“Of losing her.” She looked over her shoulder at the closed door. “So he dropped everything and was determined to bring her back home to Vegas. Like I could fit another body in this apartment.” She rolled her eyes.
“Did he say why she wanted to move to Pahrump?” I said.
“I think it’s safer for her line of work up there.”
“A cook?”
She looked at me like I was an idiot. “Yes, a cook.”
I grabbed on to Miles’s arm. He was steady and I needed that right now. “Was she being harassed at Dalton’s?”
She snorted. “For all I know, Zeke was the one harassing her. She didn’t ask him to come with her for a reason. But he didn’t listen to me when I tried to tell him that.” She stared up at Miles. “He liked working at your club. But it wasn’t just the naked women. Zeke liked his coworkers in the kitchen too. He’d go out and party with them all the time. And he loves Las Vegas. I don’t see him moving to Pahrump permanently. He’s got too many friends here.” She sighed. “But maybe it would be better if he stayed there. When he was younger, he would hang out on the streets all night and I worried myself to death. It’s just us. Our parents are dead.”
“When was the last time you heard from him?” I asked.
“This afternoon. He asked for money to put a deposit down on an apartment, but I think he was spinning me a line of bullshit.” She shook her head. “I should get back in there beforemy kids tear the place apart. Thank you for the opportunity to interview at the club. I’m a hard worker.”
“I can see that,” Miles said.
“I could maybe take his job. I’ve been a waitress before. Although I’m not as young or as pretty as I used to be. Do you think that will be a problem?” She frowned.
“No,” Miles said. “But if you feel uncomfortable, we have openings in the kitchen too.”
“Thank you,” she said again and turned to go.
“Wait,” I said and thrust Lisa’s picture at her again. “Have you ever seen this woman? Has your brother ever talked about Lisa or Broadway?”
“I’m sorry.” The woman opened her door. “I haven’t. She’s not his type. You would be.”
Craning my neck, I tried to look inside the apartment. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to see. Maybe Lisa tied up in the corner. But it looked like a normal apartment with a couple of kids racing around and the television blaring. “Me?”
“Yeah, a little trashy, but sweet.”
I blinked down at my phone. Lisa didn’t look trashy at all. She looked like a ballerina. “Trashy?” I ran a hand over my hair self-consciously. Then shook myself out of it. “Her name is Lisa. If Zeke calls, could you ask him if he’s seen her?” I handed her one of my business cards. “And ask him to call me.”
She looked at Miles and nodded. “Okay.”
“We would really appreciate it,” he said.
She gave him a tentative smile and slipped back inside her apartment. We walked back down to the car.
“I think she meant trashy as a compliment,” Miles said.
“Does she look trashy?” I shoved the picture at Miles.
“No. She looks like she has a stick up her ass.”
“Would you have fucked her in your office?”
“I didn’t.”
“But if you and she had chemistry in the audition, like you and I did—”
“We didn’t. Hell, Jackie, I barely remember her. And what I do remember is she was a difficult employee, a snob, and everyone thought she was a bitch.”
“Everyone but that guy who kept coming back for her. Do you keep security tapes?” That should have been the first question out of my mouth when I met him, but he had set me so off kilter that I still wasn’t thinking straight.
“Only for the week and then we write over them.”
