Cemetery Girl

“What kind of bad vibe?” I asked.

 

She looked away. “I don’t know. Some guys I can tell are just going to be relaxed and easygoing. Regular guys who are just doing this for fun.” She kind of smiled, as though thinking of a distant but pleasant memory. But the smile passed quickly, and she looked back at me. “But there are other types. I know all about them. They have something else on their mind. Do you know what that is?”

 

She seemed to be waiting for an answer, so I provided one.

 

“Sex?” I asked.

 

She shook her head. “I wish.” She shook her head again. “No, these guys want to hurt somebody. Girls, mainly. They want to control a girl or clamp down on her. They want to use her for something, overpower them.”

 

“Did this man hurt you?” I asked.

 

“He came into room three,” she said, “where I was waiting. He was older, in his fifties probably. His hair was kind of long and greasy, and it was going gray. He was ugly. His nose was wide and fat, his skin was kind of puffy. He looked right at me and came over to the bench, and I almost just gave him his money back right there and told him to forget it. We have bouncers and everything. They listen for trouble, and they’re good, but being in the room with that guy made my skin crawl.” She shivered just thinking about it, and I assumed her feeling was a cousin to the icy sensation that still possessed my body. “Then I saw the girl behind him.”

 

“Caitlin?” I asked.

 

She nodded.

 

Liann reached over and placed her hand on top of mine. She didn’t say anything, and while her touch felt warm, it brought no real comfort.

 

“I’ve danced for couples before,” Tracy said. “Plenty of times. It wasn’t that weird. But I’d never danced for a couple like that. At first I thought maybe they were father and daughter. Hell, maybe he was her grandfather. But then he reached out and took her hand and pulled her close, and I got it. I understood what was going on between them two. They were a couple.”

 

“Tom?” Liann asked. “Are you okay? Are you going to be sick?”

 

I didn’t know. I didn’t answer. But I did feel like I was coming down with something. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if I was going to keep everything down, if the beer and greasy food was going to come pouring back out of me in a hot, messy rush.

 

Liann was up and almost immediately came back with another cup of club soda. The sickness eased; my temperature regulated.

 

“Do you want to stop, Tom?” Liann asked. “We can do this another day.”

 

I shook my head.

 

“I know it’s hard to hear,” Tracy said, although she didn’t sound all that sympathetic.

 

“Why didn’t you tell this to the police back then?” I asked. “Why are you telling us this now?”

 

Liann stepped in. “Tracy didn’t make the connection until she saw the stories and the picture in the paper this week, the stories about Caitlin’s service. When she saw them, she called me. Like Tracy said, I’ve helped her out before when she’s had a little trouble. And some other members of her family as well. It was no big deal, just kid stuff. She’s over that now, though.” Liann reached out and placed that comforting, motherly hand on Tracy’s arm again. “She trusts me.”

 

“You remembered Caitlin all that time later?” I asked Tracy. “You recognized her picture in the paper?”

 

“I’d seen you before,” she said. “And then . . .” Her voice trailed off.

 

I looked from her to Liann, waiting for the rest. “And?” I asked.

 

“Go on, Tracy,” Liann said. “Tell him.”

 

I wanted to tell her to stop. I wanted to say, No more. It felt like the muscle fiber in my heart was rending, tearing apart.

 

But I couldn’t stop listening.

 

“He went and sat down, the guy. And the girl—” She paused. “Your daughter sat in the chair across from him. You know what a lap dance is, right?”

 

I’d been to enough bachelor parties to get the picture, and Liann nodded, too. “They make us do it reverse cowgirl style,” Tracy said. “They want us to face away from the guy, so only our butt touches his lap. And we’re dressed, of course. That’s the law. And with us facing away, I guess they figure it’s less likely the guy’s going to get all handsy or something. I don’t know why they think that. If a guy’s going to get handsy, he’ll do it no matter what, right? But when this guy asked me to face him, I felt nervous. I mean, he was already creeping me out and everything, and then he brought the girl with him, your girl, and I just didn’t feel right.” She sighed. “But I didn’t feel like I could say no to him. We’re not supposed to say no unless we really feel like we’re in danger, and I couldn’t say I felt in danger. And I needed the money and the job. So I went along. And everything went fine. He didn’t lay a hand on me.”

 

She paused and lit another cigarette.