The lights suddenly dimmed and a deep smokers voice growled over the speakers. And now the moment youve all been waiting for, Nastys presents the nastiest star attraction youve ever seen, how about a warm welcome for Cougar. Take your hands out of your pants and give the clap to Cougar. Cougar. Cougar.

Apparently they liked it because the crowd went wild. Cheering, clapping, more loud sharp whistles. A good portion of the place was on their feet, a couple of guys stood on chairs to watch as Cougar strutted on stage then placed her hands on her hips and pretended to pull out guns, she shot into the crowd with both hands, pointing her index fingers and moving her thumbs like the hammer on a pistol. The crowd went crazy and there was a palpable surge toward the stage. Three well-muscled, thug-type bouncers sort of kept people back.

The thumping music started and Cougar danced across the stage, after about thirty seconds she took the scarf from around her neck, used it like a towel to rub her backside then tossed it into the crowd. There was a pushing match to get the d.a.m.n thing. I had no doubt that just ninety minutes earlier most of these idiots were probably at their desk somewhere in a bank turning down first-time home buyers or charging exorbitant ATM fees.

Grrr-rrrr, its Cougar, the voice growled over the sound system and Cougar lowered her shoulder straps and shook her enhanced features from side to side.

That brought on more whistles and cat calls. I frankly didnt get it, but then again I knew her. Of course back when I knew her, she was going by a different name, Swindle Lawless. An out of work p.o.r.n star who threatened to sue Heidi and me for rape or lack of payment. Neither charge was correct, but no good deed goes unpunished so based on the legal advice from Louie, I paid Swindle four or five hundred bucks just so shed drop the charges.

The last I heard she was striping and then at the end of the day wanted all the girls to hold hands in a prayer service where she promised to save their souls. Not what most of them needed to hear at two-thirty in the morning. They either wanted to just get home or get with the paying customer out in the parking lot. I guessed timing had never really been Swindles forte.

I tuned out the wolf whistles, the cat calls, the cheers and thought back to what Caseys across the street neighbor had said. There was one woman, strange sort of thing. Unbalanced might be the best word I can think of. Dressed like she was the worst sort of street person, but I heard from one of the neighbors she was some kind of missionary. It suddenly dawned on me, strange, unbalanced and some kind of missionary, it had to be Swindle. She was one of the renters that had turned Caseys home into the worst house on the block. No surprise. It seemed an odds-on possibility that Swindle could tell me something about the former owner, Lowell Bulski.

Chapter Twenty-One.

It was getting late and Id nursed three ten-dollar lite beers for the better part of five hours. I didnt know what I was more ashamed of, nursing the beer or the fact that they were lite. The crowd had finally thinned, the last of the bankers were in the process of dragging themselves home where theyd groan to their wives about working late hours and then fall asleep in front of the late night news.

Swindle aka Cougar had been working the crowd, giving lap dances and downing shots. I caught her eye while she was grinding away on some suit and scanning the crowd over his shoulder. She gave me an aggressive nod, pointed to me and mouthed the words, Youre next. Gee, I could hardly wait. She was staggering toward me a few minutes later.

Hey, sugar, Im all warmed up for you. What do say? You get comfy on that bar stool and for forty bucks Ill give you the time of your life, she said then struck a pose and half growled.

Hey, Swindle, hows it going?

She seemed to sag for half a moment then brightened. Back for more are we. I knew it, couldnt get enough, could you? Tell me your name again, baby, youve got me so excited I cant even think straight.

Yeah, Im sure its got nothing to do with the half dozen shots you did out there. I thought you went straight and were doing the Lords work?

That wasnt any fun, forget that s.h.i.t. So, you got forty bucks? Otherwise youre wasting my time. Whatd you say your name was?

Haskell, Dev Haskell, we.

Sure I remember, sort of. Didnt we have a three-way, after the victory party for Gino DAngelo? G.o.d, the victory that never, ever happened.

It wasnt exactly a three-way, see Three, four what the h.e.l.l difference does it make? They all run together. She slapped me on the chest then said, Hey, just for old times sake, Ill give you a deal, lets call it even at forty bucks for the time of your life. Whatd you say, Den?

