"You can get a T-shirt with that on it," Tammy informed me. 'Twenty bucks."

"Great," I said, as I opened the folder.

It turned out that it was a menu of sorts. It was personalized to Tammy. It contained a single sheet of paper with two columns on it. One listed the sexual acts she was willing to perform and the lengths of individual sessions, and the other.listed the prices these services would cost the customer. After two of the listed sexual acts were asterisks. At the bottom it was explained that an asterisk denoted a personal specialty.

"So," I said, staring at the columns. "I think I might need a translator for some of these."

"I'll help you. Which ones?"

"How much is it just to talk?"

"What do you mean, like talk dirty to you? Or you talk dirty to me?"

"No, just talk. I want to ask you about a guy I'm looking for. He's from around here." Her posture changed. She sat up straighter and in doing so put a couple inches of space between us, which was fine because her perfume was searing my already incense-burned nasal plates.

"I think you better talk to Tawny when she's finished."

"I want to talk to you, Tammy. I've got a hundred bucks for five minutes. I'll double it if you give me a line on this guy."

She hesitated as she thought about it. Two hundred bucks wouldn't even cover an hour's work, according to the menu. But I had a feeling the menu prices were negotiable and, besides, there was nobody lined up on the pink cement to get in here.

"Somebody's going to take my money here," I said. "It might as well be you."

"Okay, but it has to be quick. If Tawny finds out you ain't a paying customer she's going to kick you out and put me at the back of the line."

Now I understood. She had answered the door because she was up. I could have picked from any of the women on the couches but Tammy got the first shot at me.

I reached into my pocket for my money and gave her the hundred. I kept the rest in my hand as I pulled out the file and opened it. Rachel had made a mistake asking the women at Sheila's if they recognized any of the men in the photos. That was because she didn't have the confidence I had. I was more certain of my theory and I didn't make that mistake with Tammy.

The first photo I showed her was the front shot of Shandy on Terry McCaleb's boat. "When was the last time you saw him around here?" I asked.

Tammy looked at the photo for a long moment. She didn't take it from me, though I would have given it to her to hold. After what seemed like an interminable moment, when I thought the door would swing open and the woman named Tawny would order me out, she finally spoke.

"I don't know… at least a month, maybe more. He hasn't been around."

I felt like climbing on the bed and bouncing, but I kept my cool. I wanted her to believe I knew everything she was telling me. She would feel more comfortable that way and be more forthcoming.

"Do you remember where it was you saw him?"

"Just out front. I walked a customer out and Tom was there waiting."

"Uh-huh. Did he say anything to you?"

"No, he never does. He doesn't even know me really."

"Then what happened?"

"Nothing happened. My guy got in the car and they drove away."

I was beginning to get a picture. Tom had a car. He was a driver.

"Who called him? Was it you or had the client already done that?"

"It was Tawny probably. I don't really remember."

"Because it happened all the time."

"Yeah."

"But he hasn't been around in, what, a month?"

"Yeah. Maybe more. Is that enough of a lead? I mean, what do you want?" She was looking at the second hundred in my hand.

'Two things. You know Tom's last name?"

"No."

"Okay, how does somebody get a hold of him if they need a ride?"

"Call him, I guess."

"Can you get me the number?"

"Just go over to the sports bar, that's where we call him. I don't know the number offhand. It's up there next to the phone in front."

"The sports bar, okay."

I didn't give her the money.

"One last thing."

"You keep saying that."

"I know but I mean it this time."

I showed her the six-pack of photos Rachel had brought of the missing men. These were better and much clearer than the photos that had run with the newspaper article. These were full-color candids given to Vegas Metro by their families and then turned over as a courtesy to the FBI.

"Any of these guys your customers?"

"Look, mister, we don't talk about customers. We're very discreet and don't give out that kind of information."

"They're dead, Tammy. It doesn't matter."

Her eyes widened and then lowered to the photos in my hand. These she took and she looked through them tike they made up a hand of cards. I could tell by the way her eyes flared that she'd been dealt an ace.

"What?"

"Well, this one guy looks like a guy that was here. He was with Mecca, I think. You could ask her." I heard a horn honk twice. I knew it was from my car. Rachel was getting impatient.

"Go get Mecca and bring her back here. I'll give you the rest of the money then. Tell her I've got some money for her, too. Don't tell her what I want. Tell her I just want two girls at once."

"All right, but that's it. You pay me."

"I will."

She left the room and I sat on the bed looking around while I waited. The walls were paneled with fake cherry wood. There was one window with a frilly curtain. I leaned across the bed and pulled the curtain open. The view was of nothing but barren desert. The bed and the trailer might as well be sitting on the moon.

The door opened and I turned back, ready to give Tammy the rest of her money and to dive into my pocket for Mecca 's share. But there weren't two women in the doorway. There were two men. They were big-one larger than the other-and their arms below their black T-shirts were completely carved up with jailhouse ink. On the bigger man's bulging biceps was a skull with a halo above it and that told me who they were.

"What's up, Doc?" said the bigger one.

"You must be Tawny," I said.

Without a word he reached down and grabbed two fistfuls of my jacket. He pulled me up off the bed and tossed me out into the hallway to the waiting arms of his partner. The new one shoved me down the hallway in the opposite direction I had come into the trailer from. I realized that the horn honk from Rachel had been a warning, not a sign of impatience. I was wishing I had read that right when Big and Little Steroid shoved me through a back door and onto the rocky terrain of the desert.

I went down to my hands and knees and was gathering myself and getting up when one of them put his boot on my hip and shoved me down again. I tried to get up again and this time they let me.

"I said, what's up, Doc? You got business here?"

"I was just asking questions and I was willing to pay for the answers. I didn't think that was a problem."

"Well, pal, that is a problem."

They were advancing on me, the big man first. He was so big I couldn't even see his little brother behind him. I was taking a step backward for every one they took forward. And I had a bad feeling that that was what they wanted. They were backing me toward something, maybe a hole in the ground out there in the sand and rock.

"Who are you, boy?"

"I'm a private detective from L.A. I'm just looking for a missing man, that's all."

"Yeah, well, people who come here don't want to be looked for."

"I understand that now. I'll just clear out of here and you won't-"

"Excuse me."

We all stopped. It was Rachel's voice. The bigger man turned back toward the trailer and his shoulder lowered a few inches. I could see Rachel coming out the back door of the trailer. Her hands were at her sides.

"What's this, you bring your mother?" Big Steroid said.