(Flash forward) Three Days Later, back at the cabaret

Three days later

Detective Eric Walker's normally handsome face was drawn tight. As he waited in line to speak to the doorman and be admitted into the club, the other patrons in the line instinctively kept their distance from him - anyone who got too close was warned away with a glare as sharp as a porcupine's quills.

Even behind a dark pair of sunglasses, the tuxedo-clad doorman was obviously concerned when Walker came up. "Sorry," the broad-shouldered black man sounded genuinely apologetic, "the, uh, the manager said that you're not welcome in the establishment at this time."

"I'm a police detective." Walker didn't even look directly at him, keeping his gaze focused past the door.

"I understand that, but the manager was very clear. Unless you have a warrant, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"How about this? You get the fuck out of my face, and if the sleazy piece of shit you work for asks why you let me in, tell him whatever you want. Tell him I stuck a gun in your face if you want. Otherwise, you had better be very goddamn sure you know what can or can't constitute an 'obstruction of justice' charge."

The Detective uses intimidation + presence, and adds willpower as well. It's resisted by the bouncer's resolve, reducing the dice pool from 8 to 5. He gets no successes. Failing that, Walker decides to use intelligence + politics to figure out a legalistic excuse if he's willing to bend the rules. His intelligence of 3 is added to his politics of 1. This also fails with zero successes.

"I'm sorry sir but you're going to have to leave. I can call up your supervisor if you want, but I can't let you in." Walker saw a glint of smug satisfaction in the burly bouncer's eye at having an excuse to tell a cop to go fuck himself with the law on his side. It was so irritating that he couldn't even think of a convincing-sounding probable cause to assert.

"There's other people waiting to get in, so if that's all for now, Im'a have to ask you to leave." the bouncer folded his arms in a gesture to show he wasn't budging.

Suddenly, a deep, gruff voice broke in from behind the flummoxed detective. "Hey. Did I overhear you say you're a detective? Is there any chance you're here looking for a chick called Jules Lopez?"

Turning, Eric Walker saw before him a grizzled biker who looked like he'd stepped out of a 1980s movie. Scraggly black hair hanging freely down to his shoulders, a short beard with a few streaks of grey creeping in, and a bicep-exposing leather vest that screamed 'macho'.

"Who the fuck are you?" the detective demanded. He could see the stranger had skipped half a dozen people in the line, but none of them seemed like they want to make an issue of it.

Grinning with one side of his mouth, the biker chuckled and put an arm around him. "Oh yeah, you're definitely him. Julie said the flatfoot she's been taking to was a real asshole." Before Eric could defend himself, the biker lowered his sunglasses slightly and gave a hard look to the bouncer. "This guy's with me. Make an exception for him this time, alright."

The bouncer looked conflicted, but pulled the velvet rope aside. "If you say so."

The moment they were through the doorway, Walker pointedly shrugged the strangers' hand off his shoulder and whirled to face him. "Hey, I wasn't asking a rhetorical question, I mean it. Who? the fuck? Are you?" he jabbed his unexpected benefactor in the chest with his finger for emphasis.

"You can call me Jack. I'm a, ah," he chuckled in a gravelly tone, "family member of Julie. I was just coming here to see how she's holding out."

"I've been investigating Ms. Lopez for the past several weeks. You don't look like any of the relations the computer brought up." Walker said suspiciously.

There was no response. 'Jack' waltzed right past the waitresses who tried to greet him, leaving them looking confused, and had a word with Jeff, the man behind the bar. With the loud music and conversation, Walker couldn't hear what was said, but Jack gestured at him to follow as he headed up to the VIP room. There was a second bouncer, this one in just a black t-shirt, standing guard with folded arms in front of that door, but Jack had a quick word with him, and the second beefy roadblock stepped aside just as readily as the first.

The strange biker and the detective emerged into a fairly crowded VIP room where there was clearly a party going on - ice buckets of expensive champagne on the table. There were a trio of black guys on the sofas, all of them with the gaudy, noveau-riche fashion sense right out of a music video - gold watches, neck chains, rings, medallions...

Fawning all over them were five of the cabaret's waitresses, all wearing those sexy vinyl 'playboy bunny' costumes. Immediately, Walker's eyes zeroed in on the one he was looking for: Jules Lopez.

