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Jinx gasped, “Damn, that’s the first time I’ve ever been turned on by a prayer.”
    “Amen,” Synola said.

Chapter Six
     
    By the time the girls changed into clothes more appropriate for strip clubs and met back at Tizzy’s, daylight began to fade. Tizzy eyed Synola’s fashion choice. Balanced on caged stilettos, she modeled Leopard-print leggings and a metallic gold blouse. Rayann went the more conservative route with a well fitted black tank top under a lace motorcycle jacket and basic heels. Tizzy decided to concentrate on shoes. She wore Victorian Vixen Boots, laced to the ankle, with black leather pants and a plain white shirt.
    Earlier she’d forced herself to eat a few saltine crackers, thinking they were the only thing she could keep down. Each time she thought of Ridge, she felt sick. Something terrible had happened to him. She was sure of it. What if I can’t find him in time? What if it’s already too late?
    No . She told herself. If whoever took him wanted him dead, they would have killed him at Browning House. At that thought, she gave an involuntary shudder. She wouldn’t—she couldn’t, think like that. She shoved the fear to the deepest part of her heart. The same place she’d kept the grief and anger when Boone died. She knew from experience, if you kept it down long enough, eventually it would go away.
    Clearing her head, she thought back to their earlier planning session as to how the investigation should go. They agreed to ride together, but Jinx would enter separate from the girls. With him appearing to be alone, he’d be able to keep an eye on them and hopefully, not send up any red flags as they asked questions.
    They’d also come up with a cover story. They would pretend to be strippers looking for work. With Christmas only a couple of months away, girls always needed extra cash. The first club on the list was Double D’s on Grand Avenue.
    Once on the road, with the plan in place, Rayann dug in her purse and pulled out a piece of paper. “Hey, I thought it would be fun to give ourselves some stripper names. I found this chart online where you take letters from your name and match them with suggested performance names. According to the website, I’ll be Sugar Candy. Tizzy, you’ll be Velvet Blaze and Synola, you’re now Cinnamon Dream. Don’t you love them?”
    “You’re kidding,” Tizzy said.
    “No. If we want to work as strippers, we need stripper names,” Rayann looked over her shoulder. “Right, Jinx?”
    “She has a point.”
    “See, Tizzy. Jinx likes the plan.”
    Tizzy nodded. “Okay, we’ll do it. You’re Sugar, Synola is Cinnamon, and I’m Velveeta.”
    “VELVET, not Vel-vee-ta.”
    “Oh, sorry. I got confused since the two of you are in a food group, I thought I was too.”
    When they wheeled into Double-D’s parking lot, the sign out front read Welcome Texas Clowns Association.
    Rayann gasped and wrung her hands. “Oh my Lord! I can’t go in. They’ve got clowns in there. I’m afraid of clowns. I hate clowns. They wear all that scary make-up, big noses and those crazy wigs. I’ll wait here.”
    “Good grief, Rayann. You are not sitting in the car.” Synola lowered her voice. “Just think about it. You’ll be in the dark. Clowns will be coming and going. They’ll see you. Probably want to know why you’re all by yourself and why you don’t want to come inside. They’re clowns for God’s sakes. Bozo, Clarabelle . . .”
    “Homey,” Tizzy chimed in.
    Rayann winced. “Pennywise, the Joker, John Wayne Gacy.”
    Jinx laughed. “Gacy was a serial killer.”
    “My point exactly,” Rayann blurted. “He was also Pogo the Clown.”
    “Good Lord, Rayann.” Tizzy rolled her eyes. “I’m sure these will be happy clowns. Besides, I don’t think they’ll be in costume. They’re just a bunch of regular guys attending a convention enjoying a night on the town.”
    “OKAY, OKAY! I’m going in, but you better stay right with me.” She jerked