Shotgun, Wedding, Bells

by Joanna Campbell Slan

  “Go, go, go,” whispered Susan in my ear.

  I hesitated. Candi had moved half-way down the stage. I could start to see faces. They were turned toward the curtain, expectantly. My heart fluttered in my chest and my mouth went dry.

  “This one's for Detweiler,” I whispered as I stepped out of the darkness and onto the stage.

  CHAPTER 71

  I let the music guide me. Over and over again, I told myself that I was all alone in my own kitchen. The image was a little hard to maintain, because the club smelled of sweat, fried foods, and men's cologne. But I reminded myself that I had people depending on me. If I didn't show a credible good effort, Susan might lose her job. If I didn't find the gunman, my kids and husband would be in danger.

  Harking back to my dance classes, I did my own version of a sexy jazz walk. Shoulders back. Hips jutted forward. Chin up in the air.

  The crowd did a collective gasp.

  I guess they weren't accustomed to seeing dancers with a baby bump the size of a Mini Cooper. But the gasp quickly turned to applause and then the whistles started. Next came the cheers. But I paid the crowd no attention, because I was busy concentrating on my strut.

  A few steps later, Candi did a body roll.

  Okay, I could do that. Only I added a shimmy to my body roll. Thanks to my pregnancy, I was able to put a lot of bounce into the action.

  The crowd went wild. I couldn't tell if it was for Candi or for me, but I didn't care.

  It was still hard to see, but I reminded myself that I needed to scan the crowd. I shaded my eyes and glanced around.

  A hand grabbed my ankle. I looked down. Bills were being waved in the air. Men were actually jockeying for the chance to give me money. No way was I going to let them touch me.

  “Pssst.” Susan hissed at me. “Grab the cash!”

  Instead of letting them stuff it in my clothes, I reached down and plucked it out of their hands.

  They didn't seem to mind! In fact, more men jumped up and waved bills at me. I bent down again—and realized I was giving them a good view of my newly expanded cleavage!

  Drat!

  I changed my bend to a dip, a sort of half-curtsey. The new action worked, plus it gave me the chance to get a good look at the men's faces. My hands were full of cash, and it kept coming. And coming. And coming.

  All of a sudden, I realized how exposed I was! The spotlight seemed to focus on me, bathing me in light.

  What if the shooter whipped out his gun and decided to take me down? But just as quickly, I remembered that I didn't look anything like Kiki Lowenstein. Not even close.

  Candi grabbed a handrail and swung herself up and onto a raised platform with a pole in the middle. Hanging onto the pole for balance, she leaned into a nearly perfect backbend. While she was performing, I had no choice but to stand in place.

  To keep things going, I did a little side-to-side shimmy with a shoulder pop. That brought down the house. Voices yelled out, “Way to go, bay-bee!”

  It was just the sort of encouragement I needed.

  More and more hands shoved money toward me. In desperation, I stuffed it into my bathing suit.

  Candi climbed down from the spotlight platform. The announcer said, “Let's hear it for Candi!” and polite applause followed.

  I was up next. Slowly, I continued my jazz strut. Grasping the railing, I hoisted myself onto the platform. That wasn't easy because I had so much weight to lift. Once up on the tiny stage, I realized the girls had been right—I'd found the perfect vantage point. The tiny raised area gave me a 360-degree view of the club.

  The spotlight nearly blinded me, but I couldn't shade my eyes and stare. That would just be too obvious. Instead, I grabbed the pole and leaned backwards like Candi had done. The crowd roared its approval. I took my time with my head hanging upside down, but I still didn't see my shooter. I straightened up and did a backbend in the opposite direction. Ever so slowly, I let my head drop. Fortunately, I was warmed up now and my muscles were more flexible. Lower and lower I went, balancing my need to look around against my body's ability to bend. I thought my back would snap as I scanned the crowd.

  “Let’s hear it for Kinky!” said the announcer.

  Kinky?

  A loud bass note caused the stage to vibrate. It raced up and down my body. I enjoyed the thrill of it. I closed my eyes and wagged my head slowly from left to right, letting the ponytail flip this way and that.

