CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Valentina Russo had undersold the place.
While Jessie could see how the space might be used for conventional parties, maybe even corporate events, that’s not the vibe it gave off this afternoon. As she expected, the lighting was very dim. She doubted she’d be able to see many faces clearly, even without the masks.
There was pulsating music that could best be described as menacing, low-grade techno. A droning, propulsive beat was adorned by relentless percussion and intermittent vocal groaning. It was exactly what she would have expected.
There were strobe lights placed at strategic locations, along with several ceiling disco balls that sprayed muted, kaleidoscopic rays of color everywhere. To add to the sense of displacement, there were multiple fog machines draping the whole space in an unsettling haze.
As they passed from the utility room entrance into the main room, complete with the bar in the back, she tried to count how many people were there. It was hard to be sure with all the visual distractions, but in this room alone, there were at least two dozen folks. She had no idea if that was the majority of the partygoers or if some guests had already split off into the adjoining rooms.
Seeing all these guests with masks on was an adjustment. She was used to being able to glean details about people by studying their expressions, but that wasn’t possible here. Since she didn’t feel like making assumptions based on the styling of their masks, she was at a real disadvantage.
“Our masks don’t look noticeably different than everyone else’s,” Susannah said with relief. “I don’t think we’re going to get called out on them.”
“I hope you’re right,” Jessie said, “because I just had a thought that should have occurred to me earlier.”
“What?”
“Because of my unwanted semi-celebrity status as a profiler, some of these people might recognize me. If I have to take this mask off, it could blow our whole cover.”
“Then you’ll just have to find a way to distract them so they don’t ask you to remove it,” Susannah said as they neared the bar. “Also, I’m thinking that maybe we should split up. We might seem more approachable and less intimidating if we don’t look like we’re here as a pair.”
“Susannah, you’re an intimidating presence all by yourself, but I take your point. I’m going to do a loop of the place.”
They parted ways. Susannah continued in the direction of the bar. Jessie wandered around as casually as she could toward a room just off to the left of the main one. It was about the size of a large living room, with four high-top cocktail tables in the middle, with four plush sofas surrounding them in a square.
There were already three couples making out on the plastic-covered couches. Well, not actually making out. Because of the masks, they could better be described as pressing their “faces” against their partners’ necks, ears, and shoulders. To Jessie it seemed both deeply unsexy and more important, ineffective. But they seemed to be enjoying themselves.
On the fourth couch, another couple had moved on to more than just kissing. It took Jessie a moment to process that it wasn’t actually a couple but a threesome, all writhing around, seemingly in rhythm with the music.
She left that room and, over the next fifteen minutes, checked out the others, trying to look more curious than uncomfortable. No one approached her. She didn’t know if she should be offended or if there was just some signal that guests gave each other to indicate they were open for business. But she was glad not to have to navigate that minefield in the moment.
It allowed her to focus on the people around her. Because she couldn’t lock in on faces, she tried to commit other identifying features to memory. Hair color and length, general height and weight, clothing choices.
To her relief, she found that most of the women were dressed like her, in tight-fitting revealing outfits. She stifled a chuckle as she noted that she would actually have stood out if she’d dressed more modestly.
Some of the men—mostly the older ones—wore suits, but the younger guys were more dressy casual, if with some flair. There were a lot of slacks and dress shirts. But many of the shirts were loosely buttoned or not buttoned at all. In fact, there was only one younger guy in top shape that had a sport coat on. Above his mask, he had short brown hair. Maybe this was his first time too and he didn’t get the fashion memo.
Eventually, she found her way to the room with the beds. She did her best not to gasp. All five of them were already in use. A few folks were easing into the festivities, but on at least two beds, the participants had already left the dress code in the dust. They expressed their enthusiasm for each other in full all-natural display for everyone to see. Jessie turned away, blushing under her mask.
As she directed her attention to the room’s exit, she caught sight of the same guy she’d noticed earlier—the younger one in the sport coat. He was standing in the corner of the room, watching the activity intently, but hadn’t made any move to join in. In fact, he seemed quite stiff, as if he wasn’t completely comfortable in the environment. A silent ping went off in Jessie’s head.
He must have sensed her eyes on him, even behind the mask, because his gaze turned away from the action on the beds and toward her. He made no move to approach her but stared for several seconds before returning his attention to the main activity in the room.
Jessie, hoping she looked bored and not anxious, strolled out. She scanned the main room, hoping to catch sight of Susannah. It wasn’t hard to find her. With her bold red dress, she stood out, even in this crowd. She was sitting on a stool at the bar, stirring but not sipping the drink in front of her, talking to a man that Jessie guessed was in his early forties.
She gave a tiny wave to get the detective’s attention, but with all the visual distractions, it was a waste of time. So she walked over, trying not to act like a person who thought they might have found a credible suspect.
There was nothing overt that suggested the sport coat guy was worth investigating. But something about his awkward bearing was setting off alarm bells, and she wanted to see if Susannah would have the same reaction. When she got to the bar, she adopted her best “come hither” voice.
“Hey baby, there’s a new friend I want to introduce you to,” she said to Susannah before turning to her companion. “Do you mind if I steal my girlfriend away for a minute.”
“Of course not,” he said, clearly disappointed, “but I hope this is ‘see you soon’ and not ‘goodbye.’”
“See you soon,” Susannah purred, giving his forearm a stroke with her finger before getting off the stool and walking with Jessie. “This better be good because I was making progress with that guy.”
“You think he might be a suspect?” Jessie asked, surprised.
“Probably not,” she said. “he’s too eager and forthcoming. But I was warming him up. I think I was on the verge of getting some good dirt on this whole secret sex club.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt that, but I found a guy who is definitely not eager and forthcoming, which is why I want you to give him a look. I need a vibe check on him.”
“Okay,” Susannah said. “Where is he?”
“He’s in what I’m affectionately calling the ‘sex room.’”
“I thought they were all sex rooms,” Susannah challenged.
“This one leaves the others in the dust,” Jessie assured her.
As they approached the room, Jessie caught movement out of the corner of her eye and something registered. She looked in that direction and saw that sport coat guy had left the sex room and was now walking briskly in the direction of the utility room door. And he was staring at her.
“I think I blew my cover,” Jessie said, continuing toward the sex room but slowing down.
“What do you mean?” Susannah asked.
“Don’t look now, but my suspect has left the sex room and is currently headed for the exit. I might have spooked him.”
“How?” Susannah demanded, incredulous.
Jessie looked over at the detective, both embarrassed and defensive.
“I think by looking at him,” Jessie said in frustration, doing her best not to stare after the man as he moved. “I don’t know what the rules are here, and I guess I broke one. Either way, we can’t let him just leave.”
“Okay, then it looks like we’re following him,” Susannah said, glancing in the direction of the entrance. “I think you might be right about this guy.”
“Why do you say that?” Jessie asked, still trying to casually look anywhere but at the man.
“Because he just broke into a trot. I think he’s making a break for it.”