Rosemarie checked us in with the hostess and she showed us to the coat check area. It was then I really got a good look at everyone, and I wondered how we all existed on the same planet, much less in the same group.

My mother was wearing red harem pants and a matching top with sheer sleeves. Her hair was piled up on top of her head and giant gold earrings dangled from her ears. My sister was in her standard torn jeans and she wore a crazy top that had a lot of zippers and angles, and managed to look incredibly sexy at the same time.

Then there was Lucy. She stood off to the side, apart from the group, and she was scanning the crowd. She wore black leather pants—the real kind—and I had a feeling there was no stretch in them like mine. She also wore a black leather top that zipped up the back. I wondered who zipped it for her. Maybe she was married. Maybe she lived in a coven. I had absolutely no idea. But I was willing to bet she was carrying at least six different weapons.

Kate was dressed like Kate always dressed. She wore the black slacks she’d had on in court and a pinstriped, button-up blouse. Her only effort to look more relaxed was that she wasn’t wearing the matching suit coat. Then there was Scarlet with her Sharon Osbourne hair and a white jumpsuit with a rhinestone belt hanging low on her hips. The look might have looked sexy on someone sixty years younger who didn’t have the body of a soup chicken, but she looked like a cross between old Elvis and Evel Knievel.

Rosemarie was always a wildcard. She liked to dress for specific occasions, and I guess since we were at Bucking Bronco’s, she figured slutty cowgirl was the way to go. All I could think was that she must be freezing in her rhinestone boots. She wore a mini denim skirt that barely covered her backside, and a halter top made of western plaid with the little pearl buttons up the front. Only Rosemarie was generous in the bosom area, so her buttons weren’t buttoned.

“Good Lord,” Scarlet said, looking at Rosemarie. “I didn’t know it was a full moon tonight.”

The hostess came back to us and looked a little wild-eyed as she tried to figure out who was best to make eye contact with. And then she told us to follow her. The music was louder, and the place smelled of beer, sweat, and meat. I swallowed and tried to breathe through my mouth, but sweat broke out on my forehead. I was hoping it didn’t cause streams of makeup to pour from my face.

“We’re VIPs,” my mother said excitedly, clapping her hands.

“And we’re right by the Bucking Bronco,” Scarlet said. “I’ve been known to go eight seconds a time or two in my day. How do you think my fourth husband died?”

Our VIP section was cordoned off with a red velvet rope and it was right in front of the stage. The stage was divided into three sections and big red curtains were down over each one, so no one could see what was going on behind the scenes. Muscled waiters wearing Wranglers, no shirts, and cowboy hats carried trays filled with beer and steaks.

I felt the gorge rise in my throat again and swallowed rapidly. Our table was shaped like a horseshoe so none of the chairs had their backs to the stage. Before I knew what was happening a sash was put over my head and Rosemarie was pinning a tiara to my head. They put me right in the center of the horseshoe.

I didn’t like surprises. I liked being in control. I also liked things that smelled good and cleanliness, but I was overruled. Before I knew what was happening shots were brought to the table and I watched in fascination as everyone did the first one, just to take the edge off. Even Lucy. I was guessing Rosemarie forgot she was going to be the designated chauffeur because she did her shot and then ordered another round.

It wasn’t too long before I was sitting at the table by myself with a glass of water and a pounding headache. Scarlet had disappeared, and I had a feeling she was sizing up the bouncer. And Rosemarie was riding the Bronco like she’d been doing it her whole life. And everyone was getting a free show because straddling a bronco in a tiny denim skirt doesn’t leave a lot of room for modesty.

My phone buzzed and I picked up on the first ring when I saw it was Savage.

“Please tell me you need me for something,” I said.

“That sounds like a trap,” he said. “Is the wedding still on?”

“I’m at my bachelorette party.”

“That explains all the ‘yee-haws’ I’m hearing in the background.”

“It’s hard to explain,” I said.

“It almost always is with you. I’m heading to Whiskey Bayou tomorrow. Want to go with me?”

“I’m assuming it’s not just a casual visit because you love the area,” I said.

“I need to ask Pastor Charles some questions. I figured it’s better to surprise him than give him a heads-up his cover’s been blown.”

“Sure, my calendar is clear in the morning.”

The lights started flashing over the stage areas, and the curtains on the smaller stage on the right opened up, revealing the band.

“Wooooooooooo!” Rosemarie yelled right next to my ear. She’d snuck up on me. “That’s them,” she said, whacking me on the shoulder. “That’s your wedding band!”

“Don’t you dare laugh,” I told Savage. I put a finger in my other ear so I could hear him.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at the office.”

I hung up the phone and looked up at Rosemarie. She was still on her feet cheering on the band and my mother was on the other side of her.

“I didn’t think you were ever getting off that bronco,” I told her.

“Me either,” she said. She’d picked up a pink cowboy hat somewhere along the way and she scooted it back so she could see me better. “My thighs kept sticking to the saddle and I couldn’t get off. They had to bring over some talcum powder from the pool table and throw it between my legs. It looks like I’ve been snorting cocaine through my vagina down there.”

