Page 70 of Arran's Obsession
Lara wiggled her fingers. “This is Dixie,” she introduced.
Dixie dropped my gaze. “Just last week, I made a pass at your man. In my defence, he didn’t tell anyone he was taken. Even Alisha had to pretend he was hers. He never fucks around, so I figured he was lonely and needed someone on his dick.” She slapped her hand over her mouth. “Shut me up, someone.”
I couldn’t help my grin. “You all need to stop apologising. No one’s offended me in any way. I’m just glad to be here.”
It was the right thing to say. Around us, people visibly relaxed, chatter starting once more. Dixie blew out a relieved breath.
Lara squeezed my arm then directed me to a free dressing table. “I’ll do your hair. You tackle your makeup.”
I sought out Dixie. “Could you come, too? Chat with me a minute. I’ve got something to ask.”
She agreed, and I settled into the seat and regarded myself in the mirror. After a week locked away with Arran I looked different. The same fair hair to the middle of my back, in need of a cut but glossy and probably better for a week with no straighteners or curling tongs. The same blue eyes and heart-shaped face. I couldn’t pinpoint the change, but it was real.
At least I was alive.
Dixie snuck up a hand, her reflection in the mirror. “Let me do your makeup? I’ve been taking a hair and beauty course atcollege, courtesy of the club. I’d love to try out my techniques on you.”
The memory came back to me of Arran describing how the money the club made was spent. I kind of loved that. With my acceptance, the two women set about tackling my scruffy state.
“What did you want to ask?” Lara said.
“It’s about a friend of mine.” I took a deep breath. “She worked the streets and was killed recently.”
Dixie, midway through blending contour on my cheekbones, froze. “Killed? Oh my God. You knew that hooker who worked in North Town?”
“Dix,” a man drawled from across the room. “It’s sex worker or street worker. Hooker is offensive.”
She gave him an unimpressed eyeroll. “Honey, I fuck for money. I can call it what I like.”
“Still don’t need to demean yourself.”
“It ain’t delulu if it’s trululu.”
He sniffed, and she came back to me.
“We’ve all been talking about it this week. Sorry for your loss.”
“Her name was Cherry.” I frowned. “Her street name anyway.”
Dixie leaned in conspiratorially. “Chelsea, that’s her real name. I guess you knew that, as her friend, but I overheard gossip. One of Alisha’s recruiters tried many times to get her to come here, but she wouldn’t even consider it. She liked her independence. Gotta say it made us all appreciate the safety of these four walls if there’s a killer on the loose.”
“Dixie.” Lara hissed and jabbed her heated tongs as if to indicate discretion for me.
“Oh, well, I’m sure she’ll be missed.” Dixie made a wonky sign of the cross. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I intend to find out who murdered her.”
The chatter around me ceased. Dixie and Lara swapped a glance, then Lara spoke.
“Does Arran know you’re going to do that?”
“No, but I’ll tell him.”
“Okay, phew. What do you want from us?”
I swung a look around. “Did anyone here know her?”
Grim shakes of heads and flat denials returned.