“If I go in there, the regulars will recognize me and ask for something, or another waitress will see me and get pissed because I’ve missed the last four days, or a floor manager will see me and give me shit for not being in uniform while in the club. Trust me – there’s a reason why I never go into work when I’m not actually working. Besides, it’ll look weird if I’m here on my day off, wandering around, asking everyone questions. This way, I can move around freely, have a reason to be talking to everyone. Just a chick at work, being friendly and chatty.”
“I’ll just go in alone. Act like a regular customer, say I’m asking about my buddy who’d lost his wallet,” he suggested.
“Yeah, but you can’t go into the back, not by yourself. And the dancers and waitresses won’t tell you anything, we get a lot of weirdos asking a lot of weird questions. You’ll just blend in.”
“Are you calling me a weirdo?”
“Yes. Yes I am. Now let’s get this over with and get my outfit.”
“Will it be okay?” he asked, glancing at the trunk. She nodded.
“It’s in a sealed plastic bag,” she said. “Under the tarp he’s on top of.”
“Why do you have a tarp in there, anyway?”
“To protect my shit from all the people I murder!” she hissed, hitting him in the stomach. “Why do you think? Because this car doesn’t seal for shit and when it rains, I have to cover the top!”
“You’ve become so violent lately,” he grumbled, rubbing at the spot she hit.
“Thanks to you. I probably have an ulcer now.”
Without warning, Archer reached out and hit the button to pop the trunk. Jo was unprepared for it. She gasped and turned away, squeezing her eyes shut tight. Scared she would smell it, she also covered her mouth and nose with her hand.
“Have you ever seen a dead body before?” Archer asked. She managed to shake her head.
“No, not until this morning,” she said. There was a pause, then his hand was on her shoulder, squeezing.
“Okay. It’s okay. It doesn’t really smell, not much,” he assured her. “Want me to get your stuff?”
“Yes,” she sighed in relief. “Yes, please. It should be on the left somewhere – a bunch of like gold lamé in a bag.”
There was some shuffling noise. A distinct thunk that if she had to guess what it was, it sounded like a foot hitting the bottom of the trunk. She gagged and put her other hand over her mouth, as well.
“Got it,” Archer said, and as soon as the trunk slammed shut, she turned around.
“Thank you,” she said, holding out her hand. He didn’t hand over the bag, though.
“It’s … it’s got blood on it,” he warned her. She grimaced, but took it from him anyway.
“Whatever, I’ll just …” her voice trailed off as some dots connected in her brain. She held up the bag and stared at it, at the smear of blood down the side.
“Just what?” Archer asked.
“Blood,” she said, glancing at her trunk. “He’s bleeding, that’s why he’s on that tarp. Whoever put him in there knew he was bleeding, that’s why they spread the tarp out and draped it over him.”
“Yeah … so?”
“You moved him – did you see how he was killed?” Jo asked. He frowned and rubbed at the back of his neck.
“He was shot, it looked like three times, right in the chest,” he replied. She laughed and dropped the bag, clapping her hands together.
“He was shot!” she shouted.
“Jesus, keep your fucking voice down! Why is that cause to celebrate?” he hissed.
“Because I don’t own a gun, Archer! I couldn’t have shot him!” she explained.
She took a deep breath. She had honestly been worried. Had thought maybe he’d gotten inappropriate with her and in her drunken state, she’d hulked out and broken his neck or something. But gun shots, those were a whole different ball game.
“That’s a good point,” he agreed, nodding his head. She couldn’t stop smiling as she picked her bag up off the ground.
“That takes a load off my mind. C’mon, let’s go ask around about this dude,” she sighed.
“Unless …”
She stopped in her tracks.
“Unless what?”
“Unless you shot him with his gun,” Archer pointed out.
Hopes. Crushed. Her smile fell away and she frowned up at him.
“Thank you, Archer Calhoun. Thank you for that. You really know how to make a girl feel good about herself,” she grumbled, then she turned and stormed off towards her job.
“Oh, c’mon, not this again,” he groaned, chasing after her. “I’m just trying to think of everything.”
