A man dressed in black shifted his weight in the far booth with the girls. Feather hung on him like a white dishcloth and her breasts touched his shirt. She patted his arm when he laughed. The man chewed on a swizzle stick and a baseball hat hung low over his forehead. Cindy noted the corner of his eye when he smiled at Feather. “They seem full of energy,” Cindy said.

Bill looked behind him. “The night always brings out the happy.” He turned around and eyed Cindy.

“Who’s the guy?” she asked. Cindy thought the stranger seemed out of place. “Money can make you happy. Dreams can make you happy,” Bill said. “And we have enough of both to make you almost giddy.” He patted Cindy’s hand. Bill ignored her question.

“You could use some happy, right?” Bill aimed to sign up the girl before the party started again. He smiled a wide grin. Cindy looked behind him to the far corner of the bar. Wallace followed her gaze.

“Likely a guy who figures he might go home with Feather,” Wallace said. Bill twisted his head. “Why don’t you all go home now,” he shouted.

The laughter stopped and Feather fidgeted. The stranger leaned forward and Feather let go his arm.
“Go on. Go home,” Bill said.

The dancers slid across the booth and rolled out onto the floor. Feather leaned down to the seated stranger, stuck out her tongue, and touched his lips. She twirled around pulling her G-string into her crack. She and the other girl marched off to the backstage.

Only Cindy saw the dancers leave. Wallace looked down at his hands and Bill continued to grin. Cindy watched the stranger slide further back into the dark. He spit out the straw. She followed the eye until it blinked into the dark.

Bill waited for Cindy to answer and Wallace looked tired. Cindy smiled and reached for Bill’s leather book. “Can you give me Mr. Loudin’s number now?” She expected Bill would open the book and flip to the number. Instead, he dropped his hand down fast covering the book.

“I think you already know how to reach Todd,” Dupree said. He sat taller in his seat. Wallace leaned away from him. “I think he sent you down here to test me.”

She felt the blood leave her face and her bottom lip trembled. “Honestly, I never met Mr. Loudin,” Cindy stuttered. “I just want to learn more about my dad.”

Bill leaned in to the girl. “If Todd thinks I will fall for this trick,” he paused. “He’s got another thing coming.”

The smile on his face faded into a snarl. Cindy flinched back into her seat. Bill’s teeth moved toward her and she froze. The menacing grin grew closer, but she did not feel fear from them. Behind the teeth, the stranger moved closer holding a big, black gun.

A red flash spilled aquarium water over Bill’s head. The black gun flashed two more times. A second bullet smashed the glass and the entire aquarium spilled out over Bill and Wallace.

The detective pulled up a 38-special from his holster. Bill jumped away from the booth and slipped in the water as a light exploded and fell next to him. Sparks jumped off the floor and Bill convulsed.

Wallace pumped two shots behind him and the stranger jumped over the bar. Charlie stood motionless with a glass in one hand and a dirty rag in the other. A flash of white shattered the mirror behind him. Charlie jumped over the bar and pulled his leg onto the stage. Cindy could hear him crying in pain.

“Get up off the floor and stand on the seat,” Wallace shouted. “Those sparks will kill you.” Cindy scrambled up onto the seat. She pushed her dress down and pulled her legs in.

“Grab the cash and let’s get out of here,” the stranger shouted. Feather looked for the money. The stranger stood at the front of the bar with Feather and the other dancer behind him. Feather reached over the bar for the money bag. The other dancer reached into the till and took out the bills.

Wallace pointed his gun at the stranger. The man pointed his gun back. “You don’t want a fight,” the stranger said.

The stranger ran down the stage with the dancers following him. He turned toward Wallace as he reached Bill’s body on the floor. Sparks continued to leap out of the water.

Wallace hunched down between his seat and the roof of the booth. His arm reached out far away from his body as the small space doubled him over. He lacked the advantage to hit the man.

“I swear I will shoot you,” Wallace said. The stranger pointed the gun at Cindy. She stood bent in the seat, cringed, and waited for the gun to fire. Wallace looked at Cindy and back at the stranger. The stranger continued to look at Cindy.

Wallace looked back at the girl. He recognized fear. “Like my daughter,” he whispered.

Wallace let go of his aim, let the gun spin to the table, and dropped it. The gun rested next to the leather book.
The stranger and the two dancers sprinted out the door onto Fremont Street.

Charlie let out a scream. Cindy grabbed for the book but missed it. Wallace jumped onto the stage and ran to the back of the bar with the book and the gun in his hand. She aimed her right leg at the floor as a spark jumped up. She slammed back into the booth.

She looked around the club. Wallace reached for the bartender. Cindy rolled over the table to the other seat and pulled herself up. She crawled the line of booths until she reached Wallace and Charlie.

