The Dirty Martini was a typical Bourbon Street bar tucked on the far, bad end of the French Quarter. The wood paneled front was painted purple and was topped with a neon martini glass in which swam the words "Girls! Girls! Girls!" and two large olives that looked suspiciously like generous breasts. It was sleaze with a capital S. Dumont LaTourne, the man of fine Southern tastes, Confederate antiques, good suits, and a pretentious accent, financed his Civil war museum with sex and booze.

Bubba and Hart drove Cay and Eliah over to the Dirty Martini, not even bothering to blindfold them but keeping the prisoners' hands tied tightly.

"You don't think we have to kill them, do you?" Bubba asked Hart who was driving. As if the "them" he was referring to weren't able to listen.

"I hope not. That Mo guy fell when we roughed him up. He wasn't supposed to die."

"Well, that knife you put in his belly didn't help any."

" Doesn't matter. I ain't killing no girl. LaTourne can do his own dirty work." Hart grumbled.

"Speaking of girls," Bubba said. "I hope Smokey La Belle is dancing tonight. She's hot."

"Man, she doesn't even give you the time of day!" Hart laughed.

"Best part of this job is the bar tab at the Martini," Bubba snorted. Then he remembered his captives in the back seat and shut up.

Hart pulled into the back alley of the bar and parked it by the back door. They roughly pulled Cay and Eliah out of the back seat and pushed them through the back door, down a dank, smelly hallway and shoved them into dark room in the back. The place smelled like dirty socks, stale cigarettes, spilled beer and sweat. All around them were boxes of liquor and old discarded stripper outfits with broken feathers and missing sequins.

"Make yourself at home, girls." Hart shoved them both in the corner on a pile of boxes, their hands still tied. "Bubba, lace these two together so they ain't going anywhere."

"If there's any trouble, you are going to regret it," Bubba said, enacting the gruffest voice he could as he tied their two hands together with duct tape, in front of them so they had to sit uncomfortable on the boxes in order not to cut off their circulation.

Bubba and Hart shut the dim light bulb off before easing the door shut. Cay could hear the latch of an outside lock slide across the door. She could also hear Bubba grunt, "C'mon. Smokey's dancing next. Let's get a good seat and a couple beers."

The street lights cast a bit of light through the cheap curtains and the blinking of the "Girls! Girls! Girls! reflected off the windows of the building across the alley. As her eyes got used to the dark, Cay could see that the room was filled with feather boas, sparkly outfits and unopened boxes of tequila and rum.

"You fit right in!" Cay whispered, nodding toward the headdress that still sat on Eliah's head..

"Cay, what the hell is going on? What was Dumont going on about diamonds and Grandpappy Fontaine and all his nonsense? Is he mad?"

Cay nodded. "No doubt he is crazy as they come, but he's right about the diamonds. Did you notice that the paint over the jewels was a different color?"

Eliah nodded.

Cay told her what Kristina had found out about the headdress and how they had accidentally discovered that the diamonds weren't in the seam of the headdress but were stoned right into the design itself.

"We figured if we made him think that the diamonds had been recently removed, he wouldn't look close at the rest of the headdress and maybe we would have a chance of saving both you and the headdress. The babies were kind of a joke because we couldn't find anything else at the time." Cay shifted uncomfortably and stretched her bruised jaw. "I think it worked. Well, kinda."

Despite her fear, a bemused smile crept across Eliah's face. "You know the Indian stuff was just something my dad did every year. I used to hear about the Moose Clubs and elk Clubs up North. Well, my dad belonged to the Indians. There was something so secret about it . My dad would always say that someday either me or my husband or sons would wear the headdress, but I just never understood what he thought was so great. I liked the parades and the music, and I always thought that he should get rid of this old thing, " She blew her breath up toward the headdress and sent a wave amongst the feathers, "and make a big one like the Golden Eagles or Creole Wild West."

"I don't know what Dumont's next move is going to be. By now I'm sure that Kristina has called Rufus. But I'm guessing we don't have much time. We have to think of a way to get out of here." Cay tried to rock herself up on her feet, tugging on Eliah as she looked around to see if anything was recognizable in the dark.

"Ow!" Eliah said, "Sorry. Bubba has us tied together pretty tight."

