Kate Allen - Alison Kaine Mystery 1 - Tell Me What You Like by Kate Allen

Author:Kate Allen [Kate Allen]
Language: spa
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
ISBN: 9780934678483
Google: 3C5aAAAAMAAJ
Amazon: 0934678480
Publisher: New Victoria Publishers
Published: 1993-05-01T03:00:00+00:00

Stacy shuddered. "No. I know it's stupid, I know they don't know where I am and where I live, but I just couldn't bring myself to call. It was like—I don't know, inviting a vampire in your window. You know, they can be out there flapping against it, but you're safe as long as you don't ask them in. I felt like if I connected with them over the wire this voice would come on saying, "Ha, ha, ha, you slut, we've got you now!" She shrugged apologetically. "What can I say? I guess the audience gets a glimpse at my paranoia."

"Hey, I don't blame you. You've been through enough with those people. But do me a favor. Is your little lawyer friend here tonight?"

"She was earlier."

"See if you can get her in here."

Stacy saluted. "I take it your rank is higher than mine?"

"Always. Every time you get a promotion I get a better one."

As the door opened a wave of music swelled into the small room, shaking Alison as if by a heavy wind. She put both hands on the desk to brace herself and shouted, "And grab Trudy!" Hell, everybody in the world was out there. She didn't see why Trudy wouldn't be. She had little hope, though, that Stacy heard her. She would have to send her out again, for they needed to make sure that the WAV AW women hadn't changed the number themselves as she had first supposed. Stacy might be gone as long as ten or fifteen minutes fighting her way through the crowd. That gave her enough time to look at the photos.

There were two sheets, covered with strips of photos no bigger than the negatives, but less than half were of the Rubyfruit the night of the Ms. Leather contest. The others were of other current events: The Lesbian Follies and what appeared to be a square dancing group. They were tempting, but she focused resolutely on the former. Not that it did much good. They were so small that she could see what was happening only generally; she could not pick out faces and detail. There was another, bigger shot of the bikers, with the Crusaders in the background. That must have tickled the fancy of the photographer, because the next shot showed six women dressed in leather tight in front of the protesters. There were a couple of shots of the contestants inside the bar. One looked as if the flash had misfired.

And there was a shot of Tamara Garrity, easy to recognize because it was a close-up. She was pouting, posing and the light flashed off the dangling earrings that Carla had described. Alison put the sheet down, feeling sick. She would have to get the photos blown up if she wanted to see anything. It probably wouldn't be worth it.

Liz, for all that she'd had several drinks and was wearing two curled paper streamers in her hair, was quick to catch on.

"Can the leafletting be stopped legally?" Alison asked anxiously.

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