Compared to the others who were just rubbing their curves on their customers, Jules was sitting in the lap of the biggest and most musclar of the three patrons, facing away from him. Beyond a more lap dance, Jules had her legs spread wide and was allowing the patron free access to the enticing camel toe of her slit that showed through the tight vinyl of her bunny outfit. His finger was pressing so hard against the black vinyl that he was practically inside her... and one of her hands was disappearing inside his shorts.

When Jules noticed the annoying detective barging in on her place of work yet again, Walker might have expected her to be furious, as she'd very specifically told him never to come back. But there was something unmistakably different about the buxom hispanic girl in front of him compared to when he'd first met her face-to-face in this same VIP room last week.

She didn't yell at him to get out, or stare daggers, or even leap up from her compromising position in shame. She... smiled. Her pearly white teeth caught the dim light. That reddish flash in her eyes that Walker had thought he was imagining before was now seemingly permanent.

"Yo, what the fuck? Who let your ass in here?" the man who'd been fingering Jules looked on challengingly. He moved as if to stand up, but Jules didn't budge. In fact, she grabbed his wrist and kept his hand right where it was, clearly not wanting him to stop touching where he was touching.

"Hey again, Detective." Jules said. She was nowhere near as flustered as when Walker had ambushed her the first couple of times. Her confidence was almost enough to unnerve him.

"Detective?!" One of the other patrons, a skinny guy with a high fade and a soul patch, pushed the waitress next to him to the side and jumped to his feet. "You motherfuckers don't know when to quit. Don't even say nothin', I've got my lawyer on speed dial." he said as he dug out his cell phone.

The detective's practiced eye could tell it was a feint; a front. There were probably **** somewhere in the room or in his car. Maybe an illegal gun or two. Not that it mattered.

"Yeah, Kevin! Tell his ass!" the third man at the other end of the couch said. "Fuckin' pigs can't stand to see a n____ who's made it. This is harassment! You followed me and Kev and John here hoping you was gonna catch us holding?" he pushed one of the champagne buckets forward. "You ain't gonna find nothin' except the good shit we paid for! Bet this cost more than your whole salary, fool!"

Eric Walker's eyes flicked in his direction for just a moment, sparing him the absolute minimum of attention before re-focusing on Jules. "Apologies for interrupting your evening, sir. I'm sure the owner will compensate you."

"Apologies?! What game are you playing, bitch?" 'Kevin', the skinny one, said accusingly.

"Sorry, was I being too polite?" Walker said, digging his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket dismissively. "I meant I don't know who the fuck you are and I don't care. I'm here to talk to one of the staff."

All of the other four bunny waitresses looked frozen with fear, like scared rabbits. But Jules didn't look scared. There was something unmistakably predatory about her gaze. She bit her lip and leaned back and to the side so 'John', the big guy whose lap she was sitting in, could see her face.

"Ahaha... um, sorry, guys. This one is on me. I'm sort of being investigated for allegedly killing a guy." Jules spoke as casually as if she was admitting to being caught speeding.

A moment ago, the guy whose lap Jules was in had looked like he was waiting for his chance to say something tough in front of tha hated lawman, but that took the wind out of his sails, and he turned to look at Jules in surprise. "Whoah... for serious?"

The strange long-haired guy in the biker vest leaned past Walker and gave the room a sarcastic wave. "Hey brothers! I'm the, ah, new management. Sorry for the interruption. I'll tell 'em to comp you the VIP room fee, alright?"

"Yeah," Jules said, very pointedly NOT taking her hand out of the patron's shorts. Instead, she slipped her hand inside his underwear, grabbing hold of his cock and giving it a squeeze with the bare skin of her hand, making his eyes bug out in surprise. "And no need to interrupt. This fucking pig can wait. I'm just gonna tell him to talk to my lawyer anyway. Hey, you hear that, detective? I'm gonna be busy for an hour or so here."

A couple of the other girls laughed nervously and started to back away. Jules blew air through her nose and shook her head at them. "You girls can run off if you want! More 'tips' for me if you do!"

Jack, the strange wild-looking biker, put a hand on the detective's shoulder and squeezed hard. "Hey, it looks like they're busy. You can see she's here, not running off anywhere, right? How about you let Jewel come talk to you in your office later?"

Walker shrugged his hand away. "I'm not going anywhere until I have a word in private with Miss Lopez."

Unlike before where she was compelled to spar when he needled her, Jules's only response was a short, sharp laugh. She didn't seem intimidated by him or bothered in the slightest. "Suit yourself, man. You can either wait outside, or stand there staring like a pervert while I suck this guy's dick."

