“Lillie Virgil,” she said. “U.S. Marshal. You’ve probably seen me around before. Shitbirds are drawn to this place like the fucking swallows to Capistrano.”

“Why you gotta go and be like that?” the manager said. “Speaking to me like I ain’t nothin’. Running down my place. This is the number one gentlemen’s club in the Mid-South. I picked up the award myself at last year’s expo presented at the Criss Angel Theater in Vegas.”

“Criss Angel Theater?” Lillie said. “Whoo-wee. Your momma must be real proud.”

The bald-headed manager stood there, his back to the white faux-leather doors into the club. Lillie could hear the pumping dance music and smell the fried food. A sign above the door read: no concealed weapons: guns, knives, etc. on this property. Nothing like a down-home Memphis shake joint.

Lillie was about to press harder as a stout woman with a black and red weave busted out from the front doors. Domino had on a red bikini with no shoes, dollar bills crammed into her G-string. Her backside looked like two scoops of melting chocolate ice cream.

“Heard you was looking for me,” Domino said. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Looking for your cousin Ladarius.”

“Hadn’t seen that boy since Christmastime down in the country,” she said. “Momma Della Mae made us a big spread. Biscuits, homemade sausage, and gravy. Fried pies. All that shit.”

Domino patted the manager’s arm and the man kept on staring at Lillie for a moment before turning and walking away. The bouncer stood by the twin doors into the club.

“He was at your apartment last night,” Lillie said.

“Who the fuck told you that?”

“D’Shawn,” Lillie said, lying. “Y’all had a little pajama party. Drank some beers, ordered some Papa John’s.”

“Goddamn,” she said. “I’m gonna beat that boy’s ass when I get home.”

“Where they’d go?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be telling no Jane Law,” she said, looking at the badge hanging around Lillie’s neck and the Sig on her hip. “Big, sturdy woman like you shouldn’t carry no gun. You look strong enough to work that pole real good.”

“Appreciate that, Domino,” Lillie said. “Maybe if this whole U.S. Marshal gig doesn’t work out, I’ll come back and pay you a visit. I heard it’s all in the thighs.”

“Some in the thighs,” Domino said. “A little bit more in the butt. You got to know how to work that big ass. Shake it and smack it.”

“Right now my big ass is trying to run down that cousin of yours before he gets himself in any more trouble.”