Girl Undercover 4 & 5: Ariel & Financial Devil (7 page)

My manager looked confused. “Who?”

I told him what Christie had said about Ariel’s stalker and how he had yelled at her at the club while she was training someone.

Rolf lit up in acknowledgment. “Ah, yes, I remember now. You must refer to Charles Hutchkins. I completely forgot about him. I suppose it’s possible. I believe he did stalk her for some time after he was thrown out.” He grabbed a pen and jotted down something on a notepad on his desk. “I’m gonna have to tell the cops about old Charles. I only gave them her current client list.”

“That’s good. I know she wasn’t all that popular among the other trainers, but I liked her. I got a chance to get to know her a little. I think she was just misunderstood. Will you guys find out where the funeral will be held? And when?”

“Yes, as soon as we find out we’ll send out an email. Look for it in the next few days.”

“I will. Well, I’m gonna let you keep working. Sorry for interrupting, but I was just so upset when I heard about Ariel.”

He gave me a warm smile. “No worries, Jamie. I was too. She will be missed.”

I gave him a nod and left his office, glad it had been so easy to find out the name of Ariel’s stalker. As I waited for the NYPD to investigate Janine, I would keep myself busy by investigating Charles Hutchkins.

Chapter 6

Charles Hutchkins was a forty-five-year-old bachelor with a strong predilection for strip clubs. That was the most salient piece of information George learned after he did the quick search on Ariel’s former client I’d asked him to do for me.

I had called George as soon as I left Rolf’s office, hoping to beat the NYPD’s detectives to the punch. After setting Ariel up with Ian, I felt personally responsible to catch her killer. If Janine Eastwood wasn’t behind her death, it sure looked like a jealous rage might have caused it—I could totally see an obsessed stalker like Hutchkins reasoning that, if he couldn’t have Ariel, no one else would either. Considering that my manager had forgotten to tell the detectives about Hutchkins, I should make it. George had been able to hack into Hutchkins’ credit card bills that had dozens of charges made to mainly two of Manhattan’s biggest tittie bars.

“Does it look like he favors one over the other?” I asked George. He had just called me to inform me about his findings.

“Let’s see,” George replied and I could hear him count quietly. “According to last month’s statement, it looks like FlashDancers has a slight edge over Sapphire. There are five more charges made to FlashDancers. They’re all around fifteen, twenty bucks, so I’m thinking they’re for drinks. A couple are forty and fifty. He might’ve run a tab those nights instead of paying drinks individually.”

“Any charges made the night of the murder?” I gave him the exact date.

“I’m checking… Yes, there are a couple. But those might have been made the night before. Sometimes it takes a while for a charge to go through.”

“Good point. How often are the charges at these strip clubs made?”

Again, George got quiet. Then, “About three or four times a week split between the two clubs.”

“Great, thanks. I think I’ll be visiting these clubs tonight and see if I can get an opportunity to speak to this man.”

After ending my call with George, I finished my floor shift and then headed to Ricky’s, a cosmetics and beauty supply store, to buy a new wig—one with long honey blond hair similar to Ariel’s hair—and fake eyelashes as well as some bright red lipstick. Then I bought a pair of black fishnet stockings that I would wear with my black leather stiletto boots and a short, skin-tight black dress. Since I was going to compete with almost naked women, I figured that the sluttier I could make myself look, the better the chance that Hutchkins would pay me attention. My only advantage was that I didn’t require for him to keep sticking dollar-bills into my panties to engage with him. A drink would do.

When I left my apartment that night, I wore a pair of oversized sunglasses. Even though I didn’t think that anyone would recognize me with all the makeup and the new wig, I wanted to keep as low a profile as possible. I hailed a cab and was on my way to FlashDancers.

I removed my sunglasses before I went up to the two gigantic, black bouncers guarding the entrance to the club. There was a short line of men outside and a couple of them whistled as I approached. One of the bouncers spotted me and waved me over before I could stop behind the last man in line. He and his buddy stepped aside, letting me enter the already open door without asking to see my ID. I took that as a good sign.

