Free Post Pattern (Burnside Mystery 1) by David Chill

you think Curt had anything to do with
this?" I asked.
    She frowned and thought. "He seemed really nervous.
He told me and Tiffany to say nothing to the cops. From the way he was acting,
you'd have thought he had pushed that guy off. But I'm positive he
didn't."
    "How do you know?"
    "Well, I don't quite know for a fact, but right
before Tiffany's body tensed up, some guy reached over and grabbed my butt.
That goes on a lot at these kinds of parties. Curt came over and smacked his
hand away. Then it happened. Curt couldn't have done it."
    She sniffled and a few tears began to fall. I reached
over and stroked her hair and she began to cry all the harder. After a few
minutes, I got up and fetched some tissues. She blew her nose a few times and
gained some semblance of composure. I asked her where Tiffany lived and she
wrote down an address for me.
    "Can you help me?" she sobbed. "I really
hate this business but I don't know what else I can do to make money. I mean I
can't go home to Montana. I just can't. My stepfather's too weird. I came out
here to start a new life, start fresh. But I think this is worse than what I
left behind."
    "I'll help," I said, wondering if I'd somehow
regret it again. "But you really have to want to make things better. You
can't just say you do and then go back to your old habits when you have a
couple of rough days and need some easy cash."
    She nodded eagerly. "I really do."
    I turned to leave but something made me stop. "How
old are you?" I asked.
    "Nineteen," she sniffled. "Is that too
old to start over?"
    The question was asked with a face that was somber and
pensive and reached out for an answer. Her cheeks shined through the streaks of
tears and her blue eyes had grown wide. I smiled at her and said no, it wasn't.
    *
    It was a thirty-five minute drive to Tiffany's place in
West Hollywood. Unlike Danielle's security building, this one was an open,
U-shaped building with a small patio in the middle. It almost looked like a
motel. I knocked on the door of apartment G, and a slim woman with short, wispy
brown hair opened it. She wore white pants and a black t-shirt that advertised
the most recent Green Day tour. Tiffany had yet to arrive and the woman rapidly
gave the impression that a pile of dog droppings would be a more welcome sight
at her door. I asked if I could wait and after suggesting I do so on the
sidewalk, she slammed the door in my face.
    I vaguely thought of packing it in for the night but
decided to scan the news on my iPhone and give Tiffany an hour. After becoming
fully versed on a city councilman caught with his hand in the till, the
possibility of the Dodgers making the playoffs and the effects the broiling
heat would have on local energy supplies, I finally saw Tiffany arrive.
    Like most everyone else tonight, she was dressed to beat
the heat. Unlike everyone else, her outfit reeked of sex appeal. Black halter
top, bare midriff and neon green short shorts accented her long, teased blonde
hair. Her face had no special allure, but that body was chiseled in Playboy
heaven. She skipped up the steps carrying a bag of groceries, wiped some sweat
from her brow, and walked inside her apartment.
    I scooted out of my Pathfinder, strode quickly inside
the gate and rapped on her door. The roommate answered again. My lucky night.
    "I thought I told you to get lost," she said
with the trace of a whine. "Creep!"
    "I need to be told nicely. You hurt my
feelings."
    "Look ya sonuvabitch, I ain't playin' with
you."
    "Good," I said. "You're not who I want to
play with."
    "Tiff don't want to have nothing to do with no rent-a-cop!"
    "Let her tell me," I said and jammed my
foot inside just before she could close it. With a little push from my shoulder
I forced my way into their cramped, old apartment. Tiffany was unloading
groceries and gave a little yelp as I barreled my way past her sentry.
    "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she
screamed.
    "You and I have something to discuss," I