To show that she meant what she said, Jules slid out of John's lap and hiked her curvaceous light brown ass up in the air, undoing his fly and starting to tug down his shorts and underwear.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh!" The other two patrons seemed to find that terribly amusing, and jeered loudly at Eric as the clean-cut detective stood there stone-faced. The one Jules was de-pantsing just sat there in stunned silence.

That he felt a twinge of jealousy kindled an anger borne of shame in Walker's gut. Part of him had to wonder... did Jules somehow know that he'd watched that video of her making her porn debut? Watched ALL of it?

"Do whatever you want. I'm not leaving until we talk. To you, not some greasy attorney." He kept his eyes on her as he backed out through the door and slammed it behind him.

No sooner was he out the door than Jules showed, by action, that she wasn't just bluffing. She pulled her patron's shorts down to his knees, exposing a big black cock in front of the whole room. "Whoah, hey! Slow down girl, you really gonna...?"

Even though 'Big John' half-heartedly tried to push her away, Jules wouldn't be shifted. She draped her voluptuous body over his thigh, squeezing her tits against him, and brought her mouth down on that shaft. The other waitresses gasped and giggled in surprise. Even though this was a strip club in all-but-name, most didn't go quite that far with their guests (not inside the club, anyway), and none of them moved nearly that fast.

Jules found herself quite enjoying the taste and feel of a man's penis. A week ago, this is the kind of thing she'd found as a regrettable necessity just to support herself and make rent. But now, the feel of the veiny shaft gliding past her lips and the warm, spongy stiffness of the cock head bumping against the back of her throat was comforting and satisfying. Loud slurping sounds filled the room and she went so deep that she started to gag. When she pulled up and took a deep breath, she jerked it a couple of times.

"Hey, aren't you going to touch me some more? I was enjoying it." she said casually before resuming the blowjob. The other two patrons and the other girls ooohed, awwed, and cheered as Jules went to town on her guest.

John, the newly-successful hip hop artist, was clenching his jaw in surprise as he stared at the smolderingly hot girl giving him oral sex. He was caught between conflicting impulses. The way that she'd responded to casually to it being revealed she was a suspected killer made him feel nervous. Despite talking a big game around his crew and in his songs, 'Big John' had never been involved in anything more serious than some run-of-the-mill dope slinging and a drunken fist-fight or three.

But, then again, when a fit girl with huge knockers starts giving you a blowjob, just pushing her off doesn't feel like the gentlemanly thing to do. A lot of guys probably wouldn't complain in the moment if it was Lizzie Borden herself still covered in blood. As requested, he reached over to start fingering Jules through her costume and gave her jiggling ass a swat with his palm.

And then she did something else unexpected: Jules began rooting through the pocket in his lowered shorts and pulled out a wallet. Without missing a beat, she flipped it open as if she owned it. The sheer disrespect for his property caught the guy off guard, and he barely managed a weak protest. "Whoah! Hey, girl! That's... mine...!"

"Here we go." Jules smirked as she pulled out a condom wrapper and carelessly tossed the wallet aside as if it were trash. "I'm gonna be distracted thinking about what I'm gonna say to that asshole cop, so, you mind if we hurry this along and skip to the end, dude?"

Another of the waitresses laughed in shock. "Whoah! Jewel! You tripping, girl?"

With a shrug, Jules started tearing open the wrapper and smirked. "What? The guys bought the expensive champagne. A hundred fifty dollars a bottle or something, right? That's gotta be worth getting your dick wet." Even as she spoke to her colleagues playfully she was unrolling the rubber down the patron's shaft.

"Holy shit... you mean... in front of everybody?" the tough guy edge was gone from her chosen patron's voice as he looked down at the hand grasping his newly rubber-covered dick by the base.

"Fuck yeah. This is the kind of 'lap dance' you get in the VIP room." Jules said confidently. With surprising strength, she pushed the big black man back in his seat. She hiked one leg up and planted it on the cushion on one side of his lap, and... *SNAP*

"Oh god damn it! Stupid fucking heels!" Jules growled with annoyance as she broke yet another shoe. "I'm never going to get the hang of these things." she casually kicked the shoe off and planted her other foot on the couch as well...

Almost before John knew what was happening, he was wearing a suspected murderess around his cock. The voluptuous short-haired girl slid her pussy down his shaft with a deep, throaty moan of relief. "Ohhhh yeah!" Jules closed her eyes and rested her hands on his shoulders. "That's BIG! Fill me up with that big cock!"

