Page 5 of Shadow Angel
“The red hair suits you.” Wearing a Montana State football jersey and a ball cap, Styles flashed her a confident smile and bent closer. “How do you make your lips look all puffy?”
Beth stepped inside the elevator. “Makeup is all. This look I got from YouTube. There are step-by-step instructions on there and a ton of really creepy Halloween makeovers.”
“For guys too?” Styles followed her from the elevator and headed for his truck.
Beth waved keys at him. “Sure. Take my ride. Yours is like a neon sign.”
“Do you figure the Tarot Killer uses YouTube for his disguises?” He took the keys and slid behind the wheel. As they drove through town, he turned to her. “Some people say he can turn into a woman.”
Styles was smart but not quite in her league. She’d joined the undercover team to openly use disguises without drawing suspicion, but those she used as the Tarot Killer were far more sophisticated… In fact, as law enforcement had no idea of her gender, she had to admit her skills went beyond good. Smothering a smug smile, she turned to him. “I’ve seen male undercover operatives dress as women but they’re not very convincing. Everyone’s disguise works better used within their gender, so the Tarot Killer has to be a guy. Maybe he’s an actor or works in FX?”
“That’s something to consider.” Styles pulled up behind a line of vehicles on Quartz. “He passes as so many different people all the time or at least we think he does. No one has given us the same description twice.”
Looking away, Beth regretted mentioning FBI undercover agents. Allowing that seed to float around in his inquisitive mind could throw the cat among the pigeons. Distracting his thoughts was an option. Smiling as he came to her side, she slid her arm through his and giggled. “I’d like to see him pass as a stripper in a gentlemen’s club.”
“So would I.” Styles grinned. “Then we’d catch him for sure.”
SEVEN
The dim alleyway to the stage door of the gentlemen’s club gave Beth an insight into Cassie Burnham’s last moments. She cast her gaze from one end to the other, taking in the advantages through the eyes of a killer. A security guard or someone else working there could move around without attracting attention, but a security guard might be missed. Hiding in the alleyway didn’t make sense for a killer, because the chances of a worker coming out from one of the other buildings to dump garbage and seeing them would be too much of a risk. Waiting at the mouth of the alleyway would be the easiest way and Cassie would have been closer to his vehicle for transport. She glanced at Styles. “It didn’t happen here. There are too many variables.”
“This is the door.” Styles pressed the buzzer and slid into the shadows. “Call me when you plan to leave.”
The door swung open and a man looked her over and waved her inside. She stared at him. “Dressing room?”
“Nah.” A large imposing man stared down at her. “The boss didn’t tell me about anyone new starting tonight.”
Undeterred, Beth shrugged. “That’s because I haven’t decided if I want to work here yet. Before I start, I need to speak to the other girls and find out if this place is legit.”
“Just a minute.” The security guy spoke into his radio and waited for a reply. “Okay, you got five minutes. Down the passageway and you’ll run right into it.” The door shut behind him. “I’m Bruno. If you take the job, you report to me.”
Beth pushed past him. “Thanks. You passed the security test.” She hurried to the dressing room.
She wrinkled her nose as a miasma of smells wafted along the passageway toward her. Inside the brightly lit room, scantily clad women crowded around the dressing table mirrors, chatting like a gaggle of geese. She edged her way around the room and headed for a woman dressed in strips of sparkling blue latex. “Okay if I sit down?”
“Sure.” The woman slid her feet into stiletto heels. “I haven’t seen you before. You new here?”
“Yeah, I’m Clarissa. I’m planning on working here. How do you find the conditions?
“Not bad.” The woman stood and peered at her reflection in one of the mirrors. “Better than some.”
Nodding Beth stared up at her. “Good to know. The last place I worked some creep tried to follow me home. Is there anyone in the crowd I should be watching out for?”
“Just about all of them.” The woman turned her heavily made-up eyes toward her. “I’m Val. The miners are fools, all catcalls, but they fill every orifice with bills. There are a few creeps who just stare. They don’t smile or anything, just give you the deadeye. I don’t know why they bother coming if they resent what we do.”
A waft of cheap perfume washed over her, and Beth waved a hand in front of her face. She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve had those. The guy who followed me home was real creepy. He watched me every night.”
A woman wearing a platinum-blonde wig sat down on the arm of the sofa.
“Hi there. I’m Rosie.” She frowned. “Funny you should say that because Cassie, one of the dancers, was worried about the same thing and now she’s missing.”
Beth opened her eyes wide feigning shock. “Missing?”
“Yeah, missing, and I found her purse and bear spray out by the road.” Rosie touched Beth’s shoulder. “It has everyone on edge.”
Beth turned to look at her. “Did she point the perv out to you? Maybe you should tell the cops?”
“No, but I looked for him.” Rosie crossed her legs, bouncing one shoe on the tip of her toes. “Cassie said he was always at the bar or in the shadows and came out and glared at her the moment she took the stage. I never saw him, but I’ve had my fair share of glares as well. I figure some guys feel guilty about being here, like what we do is wrong or something. I often see them have an internal battle with themselves. They are different from the others. They never come up and give us a tip.”