“He needs an ambulance,” Wallace said. Charlie lay wedged between the seat and the stripper pole. Blood pooled around a hole in his left leg. Wallace reached over the bar and returned with a towel. He placed it on the bloody mess and Charlie winced.

Cindy counted the number of bubbles rising from the bottom of the aquarium behind Bill’s head. A black and white fish floated through the bubbles followed by a yellow and blue. The black and white was missing an eye. Otherwise, each fish looked happy to be swimming in a strip club.

“You should add a clown fish.” Bill looked over at her. “Like Finding Nemo.”

“You are an odd,” Bill paused. “No, make that a pretty, odd girl.”

Bill filed away the question about Todd L. for the moment. It could wait. What he needed right now was a fresh dancer. He leaned around the aquarium and looked down the length of the runway. He shouted at the girls finishing breakfast.

“Feather. Get up here and dance.” Bill pointed to the stage. “Charlie, drop the lights and turn on some music.”
Feather looked down the stage. A second girl pointed with both hands toward where Bill was sitting with Cindy. Feather huffed and slid across the padded seat.

“Move it!” shouted Bill. “Charlie. Lights and Music.” Bill pointed at the controls.

Charlie put down a glass as Feather swung up on stage and stepped over to the DJ booth. Charlie lowered the lights, powered up the strobes, and started the music.

A slow, grinding, boom blasted into the room. The big man in the far corner put down his fork and wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. Feather danced down the length of the stage toward the booth where Bill and Cindy were sitting.

“It’s easy,” Bill said. He swayed back and forth in the booth as Feather danced. “You just bounce to the music.”
Feather reached a stripper pole and pulled herself around, dipping her head to the runway, and sliding the length of the pole. At the bottom, Feather twisted around and started toward Cindy. As she got closer, Bill pulled a dollar bill out of his vest pocket. Feather rocked her bottom toward Bill who slipped the dollar into her G-string.

Bill turned to Cindy. “See, easy money.”

“It may be easy,” Cindy said. “But I won’t be here too long.”

“They all say that kid.” Bill laughed. “And yet, here we are.”

Wallace Jackson eyed Feather as she danced near Bill and the girl. Sizing Cindy up, she reminded him of his daughter: too naïve to know what is good for her, and yet convinced she can do anything.

Once a casino detective, Wallace now worked late on his own and usually stopped in for breakfast. It was the one place no one would think to grab a plate of eggs. The Glitter Gulch offered a working man solitude and a place to think. Bill noticed Wallace sitting at the back of the room. “You planning to hide back there?” he asked, motioning for the big man to join him.

Wallace stood up and adjusted his shoulder holster. From his jacket, he pulled out a roll of money and peeled out a twenty. “Thanks Charlie. Not too runny and the bacon perfectly crisp.” He handed over the money.
Charlie nodded and went back to washing the dishes. He understood he could keep the change.

“Wallace here is a decorated Texas Ranger,” said Bill coyly. He tipped an imaginary hat at the big man. “The first black Ranger in Texas, in fact,” he boasted. “I was never a Ranger, miss,” said Stony. “Bill gets things wrong sometimes.” He leaned closer to Cindy’s face as if he planned to whisper in her ear.

“What he meant to say, I suppose, was I proudly served as the first black deputy sheriff in Palmer County, Texas.” He emphasized Palmer County in a Texas drawl.

Wallace stretched out a big hand and backed away from the girl. Cindy took a hold of his big hand. It was soft as a deerskin glove. He shook her small hand and adjusted his cowboy hat. His head nearly touched the top of the enclosed booth.

“What brings you to this sideshow, miss?” he asked, looking around the room. Feather was slowly slinking back down the runway. “I have big plans for my new girlfriend,” said Bill. He slid over to give Wallace a seat. Cindy moved away. “I’m not his girlfriend.”

“If you’re not his girlfriend, what brings you here?” Wallace half expected to know the answer before she spoke.

“Just passing through on my way home. I thought I’d see a few sights.”

Wallace figured she would say she was broke, needed a job, and could make good money here. He took another look at Cindy. On second thought, she looked smarter than that and seemed to be hiding another reason. He smiled. She didn’t look like the wasted dancer type.

“Says she’s looking for Todd Loudin,” said Bill. Cindy coughed juice back into the glass. The cocky jerk had just given her Todd Loudin’s name. She pretended the juice made her choke. Bill tapped on his leather book and smiled at Cindy.

“Does she now?” said Wallace. “Why would she be looking for trouble?”

Bill and Wallace waited for an answer. Bill wondered what she knew about Todd. “I’m not looking for any trouble,” Cindy said shyly. “I thought Mr. Loudin might have known my dad when he was alive.”

