“I see…but that doesn’t change the fact that we still need you to come in to give your statement. You too.” The cop looked thoughtfully at Rex. “I suppose it could wait until tomorrow. Would you bring your boyfriend into the station in the morning, so you can both give us a formal statement?”
I opened my mouth to argue when Rex interrupted. “Of course. I’ll drive him there myself. Hollywood precinct?”
“That’s right.” The officer pulled out a business card and handed it to Rex instead of me. It irritated me to no end.
Rex took it, slipping it into his pocket as he nodded at the officer. “We’ll be there.” He shook his hand before looking at me. “Let’s go.”
I pulled away from him, frowning. “I drove here. I no leave my car.” Two officers were stretching police tape around the fratboys’ car and mine, right next to it. My heart sank as I looked at Rex.
He looked sympathetic. “Your car is the blue one?”
I straightened, lifting my chin. I loved my beautiful Thunderbird. “Yes.”
“It looks like it’s part of a crime scene, sugar. I think you’re gonna have to leave it parked in the lot overnight.”
I frowned. “Really?”
He nodded. “I’m afraid so. Let me drive you home.”
I sagged, feeling defeated. “All right. Let me grab my duffel and keys. I drop them when I was running.”
“Okay.” Rex walked by my side as we crossed the parking lot. Droplets of Terry’s blood were on the ground next to my keys, and I shuddered. I reached down and picked them up as Rex retrieved my duffel, a few feet away. I watched how effortlessly he hooked it over his shoulder. He smiled at me and stepped close, slipping his arm around my shoulders. “Come on.”
The warmth of his big, strong body was comforting. It took everything in me not to pull away. I felt helpless, like everything was out of my control. I certainly didn’t like people making assumptions about me. When Rex hadn’t contradicted the officer’s assumption that we were boyfriends and then taken the business card, I felt like things were spiraling out of my control. I hated that.
Besides, I knew nothing about this cowboy other than that he was a member of the federales. When forced to admit it, though, I trusted him. I couldn’t explain it. Most guys made me nervous since they usually had only one thing on their minds when they came on to me at the club. It’s why I always try to laugh off their advances. In my off hours, I was always cautious about guys,probably because of my experience with the club. No one ever wanted to just get to know me. They just wanted to find a way to get into my bikini briefs.
I couldn’t deny there was something about the big man that attracted me. The cowboy was very handsome. He had a closely trimmed beard on a square jaw and military style, cropped, sandy blond hair which was very appealing. Though he hadn’t come right out and said he was gay, I suspected he was. Unless he hadn’t known Dance Hall Boys was a gay club, that is. Also, he liked calling me by pet names like sugar. He hadn’t said it in a putting down way like someone making fun of a gay go-go dancer. The way Rex used it had been sweet, not bothering me at all.
The club did get many straight men and women, but they were usually there with their gay BFFs. Sometimes, a group of women would come who thought it would be fun to ogle the guys dancing together and kissing on the dance floor. Like it was funny to point and giggle over men who were kissing or being affectionate with each other like straight couples. I tried to take it in my stride even though it bugged me.
I was surprised when Rex stopped us at an old car. I hadn’t known what he’d drive—probably some huge truck, maybe with a pair of horns stuck to the hood and a ball sac hanging below the license plate. I chuckled to myself as my imagination ran wild. I tended to go off in my own world sometimes. Still, it was always a bad idea to stereotype people. I’d been a victim of it most of my life.
Rex’s car was big, but no horns. It was painted with green, peeling paint and plenty of gray primer in certain places. He opened the door with a key rather than a key fob which probably hadn’t been invented when the car was made. The door made aterrible sound as he opened it. I smiled up at him as he returned it with a shy smile of his own.
“Ain’t the fanciest car in the world, but it runs great. Take a seat.”
I nodded, looking down at the floor of the passenger seat. “Should I just move that to the back?”
He snatched up the plastic bag. “Sorry about that. Let me move it for you.” When he opened it and looked inside, I caught a glimpse of pink lace and several bows before he quickly closed the bag and tossed it in the backseat.
I was certain he’d picked up something for a woman which puzzled me. Maybe he wasn’t gay after all. I ignored the urge to open my big mouth and ask a question that was none of my business. I climbed into the rolling wreck’s passenger seat and fastened my seatbelt as he closed the door for me. He climbed in, folding his long, muscled legs into the driver’s side. The car fitted him perfectly and not surprisingly, he looked good sitting there.
“What kind of car this is?”
He glanced over and grinned at me. “It’s a 1970 AMC Hornet.”
I’d never heard of it. “AMC?”
“American Motors Corporation. They went out of business decades ago…well, actually Chrysler bought ‘em.” He started the car with a roar. All I could do was grin.
“Well, it sound like it runs just fine.”
He nodded as he checked the rearview mirror and pulled out of the parking space. “It runs like a dream.”
I decided I should make small talk. “Why I never hear of American Motors?”
He glanced over at me, giving me an up and down look. “I’m pretty sure they went out of business at least a decade before you were born.”
