Kizzy fly by night.

Chapter 71

Chapter 71

Kizzy

He gives me a knowing look as they both leave. He's trying to rattle me...knowing Dante he probably described me to a T but they've nothing on me apart from hearsay. I smile innocently as one of them heads for the car. Fatty lingers, "Hope you're not planning on leaving town anytime soon..."

"Ha, fat chance of that."

He nods turning on his heels, "Glad to hear it."

I slam the door, jeez what a fucking nerve. Benita calls me into the kitchen and lowers her voice, "Okay what have they got on you..."

I look at her appalled, "Nothing B, nothing at all, Jesus thanks for the support!"

She grabs my wrist, "You always have my support, no matter what."

Phoenix walks into the kitchen grinning, "So anyone got any guesses who smoked Miss Velvet?"

"That little tart had it coming," muttered Benita washing her cup.

My eyes bug, "Fucking hell gangster B."

We all laugh and it feels so good. My mind drifts to Dante...he must be mad as Hell. It was only Valium that I gave him, nothing to mess with his memory. I sure would have loved to have been a fly on the wall when the Police broke the door down. Hilarious, Fucking mad. Shame he's so gorgeous would have been a lot easier if he was ugly as sin.

I go up to my room for some time out. Thank God for my sister and brother.

2 Weeks Later.

Kizzy

The papers had a small insert about Star's death but nothing major which just goes to prove my point, even in death she's nothing. I have no remorse, if truth be told I'm kind of happy so far it's all worked out for the best. I wonder what Dad will make of this... he's pretty smart and no doubt will have it all figured out already.

Benita's been driving me mad with this baby scan. Every customer who's come into the bakery has been asked to take a guess, boy or girl? They all seem pretty good-natured about it though.

I would prefer a new dog but of course, I'd never tell her that. Feeling generous I pick up a pen and paper, maybe it's time I drop Dad a line.

One Month later.

Kizzy

This is ridiculous. I've been called into the station twice now to give a blow-by-blow account of my whereabouts on the night in question. I'm not panicking. I have two fucking Alibis they have NOTHING on me, that Detective Grateson is a pain in the arse but let's face it, no fool. He knows I did it but can't prove it. Bad Luck Fatty.