The moment that Bonnie climbed out of the cab she could feel someone watching her. No doubt Kirk had taken her up on her previous offer of having someone keep an eye on her until he could find the evidence that he needed to arrest her. She tipped the driver and waited for him to pull away before looking around for the source of her discomfort. To her surprise, however, it wasn’t a squad car or even an unmarked police car that she saw two houses down, it was Kirk himself. As soon as she saw him he began crossing the street toward her, stomping his snake skin boots angrily with each swift stride.
“What are you doing -?” She started to ask, but he cut her off.
“How many are there Bonnie?” He demanded loudly, causing her to take a step back toward the sidewalk in front of her condo.
“Just Chet.” She promised.
“And what’s the story with him? You do have one right?”
“No. I love him.” She lied.
He stopped just short of the curb and she took another step away from him.
“You love him?”
The disbelief and accusation in his voice wasn’t surprising. She knew exactly how this looked from his perspective and, at the moment, there wasn’t a damn thing that she could do to fix it.
“Look, cheating wasn’t a crime the last time I checked and you know I didn’t kill Walter, I have an alibi.” She said quietly, not wanting to cause a scene.
“Another lie, you mean.”
“You talked to Russ, he confirmed it.” She argued.
“You’re right, I did talk to Russ … and he did confirm it, but that was before I realized you have some kind of mystical way with men.”
Her stomach quavered and she felt beads of sweat building on the back of her neck despite the cold.
“What do you mean?” She asked.
“I stuck around at the club tonight after your show; I had some time to kill while I waited for you to leave. I had a very interesting chat with a couple of the waitresses in the club and they told me that you weren’t dancing the night of Walter’s murder. In fact, they told me that you weren’t there the night before, or the night after his murder either! They said you had Missy fill in for you and they remembered it clearly because, as you said yourself, there was practically a riot when the men that were there to see you didn’t get what they wanted!”
He was shouting now and her face flushed when she noticed someone peeking out at them from one of the windows in the apartment complex across the street.
“Where were you Bonnie?” He demanded.
“What is wrong with you? You’re acting more like a jealous…”
She stopped as the truthfulness of what she’d been about to say sunk in. Although his method of checking up on her alibi was the mark of good police work, his behavior at the moment was more like that of a jilted lover than a professional homicide investigator.
“You stayed for the show.” She finished quietly, sagging with despair.
“Damn right, and it’s a good thing I did!” He confessed.
She deflated even more. She’d never intended to let him see her dance which is why she’d invited him to wait in the dressing room. ‘Dammit!’ She thought as she remembered the picture of his pregnant wife and unborn child on his desk. The men that she’d influenced had been lonely, horny old fishermen, lumberjacks, and construction workers. She’d been dishonest with them, alleviated their pockets of hard-earned cash, and led them on but she’d never hurt anyone before. Now Walter was dead and Kirk was a raging sack of angry hormones that would do anything she asked him too; anything except go back to loving his wife and family.
“Come inside and I’ll explain everything.” She said sadly. “We can’t stay out here causing a scene.”