I think he has something to do with all the strange stuff going on.?"

"Right now I'm not ruling anybody out," I tell her.

Lora checks a clock on the wall behind the bar. "I've got to get backstage and make sure all my ladies are ready. The next act is a real show stopper. Stick around and maybe we can chat after, yeah?"

"Alright, doll."

Lora uses a side door and I return my attention to the vulture in the back row. He's still toying with his ring. Sissy's on stage doing her thing. it's hard to keep my eye on him and off the show, but I manage and a good thing too. While I watch, he starts muttering something to himself. The music is too loud to hear what he is saying, but his lips are moving and he starts rocking back and forth in his seat. Sweat beads on his pale forehead.

The air around me starts to crackle and hiss. The small hairs at the back of my neck stand on end. This is black magic. I've felt it before. It's like standing too close to an open electrical line. Gooseflesh breaks out on my arms and a shiver runs up my spine. The crowd can fell it. They shift in there seats, a few even look around, but they don't know what to make of this strange uneasy feeling that. Most will pass it off as a sudden cold spell or too much drink. A few of the more sensitive ones will be extra-sure to lock the door when they get home. Remembering the last time I dealt with dark magic will keep me awake tonight.

If Mr. Vulture is casting a spell, tackling him should end it. One the other hand, although Mr. Vulture is acting suspicious, I've been wrong about people before. Besides, he's farther away from me than Sissy is. Maybe my priority should be to protect my client first and the bad guy later.

The steady crescendo of Sissy's song and the feeling of wild electricity in the air weave together into something palpable. Whatever is going on, it's going to happen before Sissy finishes her act.

I run for the stage, weaving between tables, ignoring angry shouts from jostled customers and leap into the raised platform. Sissy sees me and her eyes go wild. Overhead metal twists and shrinks. An amplifier sparks and shorts out. I barrel into Sissy, wrapping my hands around her narrow waist. Her fans go sailing through the air. I land on top of her.

The lightning scaffold tears away from the ceiling with a terrific screech and crashes down on the stage in a shower of twisted metal and broken glass. I and Sissy are safe, but just barely. The scaffold came down where she stood only a few minutes ago. The music has stopped and the customers, most of them are running for the exits. I cough to clear the smoke and dust from my lungs and manage to choke out, "You alright?"

"I'm alive." She looks up into my eyes and adds, "Because of you."

"Thank me later." I scramble off Sissy and climb over the wreck of the scaffold, looking for Mr. Vulture. He's on his feet, staring up at the stage, the fingers of his left hand still toying with the pentagram ring on his right pinkie. I and he lock eyes. For a moment, those dark eyes bore into mine. If looks could kill.

In that moment, he turns and flees. I could try to follow from a distance.

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