Secrets and Stilettos (Murder In Style Book 1)

by Gina LaManna

  “I’m not taking your boots.”

  “You’ll freeze and lose all your toes and break an ankle if you try to walk home in those ridiculous heels,” Allie said. “It’s not as fun to only have seven toenails to paint because you lost three to frostbite.”

  I considered briefly what seven toenails would look like as opposed to ten and winced. “Why are you doing this for me?”

  “Because we’re friends,” she said softly. “Come on, I’m going to head out.”

  “I’m not taking your shoes.”

  “Do it for me then,” she said with a cheeky smile. “Because I want to wear your shoes for a night. They’re very gorgeous, and if you hadn’t bought them, I would have.”

  “Aren’t they perfect?” I showed them off and returned her smile. “Allie, I believe you. I just wish you’d tell me the truth. Where were you at the time of Grant’s murder?”

  “I can’t,” she said. “And I know you trust me, but this is the way things will have to be for now. Shoes now, or the deal’s off. Do it for me.”

  I knew she was manipulating me, but we sat down on the edge of the stairs and traded shoes. Allie spent a good deal of time studying the way my red heels looked on her feet and preened under my approving gaze.

  “I think I got the better end of this deal,” she said, standing and wobbling once before steadying herself. “I’ll take the boots back tomorrow—I have another pair at home.”

  “Friends?” I asked her.

  “Friends,” she said, and gave me a hug.

  Then she disappeared, and I began the lonely walk home.

  Except I wasn’t destined to be alone for long.

  Chapter 19

  I trudged along having a full-on pity party for myself. Snowbanks were piled on either side of me, the wind whipped at any exposed skin, and as it turned out—the oh-so-trendy jacket I’d picked up from my mother’s shop did a horrible job of keeping out the biting breeze. I was beginning to understand that in wintry weather, looks weren’t everything when it came to clothes. A depressing realization.

  The thought brought on even more melancholy visions. I’d be stuffed into a fat old jacket soon enough with a furry hat the size of a pumpkin. My feet would be shoved into things that gave me the whole Big Foot vibe and my legs would be hidden completely by some drab, dull fabric that blended in with everyone else’s attire.

  Snowflakes drifted and swirled, some of them landing on my eyelashes and icing over so it was difficult to blink. My walk home was less than a mile, and on a pleasant night, it would’ve been an absolute joy.

  I passed the main drag with a few lingering lights twinkling in windows. June’s café gleamed merrily with fairy lights, though the sign out front deemed it long past closing time. My mother’s shop, Mrs. Beasley’s knitting store, and the local market all sat quiet and snuggled in for sleep.

  Only the Blue Tavern sat open, where Frankie the cabbie could be heard regaling the other poor souls with his rendition of 80’s power ballads. For a moment, I debated ducking inside to warm up. I could give my mother a call and send for Sid to pick me up. He’d be quiet and apologetic. I liked Sid for that very reason.

  But sheer stubbornness kept me going. I wasn’t going to forfeit my independence just because of a little cold. If Gran, an ancient specimen of a human being, had managed to live through these winters up until the day she died, I could do it too. I was a strapping (in theory) young woman with energy (re: caffeine) to plow through. Plus, if I burned calories trudging through snow, I could have a second hot chocolate today and still fit into my clothes...if my suitcases were ever returned.

  With newfound resolve, I turned onto the slightly darker street that led into the residential section of Blueberry Lake. I’d made it thirteen steps exactly when I saw the headlights swing onto the road. My mother happened to think thirteen was her lucky number, but it certainly wasn’t mine.

  As I spun to face the headlights, I threw an arm up over my eyes to shield the glare, waving with my other arm to alert the driver of my presence. Too late, I realized the car hadn’t missed seeing me in the dark...they were aiming for me. I yelped as the car leaped onto the sidewalk and plowed straight for me, hurtling past the snowbanks with a disgusting scrape of its bottom against snow, ice, cement—something screechy.

  I froze for several long, painful moments before instinct and adrenaline kicked in. With mere