Free Never Trust a Skinny Cupcake Baker (Death by Cupcake Book 1) by D.E. Haggerty

This is the good silk and lace stuff. That can’t be cheap.
    “Richard Wagner reportedly liked to wear women’s underwear
made of silk and satin.” I can’t seem to help myself from blurting out random
facts when I’m nervous. 
    He ignores me and demands, “What’s going on?” in a voice
that makes it clear that although he may enjoy wearing woman’s clothing, he’s
definitely a man who won’t be putting up with silly females.
    “We’re at our wit’s end,” Anna says as she saunters up to
him. Never one to acknowledge another’s personal space, she’s nearly rubbing up
against him. With their difference in height, Anna’s chest is nearly aligned
with the neighbor’s manly parts. I start to worry about the effect, if any,
having Anna’s female attributes in such close quarters will have on the man’s
underwear. “We’re trying to notify all of Dolly’s friends about the funeral,
but those stupid police took her phone. We have no idea how to find her friends
now.”
    The man leans away from Anna and relaxes a tiny bit. “You’re
friends of Dolly? I haven’t seen you around here before.”
    “We know her from work,” I pipe up.
    He raises an eyebrow at me and then proceeds to very
obviously check out my assets. A smile lights up his face. “Yeah, I can see you
working at Club Bristol.” He looks down at Anna and smirks. “But this little
pink-haired one isn’t exactly the type.”
    I nearly swallow my tongue and manage to stop myself from
asking what Club Bristol is. He needs to think we work there as he obviously
doesn’t know about Dolly’s job as a pole dancing instructor. Anna is much
quicker on the uptake than me. “I work behind the scenes,” she says. “You know
costume design and that sort of thing.” Does she actually know what Club
Bristol is? Or is she guessing?
    The neighbor nods as if it makes sense. I can only hope it
does. “Sorry, I can’t help you. I don’t have a key to Dolly’s place.” He scoots
back into his apartment. “I need to get some sleep. I had a late shift last
night.” I wonder what kind of work he does. “Good luck.” And with that, he
shuts his door, and I hear the lock click as well.
    I turn to Anna and place a finger over my mouth. She looks
like she’s about to burst, but she’ll need to do that somewhere outside the
hearing range of the neighbor who obviously has exceptional auditory faculties
if he heard us fiddling with Dolly’s lock while he was sleeping. Anna nods, and
I grab her hand before racing down the stairs and out the building.
    It’s only when we reach our bikes locked up at the end of
the block that I dare to speak. “What in the world is Club Bristol?”
    Anna grabs her smart phone and starts ticking away. “I’m
guessing by the fact that Dolly was a pole dance instructor and from the name
that it’s a strip club.” It only takes a moment before she confirms her guess.
“Yep. Have a look.” It appears that Club Bristol is a gentleman’s club outside
the city. 
    “Now what?” I hand Anna’s phone back to her.
    She scrunches up her face at me. “What do you mean? Now
what? Now we go to Club Bristol and snoop around. A titty bar is a much better
place to find murder suspects than a gym.”
    “That’s prejudiced,” I say. Did I just say that? I shake my
head. When did my life get this weird?
    Anna grabs my arm. “What else are we going to do? Wait for
Laurel and Hardy to solve the murder?” She snorts. “Like that’s going to
happen.”
    I know she’s right, but I have no desire to go to a
gentleman’s club or whatever the proper name for a strip club is. With my
rounded stomach and flabby arms, I’ll stick out like a sore thumb. I imagine a
spotlight will zero in on my big butt the minute I walk in such a place.
    “We’re going to have to go tomorrow, though.” Anna has no
clue I’m having an existential crisis. She’s blabbing on as if there’s nothing
strange about women going to a strip club.