“We need somewhere quieter.” Bonnie takes my wrist and tugs me further down the walkway to a set of stairs that lead down to a lower level filled with concessions and bathrooms. Pointing to an area with picnic tables, I follow her, doing my best to wait until we’re seated.
The second we are, I ask again. “Is she here?”
“No. She’s not here.”
“Where is she? Is she hurt?”
“When was the last time you spoke to her?”
“Fourth of July.”
Bonnie’s face morphs. She’s angry. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Me?” I squeak. “She wanted time. I gave it to her.”
“You haven’t spoken to her in over six weeks?” Bonnie’s voice has gotten significantly higher.
“Forty-seven days.” But who’s counting?
Me, apparently.
“Oh my God, Hudson. Whenever I asked her about you, she was evasive, but I’m used to that with her.” She growls. “I should’ve known.”
“Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”
“I’m a terrible best friend.” Bonnie’s eyes start to get glassy. “She won’t see me,” she adds as a tear makes its way down her cheek.
“Tell. Me. What’s going on, Bonnie.” If she doesn’t speak up, I’m going to leave right now and drive like a bat out of hell to Willa’s apartment. “Speak, woman.”
“She got fired.”
Fuck. “I was afraid of that.”
“She told you about Spencer? About the gifts?”
“Some. She told me she’d been written up for bullshit reasons.”
“Yeah, well, after she called human resources, they met with him, but nothing happened to him. He retaliated against her.”
Not surprised. “She could sue for that, considering she placed a formal complaint.” Bonnie stares at me.
“I don’t think it was formal. She called HR. They spoke to Spencer. That’s it.”
“Didn’t she file anything in writing? Didn’t human resources insist upon it?”
Bonnie’s head moves back and forth slowly. “I was there when she called. They didn’t ask her to do anything in writing.” Suddenly, Bonnie starts hitting her palm against her forehead. “I’m so stupid. I should have told her to make a written complaint.”
“That’s human resources’ job. Do you remember who she spoke to?”
“Gail.” I pull my phone out and type that name into my notes. Looking up at Bonnie, I attempt a smile. “I’ll take care of it.”
“That’s not all.”
“No?” Shit.
“She hasn’t been able to find a job. I’m sure someone at McAllister is responsible. She’s talented, rarely made mistakes, and took pride in her work.”
Of course she did.
