by B. C. Sirrom
THREE
“Hey BonBon.” Russ called softly through her dressing room door, drawing her from deep contemplation.
She shot a glance at the clock, relieved to see that it was only seven-thirty; she still had a good half-hour before her show started.
“C’min!” She called back, adjusting her robe.
The door opened a crack and Russ poked his head through. “That Detective Kirk guy is here to see you.” He whispered.
Bonnie nodded – she’d been expecting this. It had been over twenty-four hours since she’d met with Detective Kirk in his office and she hadn’t heard from him. She wanted to be relieved by that but, considering he’d been about to leave for Dutch Harbor the last time they spoke, she’d assumed he would have returned with more questions for her about Geoff … questions that she’d spent the last day-and-a-half inventing answers for.
“Send him in.” She said, reaching across the makeup counter to toy with the jet-black wig that she would be wearing in her show tonight. She had a whole collection of wigs in various lengths and colors but this one was her personal favorite.
A moment later the door opened again and Detective Kirk entered her dressing room, followed by Russ. The bouncer took up stance by the door, closing it behind him and folding his arms across his chest protectively as Bonnie motioned Kirk toward one of the other chairs in the room. He opted to stand, however, and from the look on his face, Bonnie was going to need those answers that she’d come up with.
“How was Dutch Harbor?” She asked, before he could speak.
“It must be convenient having two fiancés living under the same roof so far away.” He shot back, ignoring her question.
She sighed and motioned for Russ to leave them alone. The massive bouncer slipped out and, once he’d closed the door behind him, Bonnie offered once more for Detective Kirk to have a seat but, again, he declined.
“Geoff and I are not, nor have we ever been engaged.” She said frankly.
“Well you might want to make sure he knows that because he seems to think otherwise.”
“When I introduced Geoff to Walter we explained the truth to him about our engagement. I thought that if Walter was going to be living under the same roof as Geoff’s grandson he should know about Walter’s … preferences.”
This was, of course, only a partial truth. Bonnie had given Geoff the explanation about the engagement behind Walter’s back. In truth, Walter hadn’t actually been gay but she’d convinced Geoff not to mention it to Walter because it was a sensitive subject, so neither man had ever been the wiser. Now she needed Kirk to believe that same lie.
“So if Geoff knew that Walter was gay it made you free to be engaged twice.” He accused, much closer to the truth than she wanted him to be.
“No.” She lied. “When we told Geoff that I was only pretending to be engaged to Walter he made the joke that I should pretend to be engaged to him too so that he could brag about it to all of his buddies down at the bar in Dutch Harbor. It was just a joke, but it kind of stuck.”
It was a lousy explanation and the doubt in Kirk’s expression proved that he wasn’t buying it.
“Why else would Walter have put up with it?” She asked, hoping to add credence to the story.
“Geoff said you visit Dutch Harbor sometimes. What exactly do you do when you’re there?” His question held a kaleidoscope of accusations and Bonnie’s stomach turned at the mental image of having a three-way with Geoff and Walter.
“We hang out, that’s all. The four of us go down to the bar and drink duck farts and then argue over which one of us has to pay for the cab.”
His left eyebrow peaked. “The four of you?” He asked.
She nodded innocently. “Yeah; myself, Walter, Geoff, and Todd.”
“Todd as in Geoff’s grandson?”
“Yeah he’s twenty-two years old. It’s perfectly legal Detective.”
“And how old are you?”
“Twenty-nine.” In truth, Bonnie was over four-hundred years old but when she’d first moved to Alaska she’d put her age on her fake ID as eighteen so that she could capitalize on the market for ‘barely legal’ strippers. Staying in one town for ten years meant that she’d had to celebrate her birthdays accordingly.
“Have you ever … been engaged to Todd?” He asked carefully.
“If you mean have I ever had sex with Todd the answer is no.”
Her words, both truthful and firm, resounded in the tiny room. She hadn’t intended to raise her voice but from her perspective Walter, at forty-eight years old, was a child compared to her, making Todd the immortality-equivalent of an infant. She might not have moral standards when it came to bilking men out of their money but she’d never looked at Todd as anything more than a drinking buddy.
The knock on her door was a welcome interruption this time and she looked up eagerly expecting to see Russ telling her that it was almost time for her to go on stage. To her disappointment, however, a different familiar face appeared. Chet was a lumberjack who would disappear for months at-a-time to work the hard trails in the upper canyons. He stood well over six-feet and had the broad shoulders and massive arms to match. His physique was handsome but his face left something to be desired with weathered wrinkles around his eyes and a large gap between his two front teeth. He was always filthy and stunk of body odor but logging was a lucrative business and his pockets were deeper than both Geoff and Walter’s combined. In an instant Chet’s expression changed from glee at seeing Bonnie again to jealousy and rage as he charged across the room in two enormous strides and pinned Kirk against a wall of lockers.
“Who the hell are you?” He demanded, bracing his forearm under Kirk’s chin.
“Chet stop it!” Bonnie demanded jumping from her chair.
An instant later Russ entered, filling the last of the small space with his three-hundred pounds and separated the two men effortlessly.
“I’m a homicide detective, who the hell are you?” Kirk said, adjusting his collar with one hand and flashing his badge with the other.
“I’m Bonnie’s fiancé. Homicide? Who died?” He looked first at Bonnie and then back at Detective Kirk with an expression of confusion.
“One of my customers, Chet. It’s ok; he’s just asking me some questions. Why don’t you go back out and I’ll see you after the show ok? I promise.”
Despite his rough exterior and even more volatile personality Chet trusted Bonnie, and Russ, so he didn’t put up a fight when the bouncer took his elbow and started leading him toward the door.
“You’re on in five BonBon.” Russ added over his shoulder as they left.
Bonnie’s stomach was turning now as she glanced back at Kirk and saw that he was gaping at her with a mixture of suspicion and disbelief. Two fake fiancés had been hard for him to swallow but expecting him to believe in a third one was going to be out of the question.
“I’ll explain everything after the show but right now I’ve got to finish getting ready.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just arrest you right now!” He shouted.
“Keep your voice down! I’ll give you two! Because I was here the night Walter was murdered and you know it. And because you don’t have a shred of physical evidence that even suggests that I was involved. Now you’re welcome to wait for me in here if you want and we can continue this in a few minutes, but I have got to be on that stage or there’s going to be a riot out there.”
The crowd had started chanting “Freak Show” – an affectionate nickname for Bonnie – and she suspected that Chet had started it with some gentle persuasion from Russ. The bouncer poked his head back into the room without knocking this time and the expression on his face solidified her claims – she was expected and there would be a small crowd of angry, drunk men if she didn’t show.
“I’m leaving, but I had better see you in my office first thing tomorrow morning or I will get a warrant.” Kirk threatened, jam
ming a pointed finger into the space between them.
“I’ll be there.” She promised.
“I’ll walk him to the door.” Russ offered, following Kirk out and closing the door behind him.