  Suddenly, I caught a whiff of a familiar fragrance.

  I snapped upright, stopped dancing, shaded my eyes, and stared out into the crowd.

  “Cigar! Ten o'clock!” I screamed.

  And pandemonium ensued.

  CHAPTER 72

  Brawny and Johnny hurdled themselves at a cigar smoking man to the left of the stage. Lucerne and Peevey abandoned their posts and raced over to help. The music kept blaring. Heads turned to watch the commotion, but most of the eyes stayed riveted on me.

  “Kinky! Kinky! Kinky!” Voices started to chant.

  Susan made tiny shooing motions with her hands. I thought she was signaling me to keep moving. If I didn't, the other girls wouldn't get their turns on the stage. But I was torn because I also desperately wanted to make sure that Johnny and Brawny had taken down the bad guy. As it was, I could see a minor scuffle happening. Fortunately, the crowd seemed to be mesmerized by our performance.

  Scratch that.

  By my performance.

  My thoughts weren't based on egotism. I presented a novelty, that's all. As the music changed, to the thrumming beats of my favorite dance tune, Don't Cha by the Pussycat Dolls. The lyrics were so appropriate that I threw back my head and laughed.

  That really got the crowd going. Again the chant started, “Kinky! Kinky! Kinky!”

  Candi was prancing around in one place, blocking me from moving forward. I compromised by doing another slow shimmy and went back to my strut, this time taking tiny steps so I would move, but not go far.

  Candi hesitated at the end of the stage, shaking her investment portfolio. I figured she planned to wave goodbye to the crowd. Instead, she reached behind her neck…and dropped her top.

  My jaw fell open, and then snapped shut.

  What had I expected?

  This was, after all, a strip joint. Fists full of money waved in her direction. Stepping over her discarded halter, she collected the cash calmly, stuffing it into her G-string.

  Meanwhile, other customers were franticly waving bills at me. Susan hissed, “Kiki, quick. Grab all this loot!”

  I did my little half squat, which gave me the chance to watch as Brawny collared my attacker. Johnny winked and gave me a thumbs-up.

  My heart soared with joy!

  A half-ton of worries was lifted from my shoulders!

  I couldn't help it. I broke into a little “happy dance.”

  Who cared if they thought I was a pervert?

  We'd taken down the shooter! Whoo-hoo!

  Detweiler and my children were safe!

  A few more minutes of dancing and I could blow this popcorn stand. This whole evening would be a memory, one that I could easily forget. My husband would be able to come home from the hospital—and finally we could live happily ever after.

  I lost the last of my inhibitions and thoroughly enjoyed myself, dancing like nobody's business.

  When I opened my eyes, all I could see was green.

  “Holy cow!” Tunisia was right up in my ear. “Kiki, grab that as fast as you can! The others are stuck behind us.”

  The announcer's voice boomed overhead. “Let's hear it for Kinky! Show her a little love, folks!”

  I paused to wave at the people who'd made me feel so welcome. They screamed and stamped their feet.

  “Kinky! Kinky! Kinky!” The crowd roared its approval.

  That made me giggle. After blowing them kisses, I scooted off the stage.

  “Oh, my gosh! You did great!” Candi, who was now wrapped up in a satin robe. She threw her arms around me a
nd gave me a huge hug. To my surprise, I learned that artificially enhanced boobs are hard as rocks. But that didn't matter. I was caught up in the moment.

  Next to Candi was a pile of cash, looking curiously like a big lettuce salad. “You've got money hanging out all over. Let's see how much you made.”

  I pulled it out of my clothes. “You count it while I change.”

  “You're changing? You aren't going out again?”

  “Brawny and Johnny found the shooter! Didn't you see? They pounced on him and dragged him off.”

  “Nope. Stuff like that happens all the time. Just another day in the neighborhood.” Candi organized the bills by denomination.

  I stepped into the bathroom, peeled off the bathing suit, splashed water on my face, and changed back into my street clothes. “I need help removing this hairpiece,” I said, as I pushed past the costume racks. Candi, Tunisia, and Susan were all waiting for me. Susan waved a thick stack of bills in my direction. “Kiki, you made $2,456! That's the most of any of us have ever made for one dance!”