Soft music with a seductive beat reached my ears as soon as I was inside the dark club. The woman who sat in a ticket booth built into the wall just smiled at me and motioned for me to keep going as I made an attempt to pay the cover charge. I walked down a long set of stairs. The farther into the club I got, the louder the music got and soon I was in a big space with three long catwalks on which girls wearing only g-strings strutted their stuff. Men of varying ages sat or stood around these stages, gazing up at the girls that were lit in several directions by spotlights in different colors. There were also some women among the adoring audience members.

I had memorized the two images George had found for me of Hutchkins and was now scanning the semi-dark area for the man. Hopefully, he was sitting here somewhere, feeding dollar-bills to some gyrating girl. My plan was to pretend I was a bisexual woman who was as horny as Hutchkins seemed to be.

I had almost given up on spotting him somewhere and was heading toward the exit when I finally saw a man descending the stairs who looked just like the image in my head. I hid behind a column as I watched Hutchkins continue into the big club and take a seat at an open table near the first catwalk. A waitress was quickly by his side, taking an order.

I pondered the best approach—should I be bold and ask him if I could join him or simply take a seat at a neighboring table? There was an open one right next to him. Based on all the appreciative looks and whistles I’d gotten since I’d arrived, I opted to be bold. Adjusting my dress, I sauntered over to his small table.

Putting a hand on the chair at the other side of his table, I leaned toward him, making sure he got a good view of my cleavage that I had enhanced by wearing a push-up bra. Ariel had huge boobs, so I had figured it was wise to wear something that showed off my own assets, in addition to make them look extra big.

“Is this seat taken?” I asked, using my most seductive voice. He turned to face me, his eyes going from my boobs up to my face and then back to my boobs where they stayed for several seconds. Wearing a cheap-looking suit, he had wispy, dark hair and an unattractive face with a significant turkey neck.

“No, please have a seat,” he said, his buggy, pale eyes glued to my chest.

I pulled out the chair and took a seat. I smiled at Hutchkins, whose gaze had finally moved back to my face. He grinned back at me, revealing a jarring gold tooth.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked.

“Sure, a cosmo would be nice,” I replied.

He looked around and when he spotted a scantily dressed waitress, he waved her over. The willowy girl was soon at his side. He jabbed a thumb in my direction and said something into the girl’s ear. She nodded and disappeared.

I smiled at him. “The girls here are so hot. Can’t get enough of them.”

As expected, his eyes lit up with excitement. “You like girls?”

“As much as I like men…” I winked at him and he was practically drooling.

A brunette girl danced before us, shaking her shapely butt in our faces. To underscore just how much I liked girls, I stuck a ten-dollar bill into the stripper’s tiny silver panties as she squatted before us. She kept gyrating her hips for a while in appreciation and then moved on.

I turned to look at an open-mouthed Hutchkins, whose eyes were big like ping pong balls by now he was so excited. He licked his lips and grinned at me.

“You like to do them at the same time?” he asked.

“Yes. But tonight I’d like a man only. You know someone who’s available?”

He almost choked on his drink. Coughing, he wiped his mouth with a cocktail napkin, then cleared his throat. “Sure. I am. When do you wanna leave? Now?”

“Let’s enjoy a drink first and talk a little, watch the girls. That turns me on more...”

The waitress returned with my cosmo then. Hutchkins handed her a twenty and slapped her on the butt as she left, telling her to keep the change. Then his attention was back on me again. “What would you like to talk about?”

“How often do you come here?” I asked him.

“A few times a week. You?”

I licked my own lips and picked up my drink, holding his gaze all the while. “This is my first time. It’s something so incredibly erotic with beautiful dancing girls.”

“Yes, it is. Can’t get enough of them. What else turns you on?”

I giggled. “Oh, lots of things… I’ll show you later. What did you do last Thursday? Were you here?”

Having another sip of his drink, he looked like he was considering my question. “No, I was in Philly that night. My mother needed me to take her to the hospital that evening, so I spent the night at her place.”

“That’s so sweet of you. You’re a good son.”

“I try to be. I’m the only one she has.”

“Ah, an only child. I’m one too.”

“We have so much in common.” His gleaming eyes went to my chest as I had a sip of my starkly pink drink.

“Yes, it sure sounds like it. What was wrong with your mother?”