Bill DuPree kept an eye open on Fremont Street for fresh beauty to keep the Glitter Gulch filled with long legs and shapely thighs. If they had a nice set of breasts, well, that was cream on the stick.

As the manager, he had seen them arrive and leave. A girl would need a firm foundation to attract the John’s, Dick’s, and George Washington’s stuck in the G-strings of their eye candy. Too bad each piece of candy got sucked dry and spit back out. The girls came, and the girls left. Beauty never lasted too long in the Gulch.

Bill watched as Cindy hesitantly walked across the street toward him. “You have a nice sashay, girl.” Cindy smiled and took her time walking toward him.

“You must be parched,” Bill said. He gazed at her open dress. Taking stock, he ran his blue eyes until he stared in her green eyes. “Let ol’ Bill buy you a drink.”

Cindy smiled and shook her head no. She looked at his shoes; a nice pair of burgundy alligators. Bill touched her arm and gave it a squeeze. “Tell me your name.”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an address book. He opened the worn book and retrieved a pen from behind the pages. “You look like a Tammy.” Cindy reviewed the pages. What if this book could lead her to Todd L.? She glanced back at Vegas Vic. He just smiled.

Cindy reached for the book, but Bill drew it back close to his chest. “Do you put everyone’s name in there?” she asked. “Only the important people I meet.” He reopened the book and drew the pen close to the page.

“So what is it, Tammy?” he paused, “or maybe Julie Lynn?” Cindy giggled and touched the leather. “I don’t know if I want to be in your little book.”

“Now, girl, at some point everybody pretty, rich, or famous ends up in here.” Bill drew closer to her. “And girl, you fit pretty to a tee.” He took Cindy’s hand and drew her closer to the club.”Let’s go inside and we’ll talk about making you one of my friends.”

The Glitch Gulch looked like a downtown diner inside with small booths stacked tightly together for intimate conversation around a stage. All were empty expect at the back. A few girls sat gossiping over breakfast near the DJ cage. They stopped laughing as Bill and Cindy entered. Across from them, a man sat eating a plate of eggs. He stared downward and purposely brought up his fork. He did not acknowledge the visitors.

“We can sit here,” said Bill pointing to the nearest booth. “Bring us some mimosas, Charlie.” The bartender set down the glass he was polishing with a dirty towel.

“I don’t drink.” Bill interrupted her, “You don’t drink or you don’t drink too much?” He let out a boisterous laugh at the joke.

Cindy looked around the room. The stage resembled a movie set with fluorescent paint outlining fake Roman columns and grand accents. Neon wrapped around it. Shining at night, the effect likely would seem regal and stimulating. Without the shroud of night, the stage resembled a carnival stage.

Charlie rounded the bar carrying a carafe of orange juice and a bottle of sparkling wine. He offered Cindy a glass. “Just some orange juice, please.”

“How will I get your drunk on just OJ?” Bill said in jest. Cindy leaned away from his face. She realized he wasn’t joking. Despite his uncouth exterior, Cindy played along to get to his book.

“Charlie, give her just a splash of bubbly.” Cindy covered her left hand over her orange juice and pushed the tip of the wine bottle away. Charlie set the champagne next to the orange juice. Cindy leaned closer to Bill and set down her glass. She reached over to touch the top of Bill’s rough hand.

“Tell me more about the famous people in that little book of yours,” she whispered. Bill puffed up. He took pride in his list of contacts.

“Just the movers and shakers of Vegas, kitten,” he boasted. “And the beautiful people.” He took ahold of Cindy’s hand and caressed her knuckles. He moved over her wrist. “So beautiful, why don’t you tell me your name.”

Cindy allowed Bill to caress her hand. She leaned closer. “Is there a Todd L. in your book,” she whispered.
Bill looked at her and smiled.

“What would you do to find out?”

Cindy dropped his hand and pushed away. Bill’s smile turned flat, and he twisted his head to the side eyeing the fresh girl. Cindy was working him.

“He was a friend of my dad,” she quickly said. She turned to look around the bar. She turned back to Bill. “It’s not important,” she smiled and touched the orange juice to her lips. She took a slow gulp and hoped Mr. Distasteful didn’t see her hand shaking.

Bill stared past Cindy pondering why this girl would be interested in Todd Loudin. “Is the old man testing me?” he thought. “Does Loudin know about the skim?”

Cindy stood below the unlit neon of Fremont Street and thought about where to go next. Her list, while punctuated with a final stop, still required a place to start.

“I’m looking for an evil man,” Cindy said aloud to no one in particular. She stared up at Sally, kicking up a leg in glowing orange and purple.

