The 24th Letter

FORTY-FIVE

Driving back down Collins Avenue, O’Brien called Lauren Miles’ cell. It took her half dozen rings to answer. There was background noise that O’Brien could tell was coming from a bar or restaurant. He said, “Thanks again for your time this afternoon.”

“No problem. Are you calling to meet me for a drink? That would be nice…maybe for old times sake. I’m at Friday’s with a few girlfriends.”

“Wish I could. I’ve got another stop to make. I’d be really late.”

“No problem, tomorrow’s Saturday-a day for sleeping…sleeping in. When’s the last time you had a sleep over, Sean?”

O’Brien could hear slur in her voice, the sexual attraction in her delivery. “Does this mean the lab can’t examine the paper I left you?”

She was quiet a moment and said, “You dropped it off at the end of the day. Everyone in the lab had left. I’m getting a tech in tomorrow. He owes me a favor.”

“Every hour cuts into what’s left Charlie William’s time.”

“What if we can’t pick up enough from the paper to make an ID?”

“Let’s see what the paper reveals.”

She sighed, hiccupped. “Ok. Are you doing anything in the meantime?”

“I have to make a few stops. One is to question Jonathan Russo.”

“You need backup?” She made another slight hiccup.

“I’m fine, thanks. Please let me know if you can get someone in the lab tomorrow, bye.” O’Brien disconnected and called information. “Connect me to Joe’s Stone Crab Restaurant.”

Three rings later a male voice said, “Joe’s Stone Crab.”

“You offer take-out?”

“Yes sir. What’ll it be?”

“Got any live crabs?”

“They’re all live ‘till they hit the pot.”

“Good. I want to order the largest one you have. But don’t cook it.”

“No problem. But most people want us to cook it for ‘em.”

“Not tonight.”

The man paused. “Okay, you’re in luck. Got a bunch off the boat earlier today, and I saw one of ‘em as big around as a dinner plate.”

“Good. Keep that one for me.”

“What’s the name?”

“Ralph Jones.”

O’Brien drove another few blocks and pulled into a Walgreen’s store. He bought the largest woman’s purse he could find and then drove toward Club Paradise.

The strip club catered to high rollers, sports figures, and celebrities passing through South Beach. O’Brien took a seat at a table in the corner and watched a nude dancer on the stage. She was a statuesque brunette, exceptional body, and high cheekbones that looked sculpted.

A dozen women worked the floor. A waitress approached his table. “Hi, I’m Liz. What can I get for you?”

“Coffee, thanks. Would you ask the girl on stage to drop by after she finishes?”

“No problem, handsome.” The waitress smiled and moved on to another table.

O’Brien looked around the room. There were dozens of businessmen, ties down, alcohol causing them to lose their inhibitions and money. Two tables away from him a shapely blonde climbed on the lap of an NBA player O’Brien recognized from the Miami Heat. She gyrated, looking like a toy balancing on his leg, her feet not touching the floor.

“Hi, I hear you requested me.”

The woman who was nude on the stage a few minutes ago now stood next to O’Brien’s table in a cocktail dress. She had long raven hair, eyes like emeralds, and flawless skin. He smiled. “I did. Thanks for coming over.”

“Liz is right, you’re cute.

“Thanks.”

“I’m Barbie, what’s your name?”

“Ken.”

“Really? Is your name really Ken?”

“Is yours Barbie?”

“I like my name. Most people think it’s fake. Most people think my boobs are fake, too. But they’re real.”

“I saw that.”

“Want to see some more?”

“No, thanks.”

She looked disappointed. “I thought you wanted a dance.”

“What I wanted was to see you. Please, sit down.” She sat and O’Brien said, “Tell me about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your dreams. What you want to do with your life.”

“Are you a producer or something?”

“No, just curious.”

“I just started college…Miami-Dade Community College. I do this job to help pay the expenses. And I’d eventually like to teach third grade.”

“Why third grade?”

“My favorite teacher, Miss Stafford, taught third grade. But most importantly, I really love kids. I think I can make a positive difference in their lives. That might sound like hot air coming from someone like me, a nobody, a stripper, but it’s true.”

O’Brien smiled. “I believe you, and I believe you’ll get there, if you want to bad enough. Look, Barbie, have you ever been to Club Oz?”

“No, and I hear it’s thirty dollars just to get in the door.”

“How’d you like to go?”

“Are you like for real?”

“It’s a long story. You can help get me to the front of the line and in the door.”

“I don’t know. What if-”

“When do you get out of here?”

“My shift ends in an hour?”

“Can you go now? I’m not some nut. I need to see a man in Club Oz.”

“Who, the wizard?” She laughed at her joke. Perfect smile and teeth.

“I’ll pay you three hundred dollars just to go in the place. From there, stay if you want, or you can call a cab.”

“Well, as you saw, I do like to dance. What are you going to do?”

“Visit with and old acquaintance.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Trust me-the dress you’re wearing is fine.”

“Okay, I guess. But I still have an hour on my shift.”

“Tell them you’re sick.”

“I can tell them I started my period early. That way I can say I’ll take the dress and dry clean it. But I don’t want them to see me leaving with you. They’ll think I’m doing free-lance hooking. That’s where I draw the line.”

“I’ll meet you outside. I’m driving a Jeep.”

“I’ll be right out, but I’m gonna call my girlfriend, give her a description of you and tell her where I’m going. I’ll tell her if I don’t call by midnight to call the police.”

“Good idea,” O’Brien said with a smile.

Outside, O’Brien unlocked his Jeep and made sure his Glock was where he’d left it. He started the engine and pulled to the front entrance to Club Paradise. Barbie had brushed her long, dark hair, applied lip-gloss and a little make-up. O’Brien watched her walk like a runway model. She was a stunning woman, hourglass figure zipped into the red dress with a slit all the way up the right leg to her brown thigh. The low-cut dress accentuated her ample cleavage. Her breasts recoiled as she walked on her platform high heels. She walked right past him a good forty yards, turned a corner and disappeared.

“Smart kid,” mumbled O’Brien.

He drove in the direction he last saw her, slowly turning the corner, and then he saw her standing in the shadows of a thick palm tree. He stopped the Jeep. She looked around quickly and climbed in the front seat. “I’ve never ridden in a Jeep before. Can we put the top down? I like to go topless.”

O’Brien laughed, his own laughter sounding oddly foreign. He’d forgotten what he felt like. “Sure, we can put the top down.” He unzipped the top and rolled it back.

They drove down Ocean Drive, the wind whipping Barbie’s hair, her breasts threatening to bounce out of the dress.

“I like it!” she said. “Kinda crazy date, but I like it!”

“And the night’s just began,” O’Brien pulled away and headed towards Joe’s Stone Crab.