  “It's all yours.”

  “Seriously?” Candi blinked at me in surprise.

  All activity in the back room had come to a halt. The dancers were staring at me. My heart went out to them. Whatever I'd thought earlier, I now had a new respect for them. They were good-hearted women, working their butts off to make a living in a tough, tough world.

  And they'd accepted me, prepped me, and helped me out when I was facing a huge problem all alone. Tears prickled behind my eyes. Susan rushed over to hug me. She grabbed a tissue from a nearby box and handed it over. “Kiki, you earned that money. You can really, really dance, girlfriend.”

  I shook my head. “We earned that money. I couldn't have done it without the help of each and every one of you. Thanks to all of you, my family is safe. That cash is yours. What you've done for me tonight, well, it's priceless.”

  CHAPTER 73

  The water hadn't done much to remove my makeup. I should have guessed it was impervious to moisture. Otherwise, it would slide right off the girls' faces when they performed. I decided that I didn't care. I was ready to go home. I handed my costume back to Tunisia, offering first to wash it.

  “Girl, it's yours. You bought and paid for it several times over. Besides,” and she winked, “you might want to show your husband some of those super-hot moves.”

  We all laughed at that. A respectful rap at the dressing room door cut our merriment short. Candi opened it and a disembodied hand offered up my cape. As usual Johnny was taking good care of me. I should have guessed Susan would have given him the security code.

  In the pocket was a message: Waiting out back. With Dee-Lite-Full's help, I bundled up while Foxee put my bathing suit in a plastic bag. Tunisia unhooked the hairpiece. In short order, I was ready to leave. I gave all the women hugs and told them to call me so we could set up a special class just for them at Time in a Bottle.

  With misty eyes, I left my new friends. They still had a long night ahead of them.

  Susan walked me to the outside exit. I frowned, thinking about the fire code. Her smile was sad. “We live on the margins of the law, Kiki. People don't care much about strippers.”

  “Dancers,” I corrected her.

  “You have a good heart.” She hugged me and gave me a little shove out of the building. As the heavy door slammed behind me, I blew out a long sigh.

  Johnny helped me into his truck. The vehicle was warm and toasty as I slid from the driver's side to the middle. Brawny wore a look of pure admiration. “You did a fabulous job up there. I was amazed.”

  “I knew she could do it,” said Johnny. “I've seen a sample of her skills.”

  I gave him a tiny arm punch. “Shh. That's our secret. Where's the shooter?”

  “He's long gone by now.” Johnny turned us around in the parking lot. “Probably halfway to Alabama.”

  “But we need information! What if he tries something again?”

  Johnny threaded his truck between the rows of parked cars. The lights from the highway beckoned us home.

  “He won't.” Brawny sounded confident.

  Too confident.

  “How do you know that?” I felt panic rising. We'd gone through all this, and I'd made a fool of myself, for what?

  Then it came to me. “He's dead, isn't he?”

  “No.” Johnny shook his head. “No, he's not. But Brawny was right. He's a professional.”

  “How do we deal with someone like that? Shouldn't he be locked up? Prosecuted? We can't just let him go free! What if he tries something again? We aren't safe!” I heard my voice. I knew I sounded hysterical, and I was.

  Johnny patted my knee. “Settle down, girl. Brawny's got it under control.”

  The truck moved under a streetlight, and I noticed a red smear on the back of Brawny's hand. Could it be blood?

  I felt sick. “You're keeping something from me. You didn't kill him did you?”

  “No,” said Brawny. “That was unnecessary.”

  “Then what did you do? Look, I won't stop asking questions, and I have a right to know.”

  The night crowded us, but the neon signage of convenience stores and the bright halos from local hotels kept the world glowing around us. Johnny stopped at a red light. Ahead were the red, white, and blue signs directing us to 270. He couldn't make a U-turn. Instead, he would have to take us down 270 and cut back over to Lindbergh. We had plenty of time to talk. Johnny and Brawny could stonewall all they wanted, but I had the right to hear what happened. I would not rest until I did.

