Chapter 2

The dancer flicked his head around as he turned, finally noticing Brian and Raymond standing there. He had a little white stick poking out his mouth, and Brian couldn’t see what it was at first because of the club’s lighting, until the guy grasped it with one hand and pulled out a shiny red lollipop.

Then he grinned at them and called down, “It’s ten bucks each to sit at the table, fellas.”

His voice was deep and sultry, and seeing him smile made Brian’s brain short circuit for a moment. Brian knew he should probably say something, but it really wasn’t every day he met someone this…interesting.

The dancer appeared to be waiting for them, and took a step closer. “You guys gonna pay, or what?”

The two customers already sitting by the stage looked up, seemingly annoyed at the interruption, with scrunched up bills clutched in their meaty hands.

When Brian still didn’t answer, Raymond took over and flashed his shield. “NYPD,” he said calmly, as the two customers scrambled out of their chairs and hurried away. “Detectives Belfont and Callahan. Are you Angel? We’d like to ask you some questions.”

The dancer, Angel, put a hand on his hip, and gestured with his lollipop to the retreating customers. “Hey, man, look what you did, scaring away the fish like that. Do you have any idea how slow Tuesdays are?”

Brian found his voice, at last, and quickly said, “Just a few questions, and we can leave you in peace.”

Angel rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he said dryly, and stuck the lollipop back in his mouth. “So, whaddaya want?” he asked around the candy, sounding very New Yorker all of a sudden.

Brian was smitten, he knew that much. And he couldn’t help smiling up at Angel as he towered above them on the stage.

Angel noticed Brian watching, and if by the way he turned his body to Brian and thrust his sculpted bare chest out was any indication, he seemed to not mind Brian looking.

Not that Brian meant to stare, but…

An elbow from Raymond brought him back to his right mind, and Brian hastily reached into his jacket pocket for the photo of their suspect.

“Do you know this man?” Brian asked, holding up the small candid photo for him to see.

Angel plucked the photo out his hand, bringing it close to his face to inspect it. “Ah,” he said, slapping the photo with his other hand before offering it back to Brian. “The Robert Redford guy.”

“What?” Brian and Raymond said in unison.

“That guy,” Angel said, taking the lollipop from his mouth and waving it around. “He’s like…Wait, hang on.” He made to move to the edge of the podium, and reached his other hand out to Brian. “A little help here?”

Brian clasped Angel’s outstretched hand, offering him support as he gracefully hopped down

Brian suspected he hadn’t really needed the help, but he didn’t mind holding Angel’s hand, nor did he mind the way Angel grinned at him now they were eye level.

“Thanks,” Angel said, pressing in close to Brian and looking him over. “Mmm. You’re a big boy, huh.”

Before Brian could get himself together and answer, Raymond cleared his throat.

“Um, right.” Brian felt his cheeks flush, and he quickly dropped Angel’s hand. “So, you know him?”

“He’s a regular,” Angel said with a shrug, holding his lollipop in the air in a casual manner now. “Why, what’s he done?”

“A lot of bad things,” Raymond said flatly.

“How bad?” Angel asked, giving them a damn good poker face. “Parking ticket bad, or badbad?”

“We can’t disclose details of the case,” Brian said, “but I can tell you we need to speak to this man as part of our murder investigation.”

Angel’s eyebrows flicked up. “Damn. He was a good tipper too.” He sighed deeply, and planted one hand on his hip, then pointed at them with his lollipop. “Okay, so, for the sake of good karma and stuff, you can ask me about him. But I swear to God, man, he didn’t make a lot of sense whenever he was here. A few too many shots of tequila, you know?”

“We’re specifically looking for where he might be now,” Raymond informed him.

“Did he mention anywhere he stayed other than midtown?” Brian asked. “Any locations?”

“Hmm.” Angel made a face, thinking.

Brian waited, as did Raymond.

Just when Brian thought that this trip had been a dead end, Angel looked like he remembered something.

“You know,” Angel said, “he did go on about a yacht he supposedly had. Or, a boat of some sort, down on the docks? I don’t know exactly, but I do remember what he said it was called, whether that’s true or not. These guys sure talk a lot of crap.”

“What’s it called?” Raymond asked, opening up his notepad.