I willed myself not to look, but I was sitting almost at eye level. She was right. There was a lot of powder on those thighs. It was about that time that the band went into a raucous version of “Bump and Grind” by R. Kelly, and the curtains hiding the other two stages opened to screams all around the room.

A line of men wearing nothing but chaps and cowboy hats walked onto the stage and began to dance. Rosemarie was screaming and pounding on my shoulder, and my mother was standing on a chair. All the waiters who’d been delivering drinks had put down their trays and now they were dancing in the aisles.

“I’m really impressed by the choreography,” Kate said, taking the seat beside me.

“That’s what you’re impressed by?” I asked.

Her shirt was mussed and unbuttoned and she had the glassy-eyed stare of someone who’d had too much to drink. I goggled as she took another shot of tequila that was on the table and then sucked on a lime.

“What’s going on?” I asked, nudging her as she shoved some dollar bills into our dancing waiter’s jockstrap.

“I’m thinking about selling the agency,” she said.

I sat up straight at this bit of news and tried to wave away the gyrating flesh that was entirely too close to my face, but he was persistent since Kate was still holding money in her hand.

I grabbed it from her and shoved it into his pants and said, “Go away.” And he shrugged and moved on to the next table of women.

“What do you mean you’re thinking of selling? I thought you loved the agency.”

Kate shrugged and slugged down another shot of tequila. “I’m just tired of it all. I built it up and it’s all mine. And don’t get me wrong, the money is nice. But I’m not sure it’s worth dealing with the bullshit. Like this trial this week. These complete scumbags get on the stand and try to shred my reputation, and they don’t care. They’re scumbags. And that’s who we deal with. Every day. All day. It’ll never change.”

“Well,” I said. “It’s not like that’s a surprise. That’s why people hire us. To catch the scumbags red-handed.”

“I think I just need a change of pace. A change of scenery. Everything is under a lot of strain. And I mean everything.”

A few months back Kate had discovered her husband, Mike, had a gambling addiction. From what I could tell, they’d both been working on their marriage, but Kate was pretty closed-lipped about her personal life. Even with me.

“What does your gut tell you?” I asked.

She took a deep breath and then let it out and said in a rush, “That if our marriage is going to survive then we need a change. I need to sell the agency. Mike needs to transfer to another department or retire altogether. And we need to leave here and start over.”

It felt like I’d been kicked in the gut. Kate had been my best friend since we were in diapers. I’d never known a life without her in it.

“What does Mike say?” I asked.

She sniffled and I could see tears gather in the corners of her eyes. Kate never cried. “He says he’ll do whatever it takes to make it work.”

“Then that’s what you’ve got to do,” I said. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears when Kate started crying. I was a sympathetic crier. We hugged each other and cried through at least two of the numbers.

“The band is pretty good,” Kate finally said.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I wonder if the strippers come with them? I’m not sure Whiskey Bayou is ready for that kind of reception.”

“If you’re going to go out,” she said, “go out with a bang. Kind of like Scarlet did when she was shipped off to France. No one has ever forgotten her.”

Boy, was that the truth.

“We have a good tribe,” I said. “Weird. But good. Where’s Lucy? I was surprised to see her with us.”

“She’s probably checking on some things. She owns this place. It’s how we got the VIP seats.”

My mouth dropped open. “Someday you’re going to have to tell me about Lucy.”

“Not much to tell,” Kate said. “She’s worked for me almost since the beginning. Savage introduced us.”

“You’ve known Savage that long? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I? We worked together from time to time. It wasn’t a big deal. And he never seemed like your type. Besides, he and Lucy were dating at the time. That would’ve been weird.”

“What?” I asked. I felt like I’d just fallen into the rabbit hole. “How could I not know these things?”

“There’s probably a lot you don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “How am I supposed to know what you do and don’t know?”

“How did she and Savage meet?”

“How am I supposed to know? I’ve never asked them. I assume they met on the job.”

“Aha!” I said. “I knew she wasn’t just a secretary.”

“Of course not,” Kate said. “Why would I hire just a secretary? She speaks five languages and she handles our more delicate international cases.”

“Huh,” I said. “Who knew?”

“Well, I did,” Kate said. “I hired her. She’s my first choice as a buyer for the agency.”

“Why’d she come to work for you?”

“Because I pay her a hell of a lot more money than she ever made working for the government. Lucy’s quite the entrepreneur. She’s got businesses like this all over Georgia.”

I was speechless. Well, almost speechless. “No wonder Savage wouldn’t answer me when I asked if he’d ever had a long-term girlfriend.”

“I don’t mean to change the subject,” Kate said. “But you should probably see to Scarlet. It’d be embarrassing if Lucy had to ban us from this place.”

“I can’t see us spending a lot of time here,” I said. “But you’re probably right.”

I watched as Scarlet shoved a woman off a table and climbed up in her place. She was impossible to miss in the white Elvis suit and red wig. Scarlet started to dance and wave her money in the air. And she was just about to step onto the stage when the woman she’d knocked over hopped up from the floor and reached for Scarlet.

“That’s my cue,” I said, coming to my feet. But it was too late. I got there just in time to see the red wig flying onto the stage. One of the dancers stepped on it and screamed at a decibel level that would’ve made dogs cry. It was pretty much chaos after that.