Chapter 13

INT. - THE STARLET LOUNGE - MORNING

Gerri knew better than to trust the tears pouring down Roxy's face, but the hardened, experienced part of her recognized they were real. This time, and for now. No way would the artful and careful queen allow herself to look so terrible in public otherwise. With black runnels of mascara running down her face, a small pool of it collecting under one puffy eye, her lipstick mostly chewed off her bruised looking lips and the blotchiness of a real cry marring her neck and cheeks, Roxy's little show for Kinsey earlier had nothing on this all-out bawlfest mess.

That, along with the softly whispering voice in her head, told her the queen's distress was genuine. Considering she'd just killed someone, Gerri could hardly blame her.

"What were you doing here so early?" The club should have been long closed at 8am in the morning on a Friday.

"Special all night show," Salvador spoke up from across the room, voice cracking, face turned away from Roxy, from the scene. "We hold one every six months."

Explained all the warm bodies hovering around. Gerri stared at Roxy, giving her the chance to talk. Which she did.

They always did.

"I didn't mean to, I swear, it was an accident, I thought she was trying to kill me." Roxy repeated the same three sentences, in order, strung together like a litany. This was the third time she'd said the exact thing to Gerri since she'd walked into the dressing room backstage at the Starlet Lounge. Salvador was already there when Gerri arrived, but there was no sign of Curtis this time. Gerri noted details, like the absence of adornments on one of the stations, one she assumed previously belonged to Aisling, thanks to the black fabric draped over the mirror. The blood still staining Roxy's shaking hands.

"You have to believe me." Jackson snorted next to Gerri's ear, triggering her temper. She turned her head to glare at him, surprised to find him so close to her. He backed off a half step, though with an answering scowl of his own.

"Sure, you didn't mean it." He gestured to the CSI who was slipping a plastic bag with a bloody knife into her silver case, the murder weapon. And at the fallen body of one of the dancers, blood pool spread to a cooling lake around her. Gerri watched Roxy's eyes flicker to one side, had purposely forced the dancer to remain here, in the room, after dragging the shaking queen into the crime scene. She could tell Jackson didn't approve, but the forensics team was almost done and it wasn't like there was much of a question who killed the fallen queen.

Not when there were three witnesses, one of them Roxy herself.

"I was defending myself." Finally, the attempt to dodge the death. Gerri waited, silent, letting Jackson take the lead. She stared at Roxy, keeping her face blank, knowing how much it unnerved the dancer, if only because she'd been told so in the past by others. Gerri's stare was legendary and she used it to her advantage every chance she got.

If her steady, green gaze was all it took to elicit a confession, she'd take it.

"According to the two witnesses," Jackson said, his disgust barely disguised, "you attacked Crystal," he rolled his eyes, "when she fought with you over you taking her boa." Gerri hated him for his judgment of the quivering queen.

"That's not what happened." Roxy turned to Gerri, as she knew she would. "I swear. She scared me and I thought she was trying to kill me." Desperation shone in her violet eyes. "Those two bitches walked in after. They made up that lie because they hate me." More tears, these crocodile. Gerri smiled faintly, just to let Roxy see she knew it. The tears dried up.

"And, you just happened to carry a knife around with you, is that it?" Jackson gestured to the CSI. She glanced at Gerri before handing over the bagged evidence . At least he used a glove, the idiot. The last thing Gerri needed was to have this slam-dunk ruined by chain of evidence accusations.

"For protection." Roxy looked down at her hands, the cuffs holding her wrists immobile. "We all carry something." Her head snapped up. "Even Aisling. She had a Taser." Like that was some huge shocker. Gerri had already gone over the contents of the dead transsexual's purse.

"Funny she didn't use it on you when you stabbed her." Jackson jotted notes as Roxy's eyes widened, traveling from him before snapping back to Gerri.

"I didn't kill Aisling!" Enough desperation, enough honesty, the voice whispered. And yet, here she was, with another dead body and a knife. And a confession.

Sort of.

"Who are you afraid of, Roxy?" Gerri kept her voice low, intimate, as though they were the only two people in the room. Those violet eyes flashed around the space, taking in those who watched and listened before returning to meet Gerri's.

"Girl can't be too careful," she said.

Gerri sighed softly, knowing that was it. Roxy shut down visibly, her whole body locking Gerri out in the way she tightened her narrow shoulders, perfectly penciled eyebrows pulling together.

