Free A Body to die for by Valerie Frankel Page B

am,” I announced with a big smile. I walked into the cell. It was nice and cool.
    Jack waited for the guard to leave before he said, “Wanda, thank God you’re here.”
    “I guess you’ll need your money back for bail, huh?” I asked.
    “It’s unlikely Ameleth is going to pay it after I beat up her club.”
    I shook my head. “What were you trying to do?”
    “Get inside.”
    “And using your key would have been too easy?”
    “I know this will sound nuts, but I forgot I had it.” He probably suppressed that information because he wanted to damage the club. His wife had an affair there, she blamed Jack for the murder. His life pretty much sucked and he needed to take out his aggression. “It makes some sense. Twisted, but legit.”
    “I wouldn’t have done anything if Ameleth slept at home,” he said.
    “She didn’t go home?”
    “When I got there, the place was empty. I was upset, so I ran back to the club. I assumed she was staying there. So I tried to bust my way in.”
    “You’d do better to think of ways to bust yourself out. Of here, I mean.”

Palm Jobs

    Jack put his finger to his lips. “You think I should?” Busting out of jail seemed like the kind of advice a client would want from a private dick like me. “Sure, why not? Pretend you’re dying of claustrophobia.”
    “I know you’re joking.” He paused. “Even if I broke out, where would I go? Back to that empty shell of an apartment to stare at Ameleth’s bodysuits in the closet?” Heartbreak and real estate. In New York, they go together like sham-a-lama-ding-dong.
    “Get a room somewhere,” I suggested. “In the meantime, let’s talk suspects.”
    “Let’s talk about the money first,” he said. “You’ve got it?”
    “Maybe.”
    “I’ll need it tomorrow.”
    I sat down next to him on the bench. “So I guess this isn’t the best time to tell you I’m a compulsive gambler,” I said.
    He seemed sufficiently terrified. I said, “Chill out, Jack. I’ve still got the money.” I patted his shoulder. “But it’s mine.”
    He pondered this for a while. I watched. He really was a fine-looking man, for a sentimental type. Tiny blond hairs dusted his collarbones like tiny feathers. From where I was sitting, I could make out the outline of his cock. He said, “Yeah.”
    “Yeah, what?” I asked.
    “Yeah, I thought you might say that.”
    I said, “Tell me about Ameleth. Any chance she’ll drop the charges?”
    “I don’t know. She hates me—that’s clear.” Even his frown was boyishly charming. I felt that wave of protectiveness again. I almost considered returning his money, but got over that fast.
    “How’d you sleep?” I asked.
    “Very well, thank you,” he answered like I really cared.
    “What can you tell me about Janey besides how good she is in bed?” I asked.
    Jack pondered this. “I don’t know her very well. She’s a good receptionist. She had a friendly relationship with Ameleth and Barney. I think Ameleth was angry at her for some reason.” I raised my eyebrows to ask why he thought that. “Because Ameleth said to me a couple of nights ago, ‘I’m pissed at Janey.’ ”
    “Does Ameleth know about your affair?”
    “No.”
    “Did Janey ever move in on Barney?”
    “I don’t know. I doubt it.”
    “What kind of security do you have at the club?” I asked. If I wanted to break in myself, I needed to know if it’d be a problem. Maybe there were video surveillance cameras I could check. That kind of thing.
    “We’d got our security guard, Ergort, an ex-cop.”
    “The guy who stands out front?” I asked. “He’s too young to be an ex-cop.” I’d guessed he was around thirty. It’s hard to tell with muscleheads.
    Jack said, “He was kicked off the force. Something about a drug deal or an innocent bystander getting shot, I can’t remember which.” I made a mental note to ask Falcone about Ergort. Jack looked out the cell bars, busily wringing his hands. “Wanda, you’ve