Just Between Us...

Coco Cabana (she’d fought not to snicker) was more than just your average, run-of-the-mill hooker. First off, she had to be pushing fifty, a fact no amount of makeup, exercise or designer clothing could hide.

Second, she wasn’t a woman at all, but a man.

Of course, Coco hadn’t come right out and shared the information. And Mallory guessed that, after sundown, shadows obscured age and gender and Coco would probably be drop-dead gorgeous. But Mallory knew the score the instant she began talking to him.

He…she…whatever…was also the first person among the dozens Mallory had interviewed who knew more about The Red Gardenia than just passing rumor.

Coco lifted a cigarette to her mouth, her nails long, talonlike and blood-red. “Sure, I knew The Red Gardenia.” She rolled her eyes, blue ones enhanced with spidery false eyelashes and blue eye makeup. “We both arrived in L.A. at about the same time.”

Mallory’s heart skipped a beat. But she still didn’t completely trust the extent of Coco’s knowledge. “And her real name was…”

“Jenny Fuller, of course.”

Check.

“And she was from?”

Coco waved her cigarette. “Omaha, I think. Yeah. It was Nebraska.”

Double check.

“Horrible tragedy, that one,” Coco added with a sigh. “She had a future. Could have been a real contender.”

Now that was a different take. Most people Mallory spoke to said that Jenny Fuller had probably gotten what she deserved. That Hollywood had a way of glossing over the details and that a good girl usually wasn’t all she appeared.

Mallory sometimes wondered how much bad a girl from Nebraska could get into in six months.

Jenny Fuller’s story wasn’t all that unusual. People who came to L.A. armed only with their dreams were a dime a dozen. But the aspiring actress—whose claim to fame had been a beer ad that featured her wearing a twenties getup and a red gardenia in her hair—and her unsolved murder twenty-five years ago had come to represent all those forgotten someones whose dreams of stardom had ended, and would end, in tragedy.

Mallory looked back to Coco. She’d been digging for more info of the sympathetic and specific variety for months now. And while it seemed her personal life was in the dumps, her professional life appeared to have just taken a full tilt toward the better.

At least she hoped so.

“Look,” Coco said. “If you’re not going to feed me, pay me, or provide some other kind of amusement, sweetie, then I’m going to have to move on. This is a working day, you know.”

Mallory tried to hide her smile. “Tell me about it.”

Coco reached into her sequined purse, watched as a Cadillac with tinted windows rolled by, then reapplied peach-colored lip gloss that Mallory suspected she could see her reflection in if she leaned in close enough. “My landlord just kicked me out this morning so I need some quick cash to look for a place.”

Mallory pointed her finger at the hooker then back at herself. “You and me both.”

Coco leaned back in order to get a better overall look at Mallory. “Girl, you’ve got to work on your appearance if you hope to get any business.”

Mallory nearly choked. “Strangely enough, talking to you now is working for me.” She flipped her notepad closed and considered the other, um, woman. All she had to do was say the word and Candy Cane would snap up Coco without batting an eyelash. Lost causes seemed to be her middle name. As long as Coco didn’t have any animal allergies, these two people who shared the same vocation would get along famously. “Look, I have a friend in my apartment complex who would be willing to put you up until you find a place. What would it mean to you if I gave this friend a call and checked it out for you?”

“Monetarily?” Coco asked.

“Information wise.”

Coco stared at her unblinkingly. “On The Red Gardenia?”

Mallory nodded.

Coco took three quick drags off her cigarette then picked a piece of tobacco off her tongue as she considered the proposition. “Where’s this place?”

Mallory had her and she knew it.

Yes! Her first real lead in The Red Gardenia case.

Her smile slipped.

Well, it wasn’t really a lead. But it was information that the police didn’t appear to have. Of course, she had to remind herself, her goal wasn’t to actually solve the case, but rather to create a more vivid picture of the young actress who had been murdered twenty-five years ago.

But if she did happen to solve the case…

She shivered all over.

Behind her Jack’s horn blew again.

“Do you have time to go see the place now?” Mallory asked.

WHERE DOES SHE FIND these people?

Jack pulled up outside Mallory’s apartment complex then glanced in his rearview mirror where “Coco” was staring into a round compact repairing his mask. Jack squeezed and released the steering wheel several times. Two large, faded tapestry suitcases were in his trunk. Lord only knew what they held.

Surely Mallory wasn’t going to let Coco move in with her.

“Do you want to come to Candy’s with me, or wait here?”

Jack knew a moment of relief. Good. She was taking the aging transvestite to Candy’s. He tried to make out if Coco’s cleavage was real. Well, not real, but surgically or hormonally enhanced. Oh, yeah, there were real swells there, all right. Then what would that make him? A transsexual? He supposed it all depended on if his original equipment was still intact.

He glanced at Mallory to find her glaring at him.

What? he asked silently.

Then he realized she was piqued because he’d been staring at Coco’s cleavage.

“So?” she asked.

“So what?”

“Are you going to wait here or come with us?”

He considered her for a long moment. He’d been with her for the past two hours and she had yet to breathe one word about last night. In fact, he would have thought she’d forgotten about it altogether if not for the wary shadow he saw in her brown eyes. She’d never been wary around him before.

“None of the above,” he replied.

“Meaning?”