[center][h1][color=8882be]Ashley Gallagher[/color][/h1][/center]
[center][h2][color=8882be]Club Carousel[/color][/h2][/center]

[i]"Sounds like we're going to have to question this 'Danielle Raymonde', Detective Gallagher. I know, I know...Popping your Hollywood-leading-lady-chat cherry isn't so attractive when it's done in police procedure. But take what you can get." 

"Shall we take my car?”[/i]

Ashley grumbled, gazing over the names in the ledger one last time before shoving his hands in his pockets. “Never heard of her, but if you insist.”

He thought on Cal’s car, and the idea of taking a spin in it was somewhat unappealing. He couldn’t hide the green under his collar at the thought of it— she was beautiful, and expensive, far more expensive than anything Ashley could afford. Nonetheless it beat taking Cal for a ride in his clunker. 
	
Ashley agreed mutely and headed for the door, only to be interrupted by a pair of eyes from across the club. Behind one of the large curtains curiously peered two hazel hues that met his briefly before disappearing into the depths of what he assumed was backstage. “Go on ahead, wait in the car.” He called over to Cal before taking long strides to where he’d seen the woman disappear.

He ducked behind the wings of the stage, revealing a set of rooms filled with costumes, mirrors, lights, and makeup. There was no one present, save for one lone figure seated at a vanity.

Trying not to spook the young woman, Ashley cleared his throat as he approached. Even still, a small, surprised shudder ran through her. “You’re not allowed to be back here.” She whispered softly.

“Gonna’ have to speak up dear, can hardly hear you.”

She said nothing, simply leaned forward as a shaky hand applied ruby red to her lips. He figured she was a dancer there, she was pretty. Dark, exotic features with long caramel hair. Her figure was draped and concealed by a robe, but it hinted at the easily desirable curves that would win her plenty of dough in this line of work.

“Going to be straight with you here,” He began roughly, “I’m here to investigate the murder, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, there somethin’ you can tell me?”

She snapped her lipstick shut with a sudden and sharp pop before turning to look at him. She offered a soft hand. “You may call me Pizazz.” 

These names. Ashley nodded nonetheless.

“Now I didn’t see anything suspicious that night, but I will tell you that my… colleague, Emerald, disappeared promptly afterwards. She didn’t show up for work today and that is incredibly uncharacteristic.”

Great. Useless.

“I will look into that, ma’am. But I wouldn’t worry too much, it seems everyones a little turned off from the club at this time.”

She made a face. “Yeah, but I know Emerald. If there’s trouble abound, she’s waist-deep in it. She acts ignorant, but nothin’ goes on in this club without her being in the know. If you’re looking for leads, she’s where you want to look.”

Ashley nodded slowly, digesting the information. “Right, thank you… Pizazz.”

He turned, steadily jogging to the entrance. 

Was Emerald hiding something?