Swingin' in the Rain by Eileen Davidson Page A

never been there?”
      “No,” I said, “never.”
      She sipped her coffee and continued to look amused. It pissed me off.
      “Okay, stop looking at me like that and tell me what’s going on.”
      “That,” she said, taking the napkin back and waving it around like a flag, “is a swingers club.”
      “Swingers?” I said. “You mean like keys in a bowl swingers? I thought that went out with the sixties.”
      “No,” she said, “you’re thinkin’ of wife swapping. This is swingin’.”
      “So people go there to have sex? With somebody?”
      “With somebody, anybody and everybody.”
      I frowned. So this was where Patti and Randy met? I needed to regroup, here. This had never crossed my mind. I didn’t know which one surprised me more. Well, okay Patti. Randy, I at least knew, could be a little twisted and leaned toward the slightly dangerous things in life. But Patti? Always so professional and quiet a swinger?  I mean she looked great even if she was pushing 60. And I knew she could get a groove on after some shots of tequila, but who knew her groove was that kind of groove? Yeah, that was the bigger surprise.
      “Why do you have this napkin, I mean, if you’ve never been there?” Tonja asked, a little skeptical. “Research for a part?”
      It occurred to me to seize that as an excuse, but then I thought no. If I was going to find out who killed Randy, I was really going to need someone to watch Sarah from time to time. So, I decided to be truthful.
      I told her the whole story.
     
     
      “Oh my God,” she said, after I finished. “Alex!” She reached out and put her hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
      “It’s okay,” I said. “I got over Randy a long time ago. It’s Sarah I’m worried about.”
      “You haven’t told her yet?”
      “I want to be able to tell her how and why her daddy died,” I said. “I mean, that he was murdered . . .”
      “You’re gonna tell her he was murdered?” she asked. “And why?”
      I drank some coffee.
      “Maybe it’s for my own benefit. Maybe I need to know the how, the why and the who before I tell her. I don’t know.  I’m just trying to do what feels right, Tonja.”
      “Well, I can see that, I guess.”
      “I need your help, though,” I said.
      “Sure, I’ll be glad to help. What do you want me to do?”
      “I have to go to this club tonight to meet Patti,” I said.
      “The make-up artist who knew Randy?”
      “Yes, I still have to find out how she knew Randy. Why he had the clubs logo tattooed on his arm? What does that mean? I’m hoping to get something out of her tonight.”
      “You think she knows who killed him?”
      “Maybe not exactly,” I said. “But if she and Randy were in that life, maybe she can point me to some people he pissed off.  He was good at that.”
      “And you think he made somebody mad enough to kill him?”
      “It’s obvious that’s what he did,” I said. “I just need to find out who.”
      “So, you’re goin’ to this club tonight?”
      “Yes, and I need you to watch Sarah.”
      Excitedly, she said, “I have a better idea. Let me go with you.”
      “Why?” I asked. “Have you been there before?”
      “Not to that club, but I’ve been to others. There are certain . . . protocols you’ll have to adhere to.”
      “Yeah, so I found out. Patti said that tonight was ‘cowboy’ night. I need chaps or . . . something cowboyish. Are there more things I need to know?”
      “Definitely,” she said with a smile.
      “And you know them?”
      “I had a boyfriend for a short time who was into it,” she said. “I went with him a few times, but I could never . . . you know . . . I just . . . watched.”
      I studied her and asked, “You just... watched?” Her eyes were darting around so I knew she was lying. Jakes was a master!
      “I just watched,” she said. “We broke up soon after that. Anyway, you’ll