Formica-topped tables. Plastic chairs clustered around each one, and a dark blue, vinyl sofa with light gray throw pillows, the color scheme of the club, rested against the wall.
Honeybee sat at one of the tables, sipping thick black coffee out of a Styrofoam cup, the only person in the lounge.
He walked in her direction, paused a few feet away. “I’m John Riggs,” he said. “We met last week. You helped me locate a guy named Ray Carroll.”
The redhead gave him a slow, sexy smile, her green eyes lingering a little too long on the bulge beneath the zipper of his jeans.
“I remember you, honey. What can I do for you this time?”
Clearly she was offering more than information and Amy’s pretty lips thinned, a good sign, he thought.
“What were you and Rachael Brewer fighting about?”
Bee didn’t bother to deny it, just shrugged her shoulders. Dressed in the two-piece, blue satin costume the girls wore to serve drinks, she was at least five foot ten, with a mane of fiery-red hair that tumbled in wild disarray around her shoulders. She was a pretty woman, though the years she had spent in the business were beginning to show.
“Silk didn’t approve of the way I was raising my kid,” Bee said.
“That right?”
“Yeah, that’s right. I don’t have an old man, so Jimmy don’t have a father. Silk thought I ought to do both jobs.”
“How old is he?”
“Jimmy’s almost four.”
“So you fought with her over the boy? Did it come to physical blows?”
Bee just laughed. “Are you kidding? Silk tried to convince me I should see the kid more often. I told her if she thought he was so neglected, she could take my place and visit him herself.”
“Which I’m betting she did,” Amy added. “If Rachael thought someone needed mothering, she wouldn’t have been able to resist.”
“Yeah, she went to see him,” Bee said. “Jimmy was crazy about her. He hasn’t been the same since she left.”
“Is that what you think happened?” Johnnie asked. “Rachael packed up and left?”
Bee fiddled with her cup, pressed a long red nail into the soft foam rim. “I don’t think Silk would have left Jimmy without saying goodbye. She had all the motherly instincts I never had. I think something happened to her. Silk and me, we were never friends. We were just too different. But she was good to Jimmy and I wouldn’t have wished anything bad on her.”
The Styrofoam squeaked as Bee set the cup down on the table and stood up. “Look, I’ve got to go. I need to change and be onstage in fifteen minutes.”
“Thanks, Bee,” Johnnie said.
“Anytime, hon.” Bee flicked Amy a dismissive glance, then strode out of the lounge.
Johnnie set a hand at Amy’s waist, urging her to follow.
“She and I aren’t best of friends, either,” Amy said as they stood outside the door, “but I believe her. I don’t think Bee had any part in my sister’s disappearance.”
“Rachael was concerned about Bee’s son,” Johnnie said. “Whatever she says, she’s still a mother. I think she was grateful for Rachael’s help. She had no reason to hurt her.”
Amy’s gaze went toward the stairs. “My shift starts in twenty minutes. I’ve got to wash my hair and get ready.” Even in the low light backstage, he could see those big blue eyes looking up at him, and heat settled low in his groin.
Johnnie thought of her gorgeous little body in that tiny red G-string, dancing in front of a bar full of leering men, and his stomach knotted. He wanted to haul her out of there, demand she quit, tell her she didn’t belong in a place like this. But he had no say over her.
Hell, he hadn’t even taken her to bed. Instead, he was living in a constant state of arousal. It had to end and soon. Christ, he needed a woman. Unfortunately, now that he’d met Amy, no other woman would do.
He cleared his throat but his words still came out husky. “I’ll see you at ten.” Turning, he forced himself to walk away, trying not to
Honeybee sat at one of the tables, sipping thick black coffee out of a Styrofoam cup, the only person in the lounge.
He walked in her direction, paused a few feet away. “I’m John Riggs,” he said. “We met last week. You helped me locate a guy named Ray Carroll.”
The redhead gave him a slow, sexy smile, her green eyes lingering a little too long on the bulge beneath the zipper of his jeans.
“I remember you, honey. What can I do for you this time?”
Clearly she was offering more than information and Amy’s pretty lips thinned, a good sign, he thought.
“What were you and Rachael Brewer fighting about?”
Bee didn’t bother to deny it, just shrugged her shoulders. Dressed in the two-piece, blue satin costume the girls wore to serve drinks, she was at least five foot ten, with a mane of fiery-red hair that tumbled in wild disarray around her shoulders. She was a pretty woman, though the years she had spent in the business were beginning to show.
“Silk didn’t approve of the way I was raising my kid,” Bee said.
“That right?”
“Yeah, that’s right. I don’t have an old man, so Jimmy don’t have a father. Silk thought I ought to do both jobs.”
“How old is he?”
“Jimmy’s almost four.”
“So you fought with her over the boy? Did it come to physical blows?”
Bee just laughed. “Are you kidding? Silk tried to convince me I should see the kid more often. I told her if she thought he was so neglected, she could take my place and visit him herself.”
“Which I’m betting she did,” Amy added. “If Rachael thought someone needed mothering, she wouldn’t have been able to resist.”
“Yeah, she went to see him,” Bee said. “Jimmy was crazy about her. He hasn’t been the same since she left.”
“Is that what you think happened?” Johnnie asked. “Rachael packed up and left?”
Bee fiddled with her cup, pressed a long red nail into the soft foam rim. “I don’t think Silk would have left Jimmy without saying goodbye. She had all the motherly instincts I never had. I think something happened to her. Silk and me, we were never friends. We were just too different. But she was good to Jimmy and I wouldn’t have wished anything bad on her.”
The Styrofoam squeaked as Bee set the cup down on the table and stood up. “Look, I’ve got to go. I need to change and be onstage in fifteen minutes.”
“Thanks, Bee,” Johnnie said.
“Anytime, hon.” Bee flicked Amy a dismissive glance, then strode out of the lounge.
Johnnie set a hand at Amy’s waist, urging her to follow.
“She and I aren’t best of friends, either,” Amy said as they stood outside the door, “but I believe her. I don’t think Bee had any part in my sister’s disappearance.”
“Rachael was concerned about Bee’s son,” Johnnie said. “Whatever she says, she’s still a mother. I think she was grateful for Rachael’s help. She had no reason to hurt her.”
Amy’s gaze went toward the stairs. “My shift starts in twenty minutes. I’ve got to wash my hair and get ready.” Even in the low light backstage, he could see those big blue eyes looking up at him, and heat settled low in his groin.
Johnnie thought of her gorgeous little body in that tiny red G-string, dancing in front of a bar full of leering men, and his stomach knotted. He wanted to haul her out of there, demand she quit, tell her she didn’t belong in a place like this. But he had no say over her.
Hell, he hadn’t even taken her to bed. Instead, he was living in a constant state of arousal. It had to end and soon. Christ, he needed a woman. Unfortunately, now that he’d met Amy, no other woman would do.
He cleared his throat but his words still came out husky. “I’ll see you at ten.” Turning, he forced himself to walk away, trying not to
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