She wiggled her hips from side to side as she slid down until her toned, bouncy ass was resting in his lap. "I saw this in a video and wanted to try it... hey, dude, give me a hand here! Put your hands under my butt! Yeah, like that!"

Somehow, as he supported Jules's amazingly sexy ass with his palms and started helping her do squats on his manhood, feeling the wet folds of her cunt gripping him and squeezing, John felt as if he'd lost control of the situation. He'd come here as a hunter to prey on nubile, sexy young girls in their rabbit costumes. But somewhere along the line, he'd become the prey.

A combination of that nervousness, and the astonishingly erotic sight of the girl's huge natural breasts bouncing free of the tape holding her leotard in place as she rode his lap, made it impossible for him to last very long. After just a minute of the erotic show, he grimaced and his legs began to shake. "Oh shit...! Slow down girl, I'm....!"

It was clear that Jules, in the moment, was only thinking of her own pleasure. She giggled and flashed a toothy, fierce smile at him as her ass clapped against his lap. When her patron came and filled up the condom, she barely seemed to notice, and kept picking up the pace of her own movements, focused on the pleasant feel of being penetrated. It was only when his cock softened enough that he couldn't stay up inside her anymore,that she slowed down.

"Aw." Jules sighed, brushing away some of the sweat from her face. "I didn't get to cum. Oh well, I should get this crap over with." She casually tugged the crotch of her leotard back into place as she hopped off the couch. "I'll be back in a little bit. It'd be nice if you gave me at least a sixty dollar tip for that. Normally I'd suggest more, but I know I kinda rushed it."

"Damn... we... we didn't even open the champagne..." John gasped as he stared at her in awe.

"It's fine. I'm only eighteen, I can't drink anyway." Jules said casually. "I know Xana and Krystal can, though, so be nice and share with them, okay?" She put her hands on two of the other girls' shoulders. "We're under new management now, you guys." she said to the other waitresses. "No more need to worry about getting in trouble for stepping over the lines. The new owner says the VIP room should have a reputation as a place where anything can happen, right? Make sure the other two guests leave fully satisfied.. I think you know what I mean."

Making sure her outfit wasn't exposing her genitals anymore, Jules walked out the door. An offensive odor assaulted her immediately.

"Eric! You fucking asshole! I told you the first time you came here that this place is no-smoking!" Jules pointed at him accusingly.

Detective Walker was doing his best film-noir-protagonist impression, leaning against one of the walls with a lit cigarette hanging precariously from his lips. He took it out and blew a stream of smoke at Jules. "Yeah, you did, and I lit up anyway."

"Well, this time I mean it. Put it out or I'll put YOU out the door." Jules folded her arms over her breasts, which constantly threatened to slip free from the bunnygirl leotard now that the tape holding them in place had fallen off.

In a gesture of reckless indifference, Walker dropped the cigarette right there on the floor and stubbed it out under his shoe, making a nasty smear of ash. "A week ago, you said you wanted me to help you, Miss Lopez. Did you forget? You said you wanted to find out who really killed Nathaniel Grey, and then you told me you thought I could help."

Jules's face was impassive. She blinked, but didn't betray any other feelings. "I was just-"

"And I was really damn close to believing you." Walker said, his voice even harsher and more high-strung than usual. "How much of an idiot do you think I felt like for taking your word when not three days alter, I'm standing there staring at the goddamn fucking massacre inside that abandoned Food Lion grocery store?"

"Uh-" Jules started to reply, but didn't get very far.

Walker held his hand up. "Don't bother with the formalities. I've got a witness placing you at the scene right before the shit started. One who'd already gotten a good look at you the day before, when you were doing film work."

Jules snorted derisively and smirked at him. "'Doing film work'? You mean making a hardcore porn video? Did you jack off while watching me get fucked?"

Silent until now, the biker guy, Jack, laughed out loud. "Oh man. Young girls sure have gotten crude these days, haven't they?"

Wheeling around on him with a hateful glare, Eric regarded the long-haired older man with a clenched jaw. "Excuse me, this is something I need to discuss privately with Miss Lopez. Could you kindly fuck off now?"

"Sorry. Like I said, I'm family. I gotta look out for her." Jack chuckled.

Jules walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's fine, Jack. I can handle this guy. I'll see you after work, alright?"

Jack gave her a long look, then nodded slowly and shrugged. "You know where to find me." he stretched his arms over his head as he casually strolled back down the stairs to the first floor.