  And I said as much.

  “You don't need to know how I encouraged him to talk.” Brawny's tone was gentle. “Just know that I got what we needed from him. When he told us how much he was being paid, I doubled his fee. I explained that his employer would no longer be needing his services. I could guarantee that.”

  The adrenaline of my adventure was wearing off. I'd really exerted myself, and now I was starting to feel bone-deep tiredness creep up on me. I tried to make sense of what she was saying, but I couldn't. There was a message there. Partially obscured, but important nonetheless.

  For once, the weather forecasts had been accurate. Snow was coming down in fat, fluffy flakes. This all seemed like a dream, a weird, surreal dream.

  Brawny took note of the changing weather conditions, too. “This will turn to sleet in about an hour.”

  All right, so that's how it was going to be.

  I squared my shoulders. “Look, I want to know what happened, and I expect you two to tell me.”

  The truck hummed along, gobbling up the pavement. Johnny reached over and took my hand. “See, a man like that does what he's paid to do. It was nothing personal. So Brawny doubled his salary. She explained that his employer is out of business. Or will be. That's it, that's all.”

  Brawny nodded. “He's never gotten caught before. This was a huge failure on his part.”

  “What else did he tell you?” I fought exhaustion, but I still wanted to know. “Is my husband safe?”

  “He was always safe.” Brawny spoke so quietly that I could barely hear her. Johnny exited at Page Avenue, so we could head south again.

  My tiredness made me irritable. “What do you mean?”

  I wanted to reach over and shake Brawny. We'd gone through so much to get to this point. Here she was, talking in riddles. I gritted my teeth. However long it took, I was going to get a straight answer out of her.

  “I want to know what you two know—and I want to know it now. In fact, I demand that you tell me!”

  Johnny said nothing. The quiet lasted an eternity. Finally, Brawny spoke up. “That's the point. He wasn't shooting at you. Or Detweiler. Or Hadcho.”

  “Quit playing games and tell me, Brawny. I have a right to know! If he wasn't trying to shoot me or Detweiler or Hadcho, who was he trying to kill? Was he after me? Was it Leighton? Or Lorraine? Or you? Who was it?”

  “Erik,” she said, with a hitch in her voice. “He was
trying to kill Erik.”

  CHAPTER 74

  “Erik?” I shook my head. “Are you joking with me?”

  “Lorraine will explain everything to you tomorrow,” Brawny said.

  “Yeah. Sure. Right.” I was so angry I wanted to slap Brawny up the side of the face. Instead, I text-messaged Laurel to say that we were on our way. Brawny would take over for her and Joe, while I checked on Detweiler.

  Laurel messaged me back: We've had a blast!

  I would have to come up with some way to thank her and Joe.

  “Johnny? After you take Brawny to the house, please drop me off at the hospital.” I planned to sleep in the recliner in Detweiler's room. If that proved too difficult, or if the duty nurse wouldn't let me sneak in, I'd sleep in the family lounge. Either way, I needed to talk to my husband. Maybe he could figure out what was really happening.

  “Sure thing.” Johnny was doing his best to sound upbeat, but I was too hacked off to care.

  Lindbergh was practically deserted. Salt trucks vied with us for lanes on the road. In short order, we arrived at the house. A new blanket of snow gently rested on all the surfaces. The streetlight lit the inside of the truck. As Brawny climbed out, I noticed a wet spot on her sleeve. I touched it.

  My finger came away bloody. “Brawny, you've got blood on your hand and your sleeve both. Are you hurt?”

  “No. I'm as right as rain. Glad to have all that behind us. The children will be fine.” She paused and studied my face. “We'll all be fine now. I know you are angry with me, and I canna do much about that. I'll tell you this: We accomplished what we set out to do tonight. We've solved the problem. If you have ever trusted me, trust me on this.”

  With that, my nanny shut the truck door and headed for the house.

  “I have no idea what she's talking about,” I turned to Johnny. “Do you?”

  “Nope.” He pulled out of our circular drive. “But I will tell you this, that woman is a professional. If she's not worried, you shouldn't be.”