The Narrows

customer."
    I looked at Tammy. She seemed the most eager. She was very small and top heavy and had short brown hair. She would be considered attractive to some men but not to me. I told her she would do just fine and she led me back through a hallway that turned to the right and into another trailer. There were three private rooms on the left and she went to the third one and used a key to open it. We went in and she closed the door but didn't lock it. There was barely enough room to stand because a king-size bed took up most of the space.
    Tammy sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to her. I sat and she reached to a shelf full of well-thumbed mystery novels and pulled down what looked like a restaurant menu and gave it to me. It was a thin folder with a caricature drawing on the front. It showed a naked woman on her hands and knees and bent over, turning to look back at and wink at the man who was entering her from the rear. The man was naked, too, except for a cowboy hat and the holstered six-shooters on his hips. One hand was up in the air and holding a lasso. The rope rose above the couple and formed the words Tawny's High Five.
    "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