“She twisted her ankle badly and couldn’t walk. So I had to take her to the emergency room for X rays to see if she had broken something.”

“Oh, wow. That must have taken the entire night!”

“Yeah, we didn’t get in until one in the morning.”

“Was anything broken?”

“No, fortunately it was only a bad sprain. They put her in an ankle brace and gave her a pair of crutches. She’s not supposed to put any weight on it for a couple weeks.”

“That’s so good. I mean, that it wasn’t anything more serious. What hospital was it?”

“Pennsylvania Hospital. Why? You planning on going there?” He looked at me funnily. Something wild had ignited in his eyes and I didn’t like it. I had seen that look in criminally inclined people before and it was a bad sign. I needed to get out of there. I’d gotten what I’d come for. If his story panned out, he couldn’t be Ariel’s killer. Though given his touchiness, I didn’t think it would.

“Um, yeah,” I said. “I’m a med student, so I’m very interested in hospitals in general.” It was a lame explanation, but it was the best I could come up with.

“Uh-huh,” he said, staring at me now, the pleased grin long gone. It was obvious he thought I was bullshitting him. “Hey, how about you chug that drink and we get going?”

He kept staring at me, daring me to refuse his suggestion.

“Sure,” I said and smiled at him while grabbing the drink. But instead of bringing it to my lips, I tossed the almost full martini glass into his face. It was a surefire trick I’d tried before.

“Arghh!” he snarled as some of the pink liquid found his eyes, surely burning them like hell. Throwing the glass away, I shot to my feet and ran toward the exit. By the time Hutchkins was able to see again, I should be out of the club and in a cab, on my way home.

I found the stairs and started climbing them. But before I could get far, someone grabbed me by the arm.

“What’s the hurry, sugar pie?” a gravelly voice wanted to know. Breathing hard, I turned to see who had stopped me. A bearded man in a fedora was gazing at me under the brim of his hat.

“Let go of me,” I hissed, trying to shake myself loose from his strong grip. All that resulted in was his fingers closing tighter around my arm.
What the hell is he doing?
I threw a glance over my shoulder and saw that Hutchkins had recovered and was looking around the room, surely searching for me. The stairs were as well lit as the strippers’ stages, so it was only a matter of time before he spotted me. Swallowing the big clump that had suddenly materialized in my throat, I looked down at Fedora man’s hand.

“I think you should stay with me,” he said and began pulling me down the stairs. I was strong, but he was much bigger than me. Soon I was moving back down into the club.

My heart pumping like a jackhammer in my chest, I looked toward Hutchkins again.
Fuck.
He had spotted me and was coming toward me and my captor, who had managed to get me all the way back down by now. I was loathe to make a scene, but at this point I had no choice. With a well-aimed kick, the sharp point of my black boot slammed into Fedora man’s crotch.

Folding over and gasping, he let go of me at last. Throwing another look behind me, I saw that Hutchkins was only yards away from me, fury written all over his face. I swiveled around and dashed back up the stairs. I couldn’t afford another holdup or Hutchkins would get his hands on me. As mad as he looked, it wasn’t something I wanted to deal with. Especially since Fedora man would surely join him before I could get away. I could always pull the gun I had in my little purse, but if I did that, I might blow my cover. Those bouncers upstairs must have guns of their own and were surely trained to disarm people. I’d have no choice but to surrender.

“You fuckin’ bitch,” Hutchkins snarled behind me as I ran as fast as I could up the stairs, my lungs burning. On my way, I bumped into people walking downward.

“Hey, watch it,” one annoyed man yelled, but I was too frenzied to care. As I was near the top, a big cluster of men came toward me.
Oh, God, how would I get by them?

As I had feared, they didn’t part for me as we met but just looked at me like I was crazy, forcing me to stop. I swiveled my head around and saw Hutchkins only a few yards behind me. He would reach me in a matter of seconds.

Frantically, I looked at the two men right before me. “There’s a man with a machine gun down there. Turn around and get the hell out of here or you’ll die! Five people are already dead.”

“What?” the first man said.

I jabbed a finger toward the club below and yelled at the top of my lungs. “Get the hell out of here! A man with a machine gun is
killing
people down there.”