“Honey, are you playing dumb or what? I thought you said you were a detective. Is this your act for getting me to spill the beans? Beautiful, sweet, innocent detective, looks like a lamb on the outside -- but is really a tiger underneath.”
Cindy respected how forthright she could be. “I’m new at this,” she said, “I need to hear whatever you can tell me.” The place was starting to get crowded and it was hard to hear over the din.
“I already told you” the woman said, “Paul was crafty, knew how to work the crowd, a few laughs here, a few smiles there. What for? I didn’t buy it. I could see his mind ticking off all kinds of things. I mean if there’s a wife waiting at home, what the hell was he doing hanging here?”
“Ever ask him that?”
“Come on. I know better. I come down here for the same thing he did. Company. Name is Andrea Bell, by the way. I own the spa two blocks down.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said Cindy.
The bartender returned. “She filling you in on the dirt in town?” He asked as he placed her drink in front of her.
“Come on Perry,” she said, “lighten up. You’re a different guy since Paul died. Don’t be so defensive.”
“Nothing to do with being defensive,” the bartender said, “just making sure that my friend gets his due respect.”
“You get respect if you deserve it,” said Andrea. “And it’s as simple as that.”
The bartender leaned in. “You think Paul didn’t deserve it?”
“Who knows?” said Andrea.
The bartender turned to Cindy then. “This is a woman,” he said, “who doesn’t trust anyone. It comes from working in that spa for too many years. Hearing too many stories, from too many losers in town.”
Cindy wondered if that would happen to her as well. Would she turn into another Andrea, doubting the motives of everyone?
“I’m a busy man,” the bartender said then, “I can’t stay here all night. You want to know more, come back and see me later.” And he left.
“That’s a hell of an invitation,” Andrea said and kicked Cindy’s foot under the bar. “You come back and you’ll get more than conversation. You here alone?” she said.
“For tonight,” said Cindy.
“My partner Mattheus is out of town right now. Why?”
“Look, you got to know the lay of the land here. It’s not so smart to prowl around on your own. Especially in a dress like that. Looks like you’re out for a hot evening. But maybe you are? How do I know?”
“I’m not,” Cindy said. “I’m out tonight to find out more about Paul and what happened to him.”
“What do you want to know?” Andrea asked point blank.
“Did he have a mistress? Was there someone he met here, or somewhere else?”
“I already told you,” Andrea went on, “he chatted up lots of people.”
“But was there one in particular?” Cindy sensed that Andrea knew more than she let on.
“And if there was,” Andrea whispered, “what’s in it for me?”
“You’d be helping out his wife, Kendra. The police are zeroed in on her.”
“I couldn’t care less about helping out Kendra.”
Cindy was shocked. “You’ve something against her?”
“Not in particular, but I’m not the kind to help out wives in distress.” She smiled broadly then. “Honest is honest. What else could be in it for me?”
“How much do you want?” asked Cindy.
Andrea smiled again. She had a tough charm. “Okay, you win. Buy the drinks I had tonight and the next one I’ll order and we’ll call it a deal.”
Cindy took some cash out of her bag, as Andrea wrote something down on a paper cocktail napkin. She wrote it in a sprawling, slightly shaky handwriting. Cindy looked at the letters carefully. It was the name of a woman, Heather May. The writing was similar to the note she’d found -- similar, but not a match.
“Who is she?” Cindy asked.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” she said, tossed her hair back and got up to leave. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”
“The pleasure’s all mind,” Cindy said.
Cindy folded the napkin and put it in her pocket book. She wanted to get going. It was hot in here, the place was packed and the noise of the band was too loud by now. Then, just as she was about to stand up, Cindy turned towards the doorway. Nojo, was standing there, staring, blocking the door. Cindy stopped cold.
Then she walked towards the door, squeezing through the crowd. A few guys smiled at her as she wound her way through. When she got to the entrance, Nojo was blocking it.
“Hot out on the town?” he muttered under his breath, as Cindy stood in front of him.
Cindy pretended not to hear.
“Too bad your friend isn’t here to watch over you now,” Nojo spoke louder, chewing gum loudly.
Cindy tried to maneuver by.
“If there’s one thing I hate,” Nojo mumbled loudly, his voice louder, “it’s snooty ladies who won’t give you the time of day.”
Cindy stopped in her tracks and stared him right in the eyes. “You’re blocking my way,” she said her voice edgy and rough, a fierce anger suddenly rising in her.
Nojo wiped the grin off his face fast and moved to the side.
“See you later, doll,” he drawled ominously, as Cindy slid past him out onto into the turbulent night.