26. Lottie
LOTTIE
I make a beeline to Keelie and Lainey right here in Red Satin Gentlemen’s Club. Although tonight it might as well be called Red Satin Ladies Lounge for all the females congregating in the audience.
Lainey is wearing a shimmering emerald dress that drapes gracefully over her distended belly. And Keelie is wearing a vanilla-colored sweater and matching jeans, and both just so happen to match her hair. She’s so brave. With Lyla Nell around, I haven’t worn white in a year.
“You girls,” I say, pulling them both into a hug. “Keelie! I thought you had a parent-teacher meeting!”
“It was canceled at the last minute,” she says. “And I got the text from Aunt Carlotta as soon as I found out. I was already dressed, and in the car. Bear is watching the baby, so I figured why not?”
Lainey nods. “Besides, Carlotta has the persuasive powers of a used car salesman with a quota to meet. How could we resist?”
Keelie laughs. “Plus, how do you say no to a free nacho platter?”
“Amen to that.” I shake my head with a laugh. “And Lainey, you are far too big to be traveling to Leeds on your own! And who has the kids?”
“Forest is watching them,” she says, pulling me into the seat between them. “Mom drove both Sam and me here. By the way, I’m in love with both Willow and Piper. Is there such a thing as baby fever when you’re already nine months pregnant?” She pats her belly as if it were a drum.
“Yes,” I tell her. “But that might have more to do with the fact women wish they could have their bodies back to themselves at that point.”
We share a quick laugh because we can both commiserate.
Keelie points to her flat stomach. “I still fit in my jeans and I’m not sorry.”
“Show-off.” Lainey pulls forth a tray of nachos and hands it to her and the three of us make quick work of it.
A waitress shows up with a tray of glowing pink cocktails in margarita glasses and hoists them up. “Mocktails for everyone,” she calls out and we let out a collective whoop of excitement.
I take a look around and spot Noah having a beer while chatting with Ivy.
Everett is nodding at something my mother is telling him. And both Sam and Meg look like zombies seated side by side—those matching dark circles under their eyes aren’t exactly helping their plight.
Suze is standing and snapping her fingers while staring at the stage. Every now and again she opens her mouth and her teeth glint like a sunburst. I can never get used to that.
Suddenly, the lights go out, and when they come back on, the bevy of boob-bearing beauties has done a disappearing act.
The stage begins to pulsate in colors of pink and blue, the half a dozen acrylic poles light up a bright shade of red, and out from behind the curtain stride about a dozen shirtless men dressed in chaps, boots, and with red sequin cowboy hats sitting cockeyed on their heads.
The music amps up with a lot more thumping and bumping than before as they congregate in front of us with their hip-gyrating moves.
It takes less than ten seconds for those chaps to come off in one well-choreographed, yet violent maneuver, only to reveal those long-anticipated glittery banana hammocks underneath.
Anticipated by other people.
I quickly stand and make my way next to Noah and Everett, who seem to be frowning in unison.
I’m about to say something when Ivy elbows Noah.
“What do you think, Detective?” she asks. “Is this part of your routine after-hours investigation?”
Noah takes a swig of his beer and frowns twice as hard. “I’d say this is a little outside of my jurisdiction.”
“Well, it’s not out of mine,” Ivy says before belting out a woo-hoo and dancing her way to the edge of the stage.
The men strut forward, and each and every last banana hammock-wearing one of them curls their fingers our way while calling for us to join them.
“We need all of you up here right now,” the tallest of the bunch demands and the crowd goes wild.
“ Here we go, ladies ,” Carlotta calls out with her voice rising over the music. “ Yeehaw! You heard the boys and you’d better listen. Don’t make them call the sheriff, or you just might get yourself arrested.”
“Good grief,” I mutter. “There’s no way I’m getting up there.”
“Pish posh,” she says, coming my way. “You’re going first, Lot.” She practically shoves me up the side stairs until I’m standing on the stage with its neon flashing lights glowing beneath my feet. “People always want what you’ve got. You’re what they call a man-fluencer . And let’s face it. When you filled your belly with a bunch of Little Yippies, half the town got knocked up. Hey, wait a minute… You should consider donating a few bucks to me and make a big spectacle of it, too, would ya? I bet I could rake in fifty grand within half an hour.”
“Nobody looks up to me like that.”
“I didn’t say they looked up to you. I’m saying they’re too afraid you might kill ’em if you find out they’re not on your team.”
I take a moment to glare at her. “I’ve got someone I’d like to kill right about now.”
“Lighten up, Lot,” she says as a couple of cowboys head our way. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves some entertainment tonight!”
Soon enough, the entire lot of us is on stage, sans Everett and Noah. They happen to be sharing a look that borders on amusement and the need to commit a homicide.
Hips are swinging, clothes are falling off, and questionable body parts are waving in the wind—and that’s just the women.
Two of the cowboys land their glittery hats on my mother and Suze, and within seconds, both of those women are mounted on the backs of those men and bucking as if they’re about to win the Kentucky Derby.
“Sweet mother of—” I choke on a laugh as my mother cackles like I haven’t heard in years. Her hat is askew, and her cheeks are flushed with pure delight.
“ Ride ’em, cowgirls ,” Carlotta shouts, throwing an arm around Meg, who’s now got one hand on Piper’s head, shielding her from the chaos ensuing all around.
Even Sweetheart has attached herself to the back of one of these gyrating cowboys and is howling away with delight.
Suze raises her hat in the midst of the melee. “To impromptu bachelorette parties and questionable life choices!” Her gold teeth glitter as if to emphasize that last point.
“ Cheers ,” everyone shouts, and soon I’m spun in a circle by a man with abs that could probably deflect bullets.
Everyone seems to be having the time of their lives.
With the exception of Romeo and Juliette.
They’re too dead to party.
But there’s a killer out there who is still very much alive, and far too free for my liking.
There’s a party in a prison cell I’d like to make sure they attend. And I’d love nothing more than to send them there myself.