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claiming to be vegetarian. Even I knew fish and chicken were meat. Hell, milk was just liquid meat. Around the college where I coached, the vegetarian places were on every corner. What was uncommon, however, was a femme who would mix a stiff drink and eat a slab of meat. But I understood Darcy. Some people were poseurs and didn’t know it. What’s more, they didn’t want to know it.
    “Sure, let’s do that some time. Suppose you tell me what you know about Michelle?”
    “Let’s rock and roll!” Jhoaeneyie exclaimed.
    Darcy flew through her nervous tics, which seemed odd for this wall of a woman. It would’ve fit her flyweight girlfriend better. Jack had gone to negotiate with the DJ for some better songs.
    “All I know is, you better talk to Max Abbott. The number is in the book. Max can tell you everything.”
    “Max Abbott.” I wrote it on a napkin wondering why in the hell Darcy couldn’t have told me this on the goddamn telephone. What a motherfucking waste of time. It didn’t occur to me until later that Darcy was lonely and wanted to be the first in town to lay claim to a new friend. I never considered that Darcy just wanted a night out and used me to get it. I continued, “Okay, what about this character…” I dug in the pocket of my navy sport coat for the scrap of paper I had saved since Michelle’s desperate call. “What about this Sloane Weatherly?”
    Darcy motioned for me to shut up. Then she looked around and shook her head. “Don’t go looking for Sloane. Nobody wants to be found by Sloane. Leave it. Let that be, okay?” Darcy gathered my unused matches and tried, with her thumb, to light them, one after the other.
    “Sloane is baaaad newwwwws, ”Jhoaeneyie said, then held up her hand. “But I can’t tell you why.” Ava-Suzanne just clenched up angrily, like a fussy fist.
    I shrugged. “Okay. Listen, thanks for everything. It was nice meeting all of you. I can’t tell you what a help you’ve been,” I lied. “I’ll buy the next round. I’ve got to go.” I sucked the remaining foam from my beer and helped myself to another of Jack’s cigarettes, automatically flicking my thumbnail across the head of a match I removed from my pocket and applying it to the tip. “Not as easy as it looks,” I murmured. I motioned the bartender over, gave her the money for my own tab, a large tip, plus the next round for Jack, at whom I winked before sliding off the stool and into the night.

Chapter Seven
     
    I struggled to get a deep breath. It had been easier to breathe in the bar. The atmosphere was like being under the ocean, the heat was like the center of a volcano, and the air was heavy and sodden. I called Max Abbott. A woman answered and told me that yes, Max would still receive visitors at this time of night. I hung up and even though I had been told she was dead, I tried to call Michelle. Still nothing. I wiped my face, which was slick with oil and sweat. I asked someone in the car next to mine how to get to Max’s address. Oklahomans were nice, obliging people and I liked most of them so far.
    After continually wiping sweat from my face just to have it reappear, I fidgeted in the marble entryway of Max Abbott’s house. Maybe I should just leave this alone and go home. What the hell was I doing, anyway? A fool’s errand. Michelle would laugh at me. I was just removing the keys from my pocket to leave when a noise at the top of the stairs startled me.
    As the woman descended the stairs, I felt two things: one, a flash of shocked recognition. This was the redhead from the club earlier tonight! The one who had called me a pickaninny and blown me off. So, she was in a sham marriage to this dude Max Abbott and liked lesbian action on the side. Well, I wouldn’t play that. The second thing I felt was a flush creeping over my body. It was especially prickly where my slacks met.
    The woman was the sort who had three expressions: about to have sex, having sex, and just finished having