Walker stared at him until he was sure the enigmatic man was gone. Then he turned back to Jules. "Now, Miss Lopez," he said, "I want you to understand that I am not saying the following out of misguided pity, but obvious fact. I know you didn't do it yourself. I'm still not 100% you aren't directly responsible for Mr. Grey's ****, and I'm a hell of a lot less than 100% certain you don't have it in you to kill."

Closing his eyes for a moment, Walker seemed to be picturing something. When he opened them again, Jules could see how bleary and bloodshot they were. "But as a girl barely out of high school, I'm pretty damn certain that you aren't the one who did that fucking cartel **** squad shit in the grocery store."

"Like I said," Jules mumbled, breaking eye contact, "I hired a pretty good lawyer-"

"You don't need a fucking lawyer!" Walker lurched towards her and slammed his palm on the wall next to her head. Rather than flinch, the young hispanic girl frowned and stared back defiantly at him. He continued: "You need someone to protect you from whoever did that! Those three guys we found at the scene - what's left of them - were clearly involved in some seriously dark shit. We've linked disappearances in three different cities to them, so far. And what a fucking scene it was. The brutality was one thing. But that thing with the cow carcass? That was a new one to everybody on the homicide squad."

He narrowed his eyes at Jules. "And you were there as... bait? A lookout? My current working theory is that you're being used as a honey trap by a very salty hit squad."

Jules was silent. Detective Walker's gaze was so intense he was practically staring holes in her. "I don't know if you're doing it for money, or thrills, or got threatened into it, but it doesn't matter. Miss Lopez, I guaran-fucking-tee you that the moment people like that get word that you're under investigation by the police, they're going to slaughter you just like they slaughtered loverboy a few months back, and just like they slaughtered those dirtbags in the Food Lion."

Silence.

Walker pounded one of his fists against the wall in frustration. "Do you understand what I'm telling you, you stupid little girl? Your choices right now are full cooperation and the witness protection program, or getting identified by your fucking dental records on the county coroner's slab. If that..."

The handsome-yet-crude detective glanced back over his shoulder, "...if that scummy looking guy in the vest is part of the organziation using you, you might have less time than you think. I would strongly, strongly recommend that you come downtown with me and spend the night in a cell for your own protection."

There was an even longer, more awkward pause. The only sound was the tinkling of piano music and the chorus of muffled conversation from the ground floor of the cabaret.

"So," Jules finally said, a wry smirk on her lips, "does this mean our date is canceled? That sucks, man. I'd picked out a really nice outfit, too."

Fists balled up tightly, the blonde detective visibly trembled with anger for a moment before he collected himself enough to speak again. "Alright. I tried. I was never good at playing Sir-Lancelot-the-Knight-in-Shining-Armor, but I goddamn tried. You'd better hope that I get enough on those sicarios you're working for to make some arrests soon. And you'd better hope I get them all. In the meantime, if I find just a tiny bit more evidence tying you to the Nathaniel Grey killing, next time I come here, you'll be leaving in handcuffs."

"Hmm." Jules cocked her head to the side, then to the other side. Then she put on a mocking smile. "Sorry, what was all that? I wasn't paying attention. I keep getting distracted by how hot you are. You sure I can't convince you to continue this 'discussion' in the VIP room after those other guys leave?"

Walker, in spite of himself, was taken aback. There'd been a great change in this girl's personality since the last two times he confronted her. She wasn't getting scared or flustered this time no matter how hard he laid on the pressure tactics. She was giving him condescending glances as if he were a yappy little chihuaha nipping at her ankles.

He reached into his wallet and produced another worn, bent white paper card. "Here's my number, in case you forgot it. I'd urge you in the strongest possible terms to contact me when you're ready to honestly discuss the details of the incident at the abandoned grocery store. You can bring your laweyer if you want, but if you aren't going to say anything about it besides 'I don't recall', don't bother wasting my time. Have a good evening, Miss Lopez."

When he vanished down the hall, Jules sighed wistfully and looked down at her stockinged feet.

The night of the full moon. The night that everything finally made sense to her, and everything changed. Little did that policeman know, Jules knew perfectly well what had happened the night her lover Nathaniel had been killed in his home.

And, even if Jules didn't yet know what story she was going to tell that troublesome detective, she knew perfectly well what happened in the grocery store, and why Reina couldn't remember any of the details.

She knew perfectly well - because she was the one who made that mess.