“So you think I’m bad in bed, and a murderer,” she stated, yanking open the door and striding inside. A bouncer behind a glass partition glanced up and when he saw it was her, he nodded and hit a buzzer. An inner door popped open, allowing them to enter the club properly.
“Hey, I never said either of those things,” Archer told her.
“Oh, sorry. You implied them, my bad,” she snapped as she wound her way through the tables towards the back of the room.
“I can’t believe I’ve never been here before,” he mumbled, and when she glanced over her shoulder, it was to find him staring at the stripper who was on stage.
“Because I said you weren’t allowed, remember? Whoa, whoa, where do you think you’re going?” she asked, coming to a stop when he almost followed her into the back room.
“I thought this was an investigation. I go where you go,” he said, trying to step around her. She put a hand on his chest.
“Uh uh,” she said, shaking her head vehemently. “I’m not aiding and abetting your perviness. Just wait here, try not to be a dip shit. I’ll come find you when I’m changed.”
She didn’t give him the chance to argue or joke or be an idiot, she just turned and walked away.
A hallway led to a changing room, complete with mirrors rimmed in lights, and a long table covered in different make up products. Half naked women were everywhere, adjusting thongs, adding blush to nipples, gluing on pasties. Just a normal day at Bunny Love’s strip joint – conveniently located between Hal’s Steak Shack (now closed) and Boomer’s Auto Car Wash.
Jo smiled at a few people, made small talk about feeling better and picking up an extra shift to make up for her missed days. Then she hurried back to her employee locker and quickly changed. Once she had everything in place, she hurriedly pulled her hair up into a decent looking bun and grabbed someone’s red lipstick, smearing it over her lips. She glanced in the mirror and was happy to see she looked exactly like she did every other night she worked.
Most of the waitresses went all out on their looks – great hair and perfect makeup usually equaled bigger tips. But Jo hated her job, and hated the customers even more. She never wanted to give them more reasons to think they could touch her or perv over her, so she never put too much effort into her hair or makeup. That, combined with her bad attitude and the fact that Bunny Love’s wasn’t the most popular strip club, meant she made shit tips, but she didn’t care. She just couldn’t make herself do it, and especially not that night of all nights. So she called it good and grabbed an empty serving tray before heading onto the floor.
She came out on the other side of the stage, opposite of where she’d gone in, and looked around. She didn’t see Archer anywhere, but it wasn’t exactly easy. There were spotlights on the stage, but the rest of the club was almost entirely lit by red lights, and not a whole lot of them. Normally it didn’t bother her, she’d gotten used to the low visibility. But that particular day, it creeped her out. Made her think of murderers and stalkers. Had her wondering how many men had watched her from the shadows.
“Hey!” she called out, spying another waitress nearby. Michelle, one of the girls who had gone out with her the night before. Jo and her were pretty good friends, had been to each others houses.
“Hey, I didn’t know you were wo
rking today. How you feeling?” Michelle asked, clearing a table of empty glasses before turning to face her.
“Oh, good. Trying to make up for all that work I missed. So, last night was crazy, huh?” Jo jumped right into it.
“Yeah, it was!” Michelle laughed. “I had such a blast. I went home with this rich dude – he lived all the way out in Santa Monica and made me take an Uber back home at like four in the morning, but so worth it.”
“Sounds awesome,” Jo nodded her head. “You know, I met this guy there last night, it was so weird!”
“I saw you with him,” Michelle laughed.
“You did?”
“Yeah. Your hot neighbor, right? When I went to leave, you were outside climbing him like a jungle gym,” she told her. Jo gasped. Kiss – he’d said she’d kissed him. There had been no mention of climbing.
“Well, you know how I am when I drink,” Jo forced out a laugh.
“I don’t blame you, girl. I’ve been telling you to fuck him for like the past year. Was it hot? He looks like he has a big dick,” Michelle said.
“It’s amazing, we should make a mold of it,” Jo said through gritted teeth. “But you know, the night is kind of fuzzy. I met this other guy there, and he, uh, lost his wallet.”
