Free Joe Dillard - 01 - An Innocent Client by Scott Pratt

things out.
    A little after nine, he stopped by his place to shower and change. He put on a pair of jeans, a collared black pullover, and a jacket. He stuck his .38
    in an ankle holster, and drove out to the Mouse’s Tail around ten fifteen. It was a tacky joint, built of concrete block and painted powder blue. The front entrance was covered by a bright blue awning trimmed in black. A big gray mouse, grinning from ear to ear and with a tail that curled up into what looked like an erect penis, had been air-brushed on the side of the building that faced the road.
    There were twenty or thirty cars in the parking lot out front. Landers had to pay a ten-dollar cover to get past the blonde in the foyer. She looked like a high-end hooker, in elaborate makeup and black spandex. Huge tits. The ATM the murder victim withdrew the money from was sitting right beside the counter in front.
    Blondie buzzed Landers through into the main part of the club. It was a large, open room, about a hundred feet long and forty feet wide. On each side of the main room were what appeared to be small anterooms, the entrances covered by black curtains.
    There were three stages, each about the size of a boxing ring, set in a triangle and complete with brass poles. Each stage was framed by mirrors and occupied by a naked, gyrating lady. Cigarette smoke hung in a cloud about ten feet off the floor, and a mirror ball was throwing light around the room. The music was loud. Landers had heard the bass buzzing off the walls from the parking lot. He didn’t recognize the song that was playing, but it was by one of those dumbass black rappers.
    Landers did a quick head count. There were six people, all men, at the bar to his right and another thirty or so sitting at counters and tables around the stages. Besides the dancers and two waitresses, who were wearing extremely attractive tight white nurse’s outfits, there wasn’t a woman in the place. Landers didn’t see Erlene Barlowe anywhere.
    He took a seat at a table towards the back. The redhead onstage was magnificent. She had a gorgeous face and she kept throwing her head around and making her hair fly. Her legs were long, her ass was tight, her tits were small and firm, and she could move . Landers was sitting there fantasizing about his balls slapping off of her ass when one of the nurses stopped by the table. Her little top was a zip-up that hadn’t been zipped up very far. Her tits were falling out all over the place.
    ”What can I get you, honey?” she said.
    ”Club soda. Twist of lime.” The nurse gave Landers a shitty look when he ordered the club soda. He would much rather have had a whiskey, but he never knew what might happen in a raid. He needed to stay sharp.
    Nurse Betty brought his club soda a couple of minutes later. Cost him five-fifty. She gave him an even shittier look when he didn’t give her a tip. Landers called Jimmy Brown at ten forty-five. The raid was supposed to start at eleven straight up. Landers could barely hear him over the fucking music. Brown said they were just pulling off the interstate. They’d be in position in five minutes.
    That’s when he saw Erlene Barlowe, still wearing the leather pants and cheetah top. She was standing by the bar. Nurse Betty was talking in her ear and pointing in Landers’s direction. The music had stopped and the disc jockey was telling the customers that touching the girls wasn’t allowed. Erlene spotted Landers and headed straight for him.
    ”Are you here to arrest me, handsome?” she said when she got to the table. ”Or are you just a bad boy looking for a good time?”
    ”You remember the guy I was asking you about?
    The dead guy who wasn’t here? He withdrew some money out of your ATM out there in the lobby last night.”
    ”Well, I swan, honey. I must have just missed him somehow.”
    ”My name isn’t honey. It’s Landers. Special Agent Landers. And you’re about to find out how much I hate it when sluts lie to me.”