Milo said, “Not much in the way of ambience. If they are pulling tricks, it’s outcall not in-call.”
I said, “Serena said Claire’s mother was ‘also a model.’ Maybe these are work duds.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Or it’s the euphemism of the month. Like ‘dancing’ for Ms. Kimbee.”
Wincing as he mentioned the name. For over a week, he’d been living with his victim as a wisp. Now she had an identity and a home and the pain of her murder was seeping into his bones the way it always did.
Faint padding footsteps previewed the women’s reappearance. Both had removed their bras and put on gauzy midriff tops that proved more revealing. Black tights, green tights.
The two of them folded lithe bodies, graceful as origami, and settled on the carpet. Exemplary posture, legs folded yoga-like, hands on firm thighs.
They closed their eyes, breathed a couple of times, looked straight at us.
“Okay,” said Serena. “We’re ready.”
Claire sniffed and poked at a corner of her eye and looked doubtful.
Milo said, “Sorry to drop it on you like this. Unfortunately there’s no good way to deliver bad news.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” said Claire. “My insides are pretty much filled up with bad news.”
Serena said, “I told them about your mom.”
Milo said, “So sorry.”
Claire said, “Aneurysm, she’s doing her Pilates and it just…” She lowered her head, let it dangle.
Serena put her arm around her friend and drew her near. “Hey, girl.”
Claire looked up. “I’m fine.”
I said, “It’s great that you’re here for each other.”
Serena said, “We go back to elementary. I was in fifth, she moved from Boise, was in fourth—can I tell them the story, Cee?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’re sure?”
Nod.
“Okay,” said Serena. “She’s super hot now but back then she was kind of short and kind of a little chubby and she got ragged on.”
Claire said, “I was a fat nerd, mean bitches tortured me.” Slowly spreading smile. “You kicked some butt, girl.”
Serena grinned. “Four brothers, you learn to take care of yourself.” She held up a fist and growled.
Claire giggled. “Warrior Princess kicks it.”
I said, “Where’d you guys grow up?”
“Spokane,” said Serena. “I was always there, like I said, she moved.”
“How long have you been in L.A.?”
“Two years. No work in Spokane so first we moved to the west side—Seattle, then down to Portland. Then we learned if you’re serious about working, it needs to be here or New York or someplace like that.”
I said, “Modeling.”
“Not the skinny-ass fashion bullshit,” said Serena. “We’re not seven feet tall and we have real boobs and booties.” Running her hands over said assets. “We’re not gonna starve and smoke ourselves into cancer.”
Claire said, “You could be tall enough.”
“Five-six?” said Serena. “No way, baby girl.” She laughed. “She thinks I’m giant because she’s an elf—five-two.”
“And a half,” said Claire.
Serena smirked. “Right. She’s a toon but she’s got the bod. A lot of the jobs, she gets them first and then she brings me in.”
“You do fine by yourself,” said Claire. “You got the NAMM.”
I said, “You guys do trade shows?”
Serena said, “That’s our specialty. We straight model, which is basically standing around being hot, or we’re brand ambassadors, which is we do demos while being hot. Like the auto show, we did it this year, I got Subaru, she got Kia. You open and close doors, get inside with the geeks, show them what buttons do what.”
Milo said, “What’s NAMM?”
I said, “National Association of Music Merchants.”
He looked at me.
I played a couple seconds of air guitar.
Claire’s black eyes sparked. “You’re a musician?”
“Amateur.”
“Oh.”
Serena said, “NAMM’s huge and crazy loud. When we do it next year, we’re bringing earplugs.”
Claire said, “Loud and boring but we made serious brass.”
“Serious,” said Serena. To us. “We’re saving up to own a ranch.” Big grin. “Then we get our cowboys, hey?”
“Hey.”
“We’ll need them because we are not going to shovel horseshit, they want to get with us, they’re paying dues.”
Milo grinned. “Sounds like a plan.”
“It’s an awesome plan,” said Serena. “Rabbits, little ponies, baby goats—they’re friendly like dogs. And they’ll be safe forever, we’re vegan.”
Claire said, “We love animals but we can’t keep a single pet here. Not even a friggin’ turtle.”
Serena said, “Landlord’s a dick.”
I said, “Did Kimbee like animals?”
Smiles died, eyes dropped. “She never said she didn’t.”
“Where’d you guys meet her?”
Serena said, “At NAMM.”
I’d been to the show with Robin a few times, knew the scheduling. “Last January.”
Serena said, “Not last, the one before that.”
“What was she doing there?”
“Same as us, some guitar thing,” said Serena. “It’s all mostly guitar. You wear a bikini and move a little while these old rockers play.”
“Mummy Boys,” said Claire, laughing.
Milo said, “That’s a band?”
Serena said, “Uh-uh, that’s a description. They have leather skin and wear leather. Their hair extensions do not work. We call ’em Mummy Boys.”
Claire said, “We like guys clean and lean. Like a military dude.”
“Your boyfriends are military?”
“We don’t have boyfriends,” said Serena. “We’re picky.”
“Mummy Boys hit on us whenever we do NAMM,” said Claire. She stuck out her tongue.
“Doing it with King Tut?” said Serena. “I don’t think so.”
I said, “NAMM’s huge. How’d you meet Kimbee?”
Serena said, “In the lounge, taking a break. I saw her before that. Up on this revolving platform, wearing this leopard thong bikini you needed an excellent wax for and red five-inchers. They put tons of bronzer on her and did like half her head in cornrows. She said it gave her a headache.”
“What company hired her?”
“No idea.”
Claire said, “She didn’t have to move much ’cause of the revolving stage. A real old Mummy’s thrashing and she’s going round and round.”
“Excellent balance,” said Serena. “Long as you work the legs, they always want the leg thing.”
I said, “What’s that?”
Springing up, she set her feet several feet apart. Solemnity gave way to a sexy pout that bordered on hostility, followed by an exuberant hair toss and the lowering of eyelids. Bending her left leg, she put her weight into the stretch.
“Good for the quads,” said Claire, “but after a while it starts to hurt.”
Serena said, “You’re making like you’re a cat.” Purring in illustration.
Claire said, “A wildcat. Like you’re ready to spring and jump on any guy.”
“Got it,” I said. “So Kimbee was good at the leg thing.”
“We all are, it’s part of the job.”
She rose with identical grace and assumed the same pose, her back to her friend. Feline bookends.
“It’s no big deal,” said Serena. “Not like ballet where you’re torturing yourself. That’s what Kimbee studied.”
Claire bit her lip. “You’re police so the way it happened—it was bad, huh?”
Milo said, “Unfortunately, you’re right. This is a homicide investigation.”
She sighed. Both women seemed to wither. They settled back down on the floor.
“It’s crazy,” said Claire. “Why would anyone hurt her? She was easy, real nice.”
I said, “Good roommate.”
“She was cool,” said Serena.
Milo took out his pad. “Where’d she study ballet?”
“New York, that place—Juilliard.”
“When?”
“She didn’t say. Just that it was crazy hard. And painful.”
“Where else did she live besides New York?”
Claire said, “All she mentioned was Vegas.”
“What’d she do in Vegas?”
“Dancing.”
Milo said, “Any idea where in Vegas?”
Shrugs and head shakes.
Serena said, “We didn’t talk about it much. She didn’t talk much, period.”
Milo gave me eye-encouragement.
I said, “So you met her at NAMM and decided to live together.”