They could hear the dance music out front and the rhythmic roar of the crowd and the clink of glasses. Cay was starting to feel hopeless, starting to feel that they would soon be meeting the same fate as Mo, when she heard the slide of the latch. It was quiet and gentle, as if someone didn't want to be heard. She almost thought she was imagining things when Eliah whispered harshly, "Someone's coming in."

Cay tossed herself back on to the box next to Eliah, and pushed them both tightly in the corner. The door pushed open slowly and the light poured into the dark spot.

All the two captives could see was an outline of what was obvious a woman. A naked woman, at that.

The figure seem to hesitate and look around. Then it did its own whispering in a very thick Alabama accent. "Hellow? Is there anyone in hehre?"

Cay wasn't sure if she should answer. But seeing as she had no other hope except that Hart would change his mind about them both being "Mag scum", she decided to take a chance. "Please help us! Over here! In the corner! "

The light came on and both Cay and Eliah blinked.

She wasn't naked at all. She was a lovely woman in a tight fitting costume of a light brown color against her skin. She had pasties on her nipples and her sequined triangle barely covered her private area. She wore a large headdress of midnight blue feathers and carried a fan of matching color. She was an angel of mercy, but obviously a fallen one.

"I have a message to help you get out the back door." The Alabama accent spoke again. "Right here."

She retrieved a note from her whisper of a bikini and held it out to Cay. Cay laughed in spite of herself.

"Listen darling, why don't you read it to me? I'm a little tied up right now."

The young woman visibly blushed, which Cay found endearing coming from a woman who took her clothes off every night. "I'm so sorry. I'm rather a mess. Here, let me find a scissors or something." She rummaged through the desk drawer and located a box knife. She carefully cut the duct tape that was binding Cay's hand. Then she worked on Eliah, who kept staring at her.

"You look familiar."

"That's 'cuz you know Emmer. I'm Emmer's little sister. We look a lot alike, though I was just a tad when last you saw me. My name is Smokey." Her Southern background of politeness overran her sense of urgency and she extended her hand to Eliah. "Well, it's really Amanda. Smokey is just my stage name. Pleased to meet you again."

"Who is Emmer?" Cay asked.

"Emmer used to be in the Yellow Magnolias," Eliah said in a very quiet and controlled voice. "He knew my father. He was the nephew of Pops Jackson. Little Chief, they called him."

"And he's the man you have to thank for getting out of this mess," Smokey added. "It's embarrassing to have your older brother stick a twenty in your panties, but I saw there was a note in it. He said in the note that there were two women in the back that I had to sneak out. He said you were in danger."

"How did he know we were here?" Cay asked.

She stood up, her sparkles glowing under the dim light. "He said don't ask questions, just do it fast. That tells me that you girls must be in real trouble. Quick, follow me out back."

They slipped down the hallways and headed toward the same door that they had slipped in, but as they gingerly opened the door, they saw a black Lincoln pulling up to the side walk.

"It's Dumont!" Smokey said and she pushed them back into the hallways. "Quick get back in the room."

They flew back into the room and Smokey started throwing boas, spangles and scarves at them. "He usually checks the bar till when he first gets in and then heads back here. He leaves his driver guarding the alley so he doesn't get robbed. Which means we have less than five minutes." She started tossing them clothes, feathers, and things that Cay had never seen before. "Take off your jeans and put something sparkly on. Cover up your face as much as you can. We are going to have to make a run for it through the bar. Maybe we can blend you all in with the other dancers and get you out of here without Dumont or his driver noticing."

Cay stripped her jeans off and wrapped herself in a skimpy skirt made of pink feathers and sequins. She clasped on a vest made of silver spangles and bits of conch shells and grabbed a sickly looking pink fan and a gossamer veil to cover up her face.

Eliah opted for a black spangly sheath that had several runs in the stretchy fabric. She grabbed a scraggly looking boa, and wound it around her neck to hide her face. "I think my headdress is festive enough."

"Quick," Smokey said urgently. "Emmer is out front. Just be confident, follow me and if some guy wants a lap dance, just tell him you're on break."

