The Temporary Detective

Chapter Forty-Six

James had never been more grateful to be sober as he barreled his way through the crowd. Frank was moving faster than he seemed from a distance, and as James drew nearer, he realized he had no idea what he was going to do or say once he reached him. He only knew he had to keep Frank from returning to the table. He wasn't sure what it was that Isobel had figured out, but he realized that her brother understood, and he seemed like a pretty smart kid.

There were only a few people separating him from Frank now, and James saw that Frank looked preoccupied.

Well, why not? He was on a date with a woman who was really a man.

Suddenly, James knew exactly what to say to Frank.

"Aw, shit," he groaned. But he had no choice. He wasn't going to let Isobel down again.

A tall woman—or was it a man?—standing between them stepped aside, and James put his hand on Frank's arm.

He cleared his throat. "I was just, er, wondering. Are you here alone?"

Frank turned, surprised, but when he caught James's eye, his face relaxed into a seductive smile.

"For you, I could be."

*  *  *

After what seemed like an eternity, Delphi arrived at Stan's table. Isobel and Percival watched as she smiled and bobbed her head.

Then Delphi grabbed Frank's glass, and as best as she could in a room growing more crowded by the second, she turned and ran.

After a moment, Stan recovered and shot to his feet, his face creased with panic.

"He's going after her!" Percival cried.

"Felice!" shouted Isobel.

"Forget about her!"

"We need her!"

But Percival was gone, shoving his way toward the mass of people separating Delphi and Stan. Delphi was heading for the front door, and Stan was knocking over patrons in hot pursuit.

Isobel slapped Felice hard on the face.

"Ow!"

"Come on, Felice," Isobel pleaded. "I need you to do something for me. You're drunk on my five-hundred-dollar bottle of Cabernet, so you owe me. I need you to stand on the table. Drunk people stand on tables all the time. Here, I'll help you." Isobel threw her arms under Felice's and tried to maneuver her slack form to her feet.

"Oooh, baby!" purred Felice.

"Come on, climb up!"

Lifting Felice was much harder than she expected. Isobel blew in her face and, in a final act of desperation, tossed the remains of her wineglass at her. Somewhat revived, Felice allowed herself to be pulled up onto the table where she stood, swaying precipitously.

Isobel called up to her. "Come on, wave hello to all your fans! Loud as you can. Ladies and gentlemen, the one and only, the fabulous Felice Edwards!" She put her fingers to her lips and blew a piercing whistle.

Felice did as she was told, and several people nearby pointed at her and laughed. Isobel grabbed a small hand-blown bottle from the arrangement atop the divider and threw it with all her might in Stan's direction. It hit the back of a magenta-haired girl in Goth dress, knocking her down, and several people cried out, startled.

But it did the trick. Stan stopped in his tracks and squinted in their direction. Isobel quickly ducked below the divider, watching him through the remaining bottles. She was banking on the fact that Felice in her club getup would be unrecognizable to Stan, yet somehow familiar. If Stan took a moment to work out who she was, then stopped to absorb the fact that InterBank's director of human resources was standing on a table waving wildly at him, it might be enough to buy Delphi and Percival the time they needed. Isobel watched the play of emotions across Stan's face. He looked confused, shocked, and then terrified.

Percival took a flying leap and landed on Stan's back. He threw an arm around Stan's neck and yanked the wig half off his head. Stan shouted and tried to knock Percival off, but he rode Stan to the floor like a cowboy on a bucking horse. As the commotion grew, the crowd parted, giving Delphi a clear path to the club's entrance. She put on speed, wrenched open the black door through which they had fought so hard to come in, and disappeared into the night.

"This is fuuuuun!" Felice squealed.

Isobel climbed up next to her on the table and looked over the heads of the crowd until she spotted James and Frank. Frank was staring, openmouthed at Felice. His face darkened with anger as he spotted Isobel, and they locked eyes for a moment. Then Frank made a dash to one side, but James was ready for him with a quick right to the jaw, and in a moment, they too were grappling on the ground.

A tall, handsome Latin man was advancing angrily toward them. "Break it up! Or I'll call the police!"

"I already have!" Isobel screamed, but he didn't hear her.

It didn't matter. At that moment, the front door of the club opened again, and in came Dexter, Detective Kozinski, Detective Harvey, and two other police officers.

Behind them trailed Delphi, clutching the small glass of Amaretto to her chest like an Academy Award.