Its Dev.

Okay, whatever.

How bout a shot, Swindle?

Sure is there a better way to get in the mood? she said then nodded at the crabby bartender who was standing behind me at the bar. She pulled an already poured shot off a tray next to the cash register and handed it to Swindle.

Swindle downed the thing in a nano-second, shuddered then put the empty shot gla.s.s on the bar.

The bartender took a ten off my stack of cash.

Woo-hoo-hoo, you got me cooking now, Danny boy.

Its Dev, Swindle, I just wanted to talk to you for a minute if I could.

She grinned and shook her chest from side to side. Call it anything you like, baby, she half slurred then signaled Crabby for another shot.

Did you used to live on Holly Avenue? I asked.

She tossed the shot back then looked like she was trying to think for a minute, maybe reach back through her alcohol induced haze. I dont know any guy named Holly, she said then signaled for another shot and downed the thing before I even realized it had been pa.s.sed to her.

Oh, G.o.d, that is b.i.t.c.hing. Come on, Dave, you gotta let me do it, my treat, forty bucks, what do say, baby? She sort of staggered back a step or two then slid her hand down her hip and inside her thong. Im gonna shoot you baby, she said then attempted to pull her hand out. A ring caught on her thong and she half struggled with her hand then suddenly staggered to the side. I caught her by the shoulder and straightened her up so she didnt fall.

Swindle, do you know a guy named Lowell Bulski? I asked, just as a pair of very large hands grabbed me and put a vice grip on my upper arm.

No touching the main attraction, douche bag.

I turned to stare into the muscled chest of a very large man. I looked up into his face and recognized him as one of the thugs that had held the crowd of bankers back a few hours earlier. Tribal tattoos were wrapped around his very large biceps and he increased the pressure on his grip.

She was starting to fall and I just stopped her from going over. Tubby and Bulldog asked me to come in and keep an eye on her tonight.

That seemed to get him thinking and he let go of my arm. We aint heard nothing about that, he said, but he didnt sound all that sure.

Go check it out, maybe one of the others knows. Or give Tubby a call. I think Bulldog talked to Fat Freddy this afternoon. I was with him when he made the call, for Christs sake.

Ill check it out, ah sorry bout that. He nodded and slowly backed away.

Not a problem, Ill put in a good word, I said then turned back to Swindle, just as she was handing another empty shot gla.s.s back to Crabby.

Swindle, you were telling me about Lowell Bulski.

Hes gonna be with us, too? G.o.d, he never pays and Im not giving both of yas freebies, she said.

You know him? I said then saw the bouncer from a moment earlier talking to the other two bouncers, they were shaking their heads and then suddenly all three looked back over in my direction.

Hunh?

I said do you know him? Lowell Bulski?

You kiddin? Bulldog? Everyone knows that p.r.i.c.k. He likes it a little rough, but I dont care he can just The three of them started to move from the edge of the stage and head my way. A table of a half dozen guys in suit coats suddenly started to get up and the three thugs had to wait a half moment. That was all the time I needed to start my traveling music.

I went to grab my money off the bar, there were only three dollar bills sitting there. Hey, I said to Crabby. I had about fifty or sixty bucks sitting on the bar a moment ago.

It was sixty, actually. Swindles shots are ten bucks each, you owe me another ten, she said.

The table of bankers had cleared and the bouncers were on the move again. I pulled a folded ten from a wad in Swindles garter and tossed it on the bar.

Swindle looked like she might be trying to think of a protest, but her eyes were already glazed over at half mast and she was too far gone. She put her hands on her hips and attempted to strike a pose which caused her to stagger a couple of steps into another table where she knocked over a beer. I didnt wait to see what happened after that.

I was pulling out of Nastys parking lot and glanced in the rearview mirror just as one of those bouncers stepped out the front door and looked around. He did not appear to be happy.

Chapter Twenty-Two.

