"Beer in a bottle." I figured if Sugar attacked me, I could brain him with my beer bottle. "I didn't realize you were so famous," I said to Sally. "All these people know you."
"Yeah," Sally said, "probably half the people in this room have slipped a five under my garter belt. I'm like regional."
"Sugar's here somewhere," the bartender said, passing drinks to Sally. "He wanted me to give you this note."
The note was in the same tidy little invitation-sized envelope Sugar had given Grandma. Sally opened the envelope and read the note card.
" 'Traitor.' "
"That's it?" I asked.
"That's all it says. 'Traitor.' " He shook his head. "He's wigged, man. Beyond Looney Tunes. Looney Tunes is funny. This isn't funny."
I belted back some beer and told myself to stay calm. Okay, so Sugar was a little over the edge. It could be worse. Suppose the guy who was going around chopping off fingers was after me? That would be worrisome. He'd already killed someone. We didn't know for sure if Sugar was a killer. Arson didn't necessarily mean he was a killer type. I mean, arson was remote, right? So no point to getting all freaked out ahead of time.
Ranger moved next to me. "Yo," Ranger said.
"Yo yourself."
"Is the man here?"
"Apparently. We haven't spotted him yet."
"You armed?"
"Beer bottle."
He gave me a wide smile. "Good to know you're on top of things."
"No grass growing here," I said.
I introduced Ranger and Sally to each other.
"Shit," Sally said, gaping at Ranger. "Jesus shit."
"Tell me what I'm looking for," Ranger said.
We didn't exactly know.
"Blond Marilyn wig, red dress with short skirt," the bartender said.
Same outfit he had been wearing onstage at the club.
"Okay," Ranger said. "We're going to walk through the room and look for this guy. Pretend I'm not here."
"You going to be the wind again?" I asked.
Ranger grinned. "Wiseass."
Women spilled drinks and walked into walls at the sight of Ranger grinning. Good thing he didn't want to be the wind. The wind would have had a hard time with this group.
We cautiously elbowed our way to the back, where people were dancing. Women were dancing with women. Men were dancing with men. And a man and a woman in their seventies, who must have been from a different planet and had accidentally landed on Earth, were dancing together.
Two men stopped Sally to tell him Sugar was looking for him. "Thanks," Sally said, ashen faced.
Ten minutes later, we'd circled the room and had come up empty.
"I need another drink," Sally said. "I need drugs."
The mention of drugs made me think of Mrs. Nowicki. No one was watching her. I just hoped to God she was hanging around for her doctor's appointment. Priorities, I told myself. The apprehension money wouldn't do me much good if I was dead.
Sally went off to the bar, and I went off to the ladies' room. I pushed through the door labeled Rest Rooms and walked the length of a short hall. Men's room on one side. Ladies' room on the other. Another door at the end of the hall. The door closed behind me, locking out the noise.
The ladies' room was cool and even more quiet. I had a moment of apprehension when I saw it was empty. I looked under the three stall doors. No size-ten red shoes. That was stupid, I thought. Sugar wouldn't go to the ladies' room. He was a man, after all. I went into a stall and locked the door. I was sitting there enjoying the solitude when the outer door opened and another woman came into the room.
After a moment I realized I wasn't hearing any of the usual sounds. The footsteps had stopped in the middle of the room. No purse being opened. No running water. No opening and closing of another stall door. Someone was silently standing in the middle of the small room. Great. Caught on the toilet with my pants down. A woman's worst nightmare.
Probably my overactive imagination. I took a deep breath and tried to steady my heartbeat, but my heartbeat wouldn't steady, and my chest felt like it was on fire. I did a mental inventory of my shoulder bag and realized the only genuine weapon was a small canister of pepper spray.
There was the scrape of high heels on the tile floor, and a pair of shoes moved into view. Red.
Shit! I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from whimpering. I was