They tiptoed down the hallway, and emerged into the bar. The Dirty Martini nearing the end of its Happy Hour. Exotic dancers were on stage, bumping and grinding in various personas. Over in the corner, a woman dressed as Catwoman was accepting tips from a slightly inebriated Bubba. Hart sat next to him, leering. Trying to look relaxed and slightly bored, Smokey and her faux dancers were moving through the crowd fairly quickly.

Passing by the bar, one guy grabbed at Cay's veil and brought her up short. "Hey, I love redheads! How about a little couchy-coo for a twenty, girlie?"

"Later, sweetheart. I'm on break. Stick around and I'll do you for free. I'm on break."

His friends roared and the guy cheered.

Dumont was behind the bar pulling money out of the till and the cheering attracted his attention. Cay pushed away from the customer and tried to catch up to the others who were making progress toward the door. Dumont followed her path and spotted feathers and sparkles moving through the crowd. He recognized the ratty headdress floating above the crowd. Even the boa couldn't hide Eliah's face completely.

"Stop those girls!" He roared over the crowd. "Bubba! Hart! Where are you?"

Bubba and Hart were still flirting with Catwoman at the end of the bar, that's where they were. The roar of their employer's voice caused them to jump up and spill their beer.

"NOW!" Cay yelled. "Run for it!"

The crowd cheered at the spontaneous entertainment as three young women in various states of dress ran through the barroom being chased by an older man in a white suit and Panama hat. The two stooges of Bubba and Hart were not too far behind, trying to run and wipe themselves off at the same time.

The trio of feathered females pushed their way through the front door. On the other side, sitting watch in the entryway, a bald Latino man with huge muscles bursting through a tight tee shirt was startled off his stool.

Smokey pulled a twenty out of her bra and shoved it into the bouncer's hand.

"Carlos, just delay Dumont for a few seconds. Please, baby! I owe you."

Carlos nodded and moved into the pathway of the swinging door while the three women ran down the sidewalk. Just as Dumont came out of the nightclub, he ran smack into the back of Carlos. Bubba and Hart weren't too far behind, and the crowd inside the Martini was treated to a Three Stooges type show of the three piling out of the bar and then piling back in like an old movie tape being played backwards.

Meanwhile, Smokey led them around the corner. Cay pulled up short when she saw Emmer, standing by Dumont's black Lincoln. He was the man she had seen at the Bowling Alley and again at the Casino. And at Frank Montana's apartment.

"Wait! He works for LaTourne," she said, swinging out her arm to prevent Eliah from going any closer.

Smokey and Emmer stopped short. Eliah moved closer to Cay.

"You been stalking me since the beginning," Cay accused.

Emmer shook his head. "Big Chief Montana gave me the job of tailing you just in case you got into some trouble. Good thing for you, huh? I'm here, aren't I?"

Cay hesitated, not knowing what to believe.

"Listen, Pops Jackson is the old man at the store. He's my Uncle. And a Yellow Mag, too. He called me that day when you showed up to go through Mo's apartment because he knew I lost you and Eliah after that night in the cemetery. Damn it if I didn't almost lose you again with that shit driving Raynaldo was doing."

"Raynaldo? What does he have to do with it?" Eliah asked, her voice shaking.

"Ladies, we need to get in this car and go. I see trouble coming our way. Eliah, sit up front with me. " Emmer motioned them toward the Lincoln and opened the back door.

At that point Dumont, Bubba and Hart finally got passed Carlos at the door. Dumont pulled out a small revolver and pointed it at the group.

"Move it!" Emmer yelled and pushed Cay and Smokey in the back seat. A bullet richoted off the top of the car He slammed the door and threw himself into the passenger side of the front seat grabbing Eliah's arm and pulling her in after him. He slide over to the driver's seat, threw it in reverse, and after narrowly missing Hart, peeled out onto the narrow alley with a loud squeal.

In the back seat, Raynaldo sat, tied up with duct tape with a gag around his mouth.

"Had to take out Dumont's goon here," Emmer said, constantly looking in his rearview mirror. Then he shot a sympathetic glance at Eliah. "Sorry for the extra passenger."

Eliah took a long, hard look, then turned around and stared out the front window.

"Hang on, ladies." Emmer said tersely, stepping on the gas. "LaTourne is on our tail."

CHAPTER TWELVE: Injdians, Here They Come!

Copyright by Aileen M. McInnis, 2005. All Right Reserved.