The sexy little brunette gnaws at her nails, looking half a second away from shitting her pants. It’s not an attractive look, so I assume she isn’t flirting with me.
“Would you like to sit down and discuss your troubles?” I ask, wondering if one of the guys hurt her or she’s knocked up.
While I’m not normally the go-between with the sweet butts and club management, Taylor isn’t around, and I’ve heard I’m less scary than my friend. It’s bullshit, really. I’m just as crazy as that bitch!
Dione sits on the other side of the booth, just like she used to when flirting with Goliath. I’m sure many a night she slid under the table and choked on his giant dick. I do not envy her that experience. The thing is huge, but I believe it loves me too much to skull-fuck me. We have a solid relationship, even if I will never under any circumstances suck on that thing.
Tearing my brain away from thoughts of the mini goliath, I remember Dione is in front of me.
“So, what’s up?”
“I was the one who told the reporter about you,” Dione says, looking ready to cry. “I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because I feel guilty.”
“You shouldn’t talk shit about club people, Dione,” I say in a low voice. “That’s the kind of stuff that makes a person turn invisible. I thought you liked hanging out at the Saloon.”
“I do, but I got jealous and babbled to this girl I know who writes for the local paper. I just wanted for people to make fun of you for thinking you could catch him.”
“You’re a bitch, Dione,” I state calmly. “Let’s just get that out there in the open. But I also feel sorry for you because you’re obviously fucking stupid.”
“I was impulsive.”
“Sweet butts never talk shit about club people. That’s rule one. I ought to kick your ass, but I’m not going to.”
“You’ll just tell Taylor to do it,” she mumbles, ready to cry. “Or ban me from the Saloon.”
“I don’t know. That letter gave us info that might help catch him.”
Dione stops pouting and perks up. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I have a tip. Maybe it could put me in better standing.”
“Why even tell me the truth if you were so worried about getting fucked by me knowing?”
Shrugging, Dione says, “I figured you’d find out, and I might as well be honest.”
“All right, fine. I’ll let your ass go un-kicked, but I can’t promise Shane won’t ban you for a few weeks. He’s very protective of me. Now, what’s your tip?”
“Well, you know how I work at the grocery store?”
Fighting the urge to roll my eyes at her believing I’m well versed with the ins and outs of the sweet butts’ lives, I just say, “No, I did not know that about you.”
“Well, I do. And there’s this guy that comes in every week, and he will often use my checkout. I never paid attention to what he was buying. To be honest, he’s one of those guys that blends into everything. Anyway, I was thinking about how Violet Navarro might be alive.”
My interest perks up at the mention of that name. “Go on.”
“My mind was on your investigation when he came through my line yesterday. I didn’t really listen to him make small talk. It’s all the same crap about the weather or customers being rude. Like I said, he’s bland. But I noticed how he was buying tampons and pads. I couldn’t remember if he did that before, but it was weird since he’s not married. I just can’t imagine him picking up period stuff for a girlfriend either. I guess he might have a daughter that he was buying for. Still, I thought it was weird, so I wanted to tell you.”
“Do you know his name?”
“No. I never paid attention to him.”
“But he comes into the store every week?”
“Yes. Tuesdays or Wednesdays.”
The Violet Navarro thing always felt off. She wasn’t like the other girls the Slasher took, which meant he probably didn’t take her. Except she was the exact physical type of girl—long blonde hair, blue eyes, tall, kinda innocent-looking—that he targeted. She was different yet the same. A part of me always wondered if he kept her. Mostly because I didn’t want her to be dead. I knew my thinking was dumb, but maybe Dione is onto something.
“I want you to tell me every single thing you remember. Plus, I want