Free Innocent in Las Vegas by A. R. Winters, Amazon.com (firm)

She’s probably happier now.”
    I frowned. I liked the fact that she was talking to me, but I couldn’t bring myself to agree with her. Something about Sophia made me think she was innocent. Or perhaps it was just my naïve hopefulness.
    “What about Thelma Durant?”
    Vanessa twisted her lips. “She was reasonably friendly when I was married to Ethan, but after the divorce either Ethan poisoned her against me, or she never really liked me to begin with.” Her voice trailed off, slightly sad. “Anyway, she seems nice enough. But who knows.”
    I nodded and stood up. I couldn’t think of anything else to ask her, so I handed her my card. “Please call me if you think of anything else.”
    “Of course.”
    She walked me to the door and I noticed her watching me curiously as I got into my car. I waved and drove away. Despite her willingness to talk, I hadn’t learned much from Vanessa, but at least she had given me the idea to go check out the Peacock Bar.
    Nothing had turned up so far, and maybe the strip club was worth a shot.

Chapter Eleven
    I parked near the club and called Sophia. “I’m about to enter the Peacock Bar,” I said, “Do you know anyone I can talk to?”
    “I’ll call Dan and tell him to help you. He’s the DJ.”
    We hung up, and I walked slowly to the entrance. I hoped Dan would know something, because if he didn’t, I was at a dead end.
    The Peacock Bar was a little west of the Strip and had a large, street-facing façade. But the main entrance was in a side-alley: all the better for the patrons’ privacy. The darkness took a few seconds to get used to when I stepped inside, but the pulsing music and laid-back vibe made me feel welcome. There were a few lingerie-clad girls on stage, moving their bodies lazily and a few others were wandering around the men sitting alone at tables. This was a slow time for the club, but even at its busiest, it would never get as crazy as some of the really big Vegas clubs. The Peacock Bar prided itself on being more ‘classy,’ but that was really just a euphemism to say that they were more expensive and wanted richer patrons.
    I got a few curious glances from some of the girls as I headed over to the DJ booth. As I neared, the DJ looked up with a friendly smile. Dan was a big-boned guy with a crew-cut and he looked like a suburban dad who’d cheer for his kids at their soccer game.
    He took off his headphones and pressed a button to make the music keep going. “You must be Tiffany,” he said and I smiled.
    After polite introductions and small talk, I got down to brass tacks. “I heard Ethan Becker used to come here quite frequently.”
    Dan nodded. “The man would bring clients, business associates, investors – he thought the club brought him good luck.”
    “Any particular girl he liked to see?”
    Dan thought for a while and shook his head. “Hard for me to tell, I’m usually concentrating on the music.”
    I wondered how he could ever do that with all the eye candy wandering around half-naked.
    He caught the eye of a nearby girl and she wandered over with the grace of a dancer. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she really was a dancer – a lot of the Los Angeles starlets and dream-chasers became Vegas strippers when they needed extra cash.
    “Tiffany, this is Milli,” Dan said. I smiled at her.
    Milli was tall - even without her six-inch heels - with long, wavy brown hair and big doe eyes. She was curvaceous and poised, with a magnetic aura that made me think she’d do well on stage. I introduced myself and told her I was a private investigator looking into Ethan Becker’s death.
    “Do you think he might’ve been having an affair with anyone here?” I asked.
    Milli shook her head. “If he’d been seeing someone, he wouldn’t have come in so often. They’d just hang out somewhere else.”
    I nodded. “Did you know him?”
    “Yeah, I gave him a few private dances. The guy didn’t talk much, but he told me was married and had a