FOR every breakthrough in this investigation there have been endless days and nights of frustration. This night is looking like another disappointment. The owner of Chicago Sizzle knows nothing. He’s never seen Strand or Logan or the person in the doctored photo of the male Logan. So, of course, he knows nothing about Strand’s girlfriend. Wilkins is sure he’s lying about some of it. Logan had to come in this place once in a while. It’s the hottest transgender bar in Chicago. He probably knew Strand, too. The man had an appetite for transsexuals and this was the place to find them. But Wilkins has no leverage on the guy, no way to make him talk. So he moves on. He shows the photos to the bartender, trying not to notice two guys at the end of the bar kissing each other. The bartender is no help. He wasn’t here five years ago and he’s never seen any of these people. Wilkins sighs and puts the photos away. “What about a tranny named Barbi? Barbi Dancer?” “You don’t want to be calling these ladies trannies,”
