“You should have seen him. He was all beaten up. Bleeding, swollen. There were bruises and lumps all over his body.”
“So you told him yes.”
“I told him no.” Bonnie Shay reared back like a king cobra. “I told him to get out of my house. I told him to send his killers, but I wouldn’t be his whore.”
That phrase played over and over in my mind for the next few weeks, and years.
“So what’s the problem?” I asked, trying to seem unimpressed with her heroism.
“Holland got Idabell to do it.”
“How does that work?”
“Roman kept calling but I wouldn’t talk to him. I was afraid to go to the police, I didn’t even know what I would say. So I just waited it out. When nothing happened I thought that everything was okay.
“And then a month or so later Idabell calls and asks if we can spend a few days in Paris. She said that Holland was going out of town. I got her a ticket. It was only when we were landing in L.A. that I saw the croquet set. It had been delivered to our hotel and she got it without me knowing.”
“But why would she do that? She didn’t owe anything to Roman, did she?”
“It was because of Pharaoh.”
“The dog.”
“Roman promised to share the money with Holland if he would get Ida to do it. So Holland hid the dog and told Ida that he’d kill it if she didn’t do what he said. You know Ida’s crazy over that dog.”
“But who killed them?”
“I guess it was the people who they were doing business with. The man who came to my house today.”
It made sense. It was a simple case of a falling out among thieves.
“But maybe Idabell killed Holland,” I guessed out loud.
“No,” said Miss Shay. “I don’t believe that.”
“Maybe to save her dog?” I speculated. “That damn dog seems to be the reason for every problem we have.”
“Idabell wouldn’t even know how to kill a man. Where would she get a gun?”
“Out of her husband’s top drawer. That’s where most men keep their guns, you know. In the top drawer, next to the bed.” I was just talking. “So now what do you want to do?”
“What do you mean?” She looked around, coming aware that she was in a strange man’s house. After all, what did she know about me? Killers had kids too.
“You wanna go to the cops?” I offered.
“Maybe I should.”
“Maybe so. I mean, if your life is in danger then maybe the cops will help; maybe they’ll believe that you didn’t know what was going on. But if they don’t believe you you’ll be alive, but you’ll also be in jail.”
She stood up quickly and took a step toward the door.
I stayed in my chair.
“Why are you trying to scare me, Mr. Rawlins?”
“I’m not tryin’ to scare you, honey,” I sighed. “I’m just tryin’ to point out that we both want the same thing.”
“What’s that?”
“To be let alone. That’s all. We both got lives and jobs and we both want a future. Police don’t care about none’a that.”
Bonnie stared at the floor in front of my feet the same way that Jesus had.
“You want to sleep for a while?” I asked.
“I, I don’t know. I’m tired, but …”
“You can have my bed. I’m’onna be here for a while. You could get some sleep and then we’ll figure out what you should do.”
I took her into my room and she stretched out on top of the blankets. I spent the next half an hour in the kitchen going over the crimes in my mind again. Sanchez and Fogherty smelled the drugs somehow. I don’t think they knew what or how, because if they did they would have either left me alone or thrown me in jail.
No, they had suspicions, that’s all. They wanted to know more about the whiff of dope that stuck in their nostrils.
He didn’t know it, but Sanchez wanted Bonnie. I’d never give her to him. She wasn’t the kind of woman that a fool like me could give up.
When the phone started ringing I decided not to answer it. On the sixth ring I wondered who it was. On the tenth bell I picked up the receiver.
“Hello.”
