The Blonde by Duane Swierczynski Read Free Book Online

him.
    “It was the same with me,” the blonde said. “I saw you and knew I could trust you. And once I tell you why, I think you’ll understand. Maybe even forgive me.”
    Kelly opened her mouth, then slowly closed it again. She swept some of the hair from her forehead, looked around the room.
    “I have one last favor to ask first. Please bear with me.”
    “Sure. Whatever. You poisoned me, you call the shots.”
    “I need to use the bathroom. Badly.”
    “Try the room with the white seat.”
    “Very funny, Jack. But I need you in there with me.”
    “Look, I promise I won’t leave. At the very least, I have to find out why you’ve poisoned me. And frankly, I may decide to keep you here for the police.”
    “It’s not that. I can’t go alone.”
    “What, are you scared? I told you: I’ll be right here.”
    “You
have
to be in there with me.”
    “You’re seriously insane, aren’t you?”
    “Jack, you’ve only known me a few hours. But by now, you should know I mean what I say.”
    I poisoned your drink
. Definitely true.
    Go along with this or you’ll die
. Most likely true.
    I need to use the bathroom…. I can’t go alone
.
    Okay, give her the benefit of the doubt.
    “Don’t worry,” she said. “It’s only number one. I think I’d die if it was the other. You should see what I’ve gone through to do that.”
    Jack didn’t know what she was talking about; didn’t really care. He wanted answers. So fine, she needed to pee with him in the room, here we go. Very least, it’d be something amusing to share with Donovan Piatt first thing in the morning: Don, my man, I had this blonde in my hotel room. And she wanted me to watch her pee. Wild, huh?
    Kelly helped him up from the bed—he realized he still felt a little shaky, dizzy—and he shuffled after her into the bathroom. Typical hotel setup: bathtub with shower, vanity, towels washed so hard that you could practically smell the bleach in the air. Jack sat on the edge of the tub and watched Kelly unhook her belt, then unbutton her jeans. She started to unzip, then stopped.
    “You don’t have to look.”
    Now he was being accused of being a perv.
    “Sorry.”
    Jack turned his head away, stared at a white square tile on the opposite wall. The sealant around it was a little sloppy. He heard the rustle of jeans slipping down over a pair of legs, followed by what he presumed was a pair of panties. This would make for another excellent image for the wife. Jack, alone in a hotel bathroom with a blonde who had her pants around her ankles. But honey, he’d argue. I was facing a tile wall the whole time. I don’t even know if she’s a natural blonde.
    She started to go, making for an incredibly awkward silence. The water hitting water sounded as loud as the Hoover Dam.
    “So … is this, like, a nervous disorder?”
    “Nothing like that. You said you had a family. Aren’t you ever in the bathroom at the same time as your wife?”
    “Not if we can help it.” Not since she filed for divorce. “We’re private people.”
    “I thought men were a little more open than that. I used to date a guy who loved to take care of business with the door wide open. He’d stroll around my flat naked. No shame whatsoever. Then again, he did have something to be proud of. I suspect he was part exhibitionist.”
    “Well, that’s not me.”
    Now that he thought about it, the only girl he’d ever watched in the bathroom was his daughter, Callie. But that had been when she was toilet training. And that he’d stopped about a year ago, when she was three. “I need privacy, Daddy,” she told him one day. Made him laugh and broke his heart at the same time.
    Kelly finished. He heard her rip some toilet paper from the roll, then flush. As she stood to pull up her pants, Jack found himself turning back to face her.
    He told himself he thought she was done, already covered, but the moment the thought entered his brain, he knew it was a lie. Because he wanted to