The tall cowgirl flashed a smile and rocked her outstretched leg. A glint of light sparked on her side pointing to the east. Cindy felt a warm glow. She followed the light until it revealed the full length of Fremont Street. Toward the end of her view, a janitor piled up plastic cups and paper. A few of the homeless pulled their shopping carts and panhandlers wandered across from one side of an alley to the other. Otherwise, no one stood on the street, and it was empty except for Cindy, Sally and Vegas Vic.

Cindy peered further down to the end of East Fremont.

“You think I will find him down there?” asked Cindy.

Sally only smiled.

The neon lining Sally’s skirt lit and erupted in a spark. A cascade of light rose up her dress and touched the video canopy overhead forming an arrow. The flashing arrow pointed to the southeast.

“I guess that’s a sign,” Cindy said surprised. She spied to see if anyone had noticed. No one was around.

“Follow the light,” she said in a deep-throated baritone.

“So your handsome boyfriend has the answers,” Cindy said. Sally refused to say, but the arrow began to move across the canopy confirming Cindy’s hunch.

The girl followed the arrow as it moved until it blinked out and immediately jumped on the shoulder of Vegas Vic. A single neon bulb fizzled on the tall man’s shoulder.

Cindy eyed Vegas Vic. The tall cowboy attempted to wave. His hat touched the top of the canopy. He appeared too uncomfortable and slouched against the metal. His smile betrayed his true feelings however, because to Cindy, the cowboy was glad to be standing and waving to the visitors of Fremont Street. Cindy moved closer and stood below Vic.

“I’m looking for the cheating, hateful, worthless, low life who killed my daddy,” Cindy said below the tall cowboy’s feet. She laughed at the thought she was living the lyrics of a Country song. Soon the smile drew back, and a tear formed in her left eye. “I don’t suppose you have seen him?”

Vic just smiled. Sunlight reached the top of his hand and a short puff of wind moved his hand back and forth. Not sensing any direction from Vic, Cindy watched the street. Nothing moved.

Cindy glanced in the window of a Hawaiian trinket shop. She adjusted her waist and smoothed down the shimmering sides of her pink A-Line dress. Noticing a small flaw, she picked off lint from her left sleeve. In her reflection, beads of sweat were spotting her forehead. She reopened the purse, pushed aside her list, fingered the pearl handle of the revolver, and retrieved a small, white, lace handkerchief. She dabbed the water drops from her forehead, then flicked a hand up to her bangs and gave them a lift. She took a long look. It would have to do.

An advertisement for a condo time share proclaimed, “The Love You Make is The Love You Take.” The couple featured in the poster seemed happy enough, if not glossy and fake. Looking past the poster to her reflection, Cindy took notice of a man standing in the doorway below Sassy Sally smoking a cigarette. Sally rocked her leg. The man stared through Cindy and blew out a stream of smoke. Cindy ignored him as she took in the empty street

“Hey girl,” the man shouted. Cindy ignored him more. The man shouted again, “Over here.” This time Cindy chose to listen and turned her head toward his voice. She cocked her head to the side.

“Yeah you,” he shouted. He motioned for Cindy to cross the street. Cindy half smiled and waved her hand sideways.

“Now, don’t say no. I haven’t met you yet,” he said.

Cindy glanced up at the tall cowboy. Vic wasn’t saying much. His big hand pointed at his ear and his neon lights were off. The neon on his handkerchief flickered and his smile hinted it wouldn’t hurt to listen to the scrubby man across the street.

“You think he’s got the answer?,” Cindy asked Vic.

She took another glance at the face under the canopy. The man was calloused with a certain cockiness; he knew she would eventually cross the street to talk to him.

“Typical guy.” Cindy rolled her eyes at the thought. Cindy sized up the front of the Glitter Gultch. She smirked; a topless bar. It was the place her father would have hung out in. It was definitely the place where Todd L. might be found.

A quick breeze sent a chill across the perspiration on her forehead. The lights on the spur attached to Vic’s boot flashed and a cool mist dropped from below his boot. Along with the mist, a pink glow illuminated Cindy from below his boot.

“Pixie dust?” she asked the neon cowboy. Cindy thought he winked. “Well, Mr. Cowboy, I’ll take your word for it. And I appreciate your protection.” The cowboy just smiled.

Cindy returned her gaze on the man standing in front of the Glitter Gulch. He looks like a thug, she decided. The lights above Cindy flashed across the canopy pointing to the strip club. Cindy watched as the man followed the lights with his eyes. “See, there’s an invitation,” shouted the man.

Despite her misgiving, she played it sweet. Maybe this guy can help her find the mysterious Todd L.

Cindy pulled her purse closer to her side, placed her hand on her hip, and started inching toward the man. He adjusted his weight, cocksure, and dropped his cigarette to the ground. He crushed the butt and eyed the girl walking toward him.

“Come to papa,” he thought. “This is too easy.”