It was seven-thirty in the morning and I was sitting in Aaron LaZelles office, my Lieutenant pal in homicide. Id brought a couple of caramel rolls from Ninas just to sweeten the meeting. We were eating them with our fingers, both of us trying to cover the aftertaste from the vending machine coffee.

So, you were just on your way home from another night of debauchery and decided to stop by?

I looked around Aarons cramped office. The thing was bounded on three sides by windows. One side looked out over the dumpsters behind the building and the other two sides looked into a room full of gray-blue cubicles. All the windows had a four-dollar set of plastic blinds hanging halfway down.

What the h.e.l.l do you do if you ever want to be private in here?

Its really complicated, I just pull the blinds. Those babies are down, believe me everyone stays clear.

I nodded, it seemed to make sense. Id been on the receiving end of more than one interrogation by Aaron.

So, is there a purpose to our chance early morning meeting in my office? he said, and brushed the crumbs off his desk and into his hand, then he tossed them into the wastebasket.

Ive been doing some checking around on Dermot Gallaghers d.a.m.n it, Dev I told you in no uncertain terms not to get involved. Exactly what part of stay the h.e.l.l away dont you understand? I dont want you anywhere near Whoa, will you just calm down. I didnt do anything other than look at some records.

Records? he asked and the flushed face from a moment before began to return back to normal.

Yeah, Im sleeping there, at Caseys and Dermots.

Please tell me you two arent shacking up.

You kidding, give the woman some credit. Shes got a little higher standards than sleeping with someone like me. No, she was just uncomfortable being there and then she was worried about someone casing the place and breaking in so I told her Id stay there.

You actually did something nice?

Yeah, I know, even I was kind of surprised.

And you were there reviewing records?

Yeah, but not there, I went down to PRR to check out their records.

And?

The name Lowell Bulski ring any bells?

The Bulldog? You ran into that a.s.s at PRR?

What? No, of course not, but I did find out that he was the guy that sold the house to Casey and Dermot. Let me rephrase that, he was the owner of record, he wasnt at the closing. He was represented at the closing by an attorney, Jackie Van Dorn.

G.o.d, that sleaze bag.

That seems to be the general consensus. I just thought if you guys werent aware of that it certainly seems to be an interesting little bit of trivia. Maybe a direction you might consider looking into if you havent already.

Aaron nodded. They had been in that place for a couple of years, right?

Almost two-and-a-half. It was pretty torn up when Dermot was murdered, some sort of a major project going on in just about every room and they were the worker-bees, if that translates.

Aaron nodded.

Its even crazier now, shes got to sell the place, cant make the payments on her own and well, frankly, I think shes just d.a.m.n uncomfortable there. Shes staying at one of her brothers for the time being. Contractors are in there from seven-thirty in the morning to five at night, banging, sawing, welding, G.o.d, Ive been at the office before nine just about every morning.

Gee, starting at nine, you early bird. Im sure youre loving that.

Not really. Anyway, I was sort of wondering if youd have anything on your pal Bulldog.

Have anything? Aaron asked then started clicking keys on his computer.

Yeah, like where he might have been when the sale of that house was going down. Why he wasnt there.

Aaron sort of gave a disgusted smirk then nodded and clicked a few more keys. Here we go, Bulski, yeah, Im guessing they maybe bought that place in late 2012 or early 2013?

Yeah, sounds about right.

Bulldog was on a sabbatical.

A sabbatical?

Yeah, Lino Lakes, he was doing eighteen months for a possession with intent to distribute charge.

Eighteen months seems like kind of a light sentence for him.

You can thank the winning combination of our enlightened judiciary and the lawyerly skills of Councilor Van Dorn.

So thats why he wasnt around?

Might also be why he sold.

Hows that?

Hes locked up for a period of time, even so hes got some obligations I would guess, on and no doubt, off the books. It may be why Van Dorn was involved although Id be willing to guess the a.s.sociation with Tubby Gustafson probably had more to do with it. You remember a thug named George Marcela?

Yeah, wasnt he called Georgie Boy?

That was his nice side, his other name was Chopper, for obvious reasons.

I gave Aaron a look.