behind me and ducked. Something crashed into the door and I pivoted, then reached up and caught the baseball bat under my arm. I swept my left hand up, slamming it into the bartender’s elbow and I heard a satisfying pop. He let go of the bat, yelped a little and I flipped it around so it was in my hand. I rested it over my shoulder and winked at him. He glared at me and I used the bat like a cattle prod to herd him into the office where I could keep an eye on all three of them. I closed the door behind me.
“Boy, you guys have got a real customer service problem,” I said.
“Fuck you,” the blonde said. The black girl hadn’t moved.
I nodded to the black girl, “Employee of the Month, I assume?”
“Very funny,” the blonde said. “What do you want?”
“Larry Grasso.”
“Never heard of him.”
“Wanna think about it?” I said.
“No,” the blonde said. “Jesus, I never heard of the guy.” She looked at the bartender and he shook his head. To be honest, I couldn’t tell if they were lying or not. Sometimes it’s obvious. Sometimes you just don’t know.
I thought about it. I could make some more empty threats or I could just cut my losses and thank God I wasn’t wearing a Louisville Slugger tattoo on my temple.
“Thanks for the souvenir,” I said, opening the door and stepping out into the club. The same girl was dancing and the same customers were staring at her. Breathing through their mouths.
I walked outside, feeling a little silly carrying a baseball bat on my shoulder like I was about to start hitting flyballs for outfielder practice. Something told me I wasn’t doing this right. Whether or not they knew Grasso was moot. They were clearly the type that didn’t want to tell anyone anything. I thought about what I’d done, maybe I should have come up with a better story. I popped the trunk and threw the bat inside. Who knew when it might come in handy?
I backed the Sunbird out of the spot and was about to turn out of the parking lot when I saw a flutter of movement off to my left. I looked. At the back of the building was the skinny black girl and she was waving at me. I drove around and pulled up next to her. She leaned in.
“I’ll tell you where he is for five hundred bucks.”
I pulled out my wallet and counted. “I’ve got three hundred and sixty.”
Her face was thin. Her eyes haunted. She was clearly on drugs. Malnourished. Desperate.
I held the money out to her and when she reached for it, I pulled it back.
“He’s in a house on Barrington with a dancer named Ginger,” she said. I remembered when Nate gave me the address from the black Nova’s registration, it had been in a woman’s name. The name wasn’t Ginger, though. It was something plain like Mindy or Missy. Melissa. That was it. Melissa.
“Is Ginger’s real name Melissa?”
She gave me a look like I was certifiable.
“No real names, I get it,” I said.
“Do you know the address?” I said. “Roughly?”
Her eyes took on a strange look and I said, “If you don’t know, don’t lie.”
She nodded then said, “All’s I remember is it’s got a front porch with a refrigerator on it.”
I handed her the money. She took it and her face took on a flush, already anticipating the drugs.
“Don’t even think of calling them to tell them I’m coming,” I said. “Or I’ll come back for a refund, do you know what I mean?” Actually, I had no intention of coming back but I had to at least make an attempt at the tough guy routine. Sober, she wouldn’t buy it. Strung out like she was, she might consider it. Anyone who knew me, of course, would have doubled over with laughter.
She hurried away from the car and darted back into the building through the door. If the big blonde found out she’d given me the information, I was sure she would have her ass. Literally.
But I had a lead.
Thirty-three
Barrington was located on the southern end of Grosse Pointe, bordering Detroit. All the exciting stuff happened down here. You could take your mansions and your yacht clubs and everything else from Grosse Pointe proper, but it was down here in the area they called the Cabbage Patch that all the excitement went down. They called it the Cabbage Patch, by the way, because