"Take him down to the precinct." Jackson gestured to one of the unis who came forward to escort Roxy out of the room. Roxy looked like she wanted to correct him for the pronoun, but sullenly let it go. Salvador went after her, head down, shoulders slumped, the look of a man defeated. Gerri ignored her partner and crossed to the body, careful to keep her distance from the blood pool as the sudden need for a giant, barbequed steak hit her in the chest.

Ray stood up while her assistant zipped the body bag, the two paramedics lifting the stretcher to its full height before wheeling the remains away.

"Anything?" Gerri didn't want to ask about this dancer's heart. Didn't want to know, quite frankly. But, from the calm look on Ray's face, she needn't have worried. The brunette's anxiety from earlier at the morgue seemed to be gone. Gerri felt her own tension ease somewhat as Ray spoke.

"Single thrust to the liver," Ray said. "She bled out in a matter of minutes."

Gerri frowned, looking down at the blood pool. "The knife? Does it match Aisling?"

Ray shook her head, leaning closer to Gerri as she spoke in a hushed tone. "No," she said, eyes locked on Jackson across the room who stared at them with frustration on his face. Any second now, he'd be poking his damned nose in. Okay, so he was her partner and this was his case, too. Like she gave a crap. "The knife was different. Longer, thinner blade, double edged." Ray's eyes met Gerri's. "In my professional opinion, the two crimes are unrelated, at least from a perspective of murder weapon match and attack pattern."

Gerri shrugged. "She didn't have time for multiple blows," she said, though her argument, she knew, was ridiculous. Even she didn't believe it. Besides, someone Roxy's size and physique would have to have been high or stronger than she looked to inflict that much damage. Stabbing someone repeatedly took stamina and considerable strength.

Not that she couldn't have. But.

Gerri hated "but".

"The dancer was... normal." Ray's whisper reached Gerri's ears just before Jackson finally got the balls to interrupt.

"If you're telling Detective Meyers that queer didn't kill the other queer," he said with heavy dislike in his voice, "you'd better have evidence to back that up."

Ray shrugged, gathering her examiner's case. She didn't comment to Jackson, focusing on Gerri as though he hadn't spoken. "I'll do a full exam and give you my report in the morning."

Gerri didn't comment as Ray left, mind turning. She already knew Roxy didn't kill Aisling. But she did wonder why Roxy was so afraid she killed another dancer just for startling her. Yes, she believed the queen's story.

She just needed to understand why.

Jackson was too close again, leaning in as the voice whispered to her. "Something you want to say, Meyers?"

She almost laughed in his face. He thought her silence was about him? Arrogant son of a bitch. "Finish questioning the owner and the two witnesses," she said, turning her back on him. She loved doing that, felt his eyes burning holes between her shoulder blades. Gerri suddenly hoped it wouldn't take him long to come at her. She'd truly enjoy hurting him.

Damn. Her therapist was going to kick her ass.

Gerri was almost to her car when her phone rang. She hesitated a moment before answering Kinsey's call, not because she didn't want to talk, but because she had a weird feeling about it. Shrugging off her reticence, Gerri hit talk.

It wasn't long before she was sighing heavily into the receiver.

"Look, I know, okay?" Kinsey sounded frustrated, anxious. "You're busy, I'm busy. Ray is busy. But Grandmother is insisting."

And, if there was one thing Gerri knew about Kinsey's grandmother, Margot, it was that the old bitch always got her way. Pissed Gerri off to no end. "Let her," she said.

"Gerri." Kinsey drew out her name with a plea in her voice. "It's just dinner."

Another sigh. She couldn't help it. "What time."

Gerri could almost feel the blonde's relief through the phone. "Seven," she said. "The Melton." Naturally. Margot wouldn't stay at the Brampton Inn or anything. Nothing but the very best for Kinsey's grandmother.

"Ray better be going, too," Gerri said, slamming her car door, scowling at the steering wheel.

"I just called her. She's in. I really appreciate this, Ger." Kinsey's gratitude just made Gerri angry. She'd been witness to Margot's manipulation of Kinsey years ago, when they went to college together. Almost as bad as Ray's mother, though less evil and biting and more controlling. Like it mattered. Gerri settled into her seat, turning her attitude around with one simple thought.

She wasn't a college kid anymore. And Margot DanAllart couldn't push her around. Gerri felt a grin growing on her face.

"See you tonight, Kins," she said, actually cheerful.

Her friend's pause spoke volumes. "Gerri," Kinsey said.

"This was your idea." Gerri hung up, laughed out loud in the quiet heat of her car. If she played the night right, this might actually be fun.

***