That lie worked for Archer, maybe it’ll work for me.
“I hope it was full of fifties,” Michelle laughed, then started edging back towards the bar. Jo followed after her.
“Thing is – we got to talking because he’d been here before,” Jo babbled. She wasn’t a very good liar, they didn’t roll off her tongue like they did with Archer. “Here, to our club. He recognized us. I figured maybe one of you would recognize his name or something, so I can return the wallet.”
“Oh, you know how I am with names, sweetie. Try Jaylah, or when Candell is done with her set, ask her,” Michelle suggested, gesturing to the stripper that was now down to only a thong and a pair of very high heels.
“Okay. Thanks.”
Jo sighed and after Michelle walked away, she went to turn around. Instead, she bumped into someone standing right behind her. Courtesy of the dead body in her trunk, her paranoia was at an all time high, so she let out a growl and immediately started slapping at the person.
“It’s me!” Archer hissed, grabbing her wrists and holding them together.
“Fuck,” she gasped. “You scared me!”
“I was sitting at a table over there,” he said, letting her go. “I didn’t even realize it was you till I heard your voice. So you think we should make a mold of my dick, huh?”
“Oh god, fuck off, I was just trying to stop her, otherwise she would’ve babbled on about penises all night,” Jo growled. “Now can you actually be helpful and start asking around, as well?”
“Is this what you always wear?” he asked, ignoring her and frowning as he looked over her outfit. She glared and put her hands on her hips.
“No, I just thought it would be fun for today. Yes. Look around, all the girls are wearing this,” she instructed, gesturing around the bar. He didn’t look up, though. Just kept staring at her body.
“It’s very … shiny,” he finally said.
“I’m sorry you don’t like it, Archer, but it pays the bills. Now c’mon,” she insisted, turning towards the bar. He grabbed her arm, halting her movement.
“I never said I didn’t like it,” he stated, and when she looked back at him, he was still staring at her body.
Her outfit was ridiculous, she knew that. The entire thing was made out of a distressed metallic gold lamé and was only two articles of clothing. Well, three, if she included the thigh high fishnet stalkings she wore. The other pieces were a short skirt that on her, with her long legs, showed the bottom swell of her ass cheeks. Normally, she wore a cute pair of black ruffly butt-covers underneath, but she’d been in a hurry and hadn’t bothered with them that day. The top was a three-quarter sleeve V-neck number that tied in a knot between her breasts and stopped there. Everything from her ribs to her hips was exposed skin. A pair of boots typically completed the outfit, but she’d left them in the car and had grabbed a random pair of heels from the dressing room.
It was trashy and cheap, making her look like a two dollar hooker. But she also knew she had a great rack and a nice ass, so at least she was a sexy hooker. And judging by the way Archer was eyeballing all the aforementioned assets, he didn’t seem to mind the trashy-cheap look.
“Well, then,” she cleared her throat, and he finally looked away from her tits and into her eyes. “I’m glad you’re enjoying the view. Pity the goods don’t live up to the packaging.”
“Huh?” he asked, and she pulled her arm free of his grasp.
“Pretty good,” she reminded him, and he groaned, rolling his eyes.
“Jo, I didn’t -”
“Jodi!”
A high pitched squeal interrupted them – her coworker, Kim, the other girl who’d been out with her last night. She all but threw herself at Jo, giving her a big hug. Jo glared as Archer didn’t even try to hide the fact that he ogling the two of them.
“Hey, Kimmy,” Jo laughed, finally pushing the other girl away. “How you feeling? Wild night last night.”
“O.M.G., wasn’t it the best!? Lookin’ good, Archer,” Kim winked at him. He smiled big.
“Feelin’ good, Kim.”
“You two were so cute last night,” Kim sighed, clutching her hands together. “The way you were all over each other! I swear, I almost melted.”
“All over …” Jo turned to stare at him. He cleared his throat and waved a hand in the air.
“So Kim, we have kind of a conundrum,” he talked over her.
“A co-what?” Kim asked, scrunching her nose.
“A problem,” Jo said, then she repeated the same lie she’d told to Michelle.
“Hmmm, what did he look like?” Kim asked. Jo swallowed thickly and tried to remember from her glances in the trunk that morning. He’d been laying face down.
“Like medium height,” Archer filled in. “Brown hair. Older than us, I think, probably mid-thirties.”
“Sounds like a lot of people,” Kim pouted her lips out.
“But he said he came here a lot,” Jo stressed. “And, uh, I think he said his name was … Bernard?”
Kim gasped.
“Bernard!” she squealed. “Yeah, I know him! He was there? I wish I’d known, I love him.”
“You know him, yes, thank you baby jesus,” Jo gasped. “Do you maybe know -”
“He’s so rich, he leaves the biggest tips,” Kim kept talking. “You know, he’s the one who told me about that night club.”
Jo and Archer glanced at each other.
“He did?” she asked slowly. Kim nodded.
“Mmm hmmm. We were flirting one day, and I mentioned I was planning a ladies night. He said they had great drinks down there, said he could get us a free bottle. I can’t believe he didn’t say hi! He must have an eye for you, Jo,” Kim laughed. Jo forced out a chuckle.
“Yeah, must have … so he comes here a lot?” she asked.
“Kinda. Like recently, I guess,” Kim thought for a second. “I guess I noticed him a couple week ago. Started coming in every day, stays through the end of my shift. Sweet guy, tips big. Asks a lot of questions.”
“Oh really? About what?” Archer kept his voice casual.
“The girls, what we like, what’s allowed. Ya know, he’s a Johnny type – wants to hook up with us chicks. I’m not surprised he likes you, Jo, he’s into brunettes with long legs. Oh, table fourteen is calling, gotta run. Nice to see you, Archer!”
As Kim jogged off to help the customer, Jo and Archer stood side by side. It was a lot of information to take in. Mr. Bernard Krakow had recently started going to Bunny Love, within the last two weeks. He asked about all the girls, particularly leggy brunettes. Jodi was a leggy brunette. He’d been the one to suggest the nightclub they’d all gone to, and he’d most likely known who Jo was before he’d talked to her. I
t was all just … too much of a coincidence.
“Archer,” she whispered, glancing around. “What if I didn’t black out?”
“What do you mean? You were gone, you don’t even remember offering me a rim job.”
“I what!?”
“You gotta work on your sense of humor,” he chuckled.
“This is serious! I’ve never had a hangover like that, I’ve never … I mean, sure, okay, I’ve gotten black out drunk before – but I don’t remember half the night. It’s like a fog. Like I wasn’t myself. I think he drugged me,” she said. Archer raised his eyebrows.
“You got roofied?” he clarified what she was trying to say.
“I think I did,” she nodded.
“He targeted you.”
“I really think he did. Archer, I think he knew me,” she stressed. “I think he’d been watching me, and I think he wanted me at that nightclub.”
“This is insane. We have to find out where he lives, find out what he wanted with -”
A man a couple tables away started shouting for her. Jo groaned and glanced around. A floor manager was in a corner, snapping his fingers at her and pointing to the customer. She nodded and hurried away from Archer, pulling an order pad out from her waistband.
After she’d taken the gentleman’s order, she hurried off to the bar. She stood behind a gaggle of waitresses who were all flirting with the bartender, then finally she stepped up, slapping her ticket on the counter.
“Hey, Micah,” she smiled big. He playfully glared for a second, then smiled.
“Hey, baby girl. You got something for me?” he asked, leaning towards her. She leaned over, as well.
“I’ve got an order, and a lot of questions” she said, slicking her tongue across her bottom lip. “Do you know a regular, Bernard? Bernard Krakow?”
“Hmmm, maybe,” he flirted. “What’s the info worth to you?”
“Oh, c’mon, I’ve got that money I owe you. Just tell me what you know about him, please?” she asked, pouting out her bottom lip.
“Why do you want to know?” he asked in a teasing voice. She resisted the urge to slap him.
“Because I have something of his, and I would like to give it back,” she explained.
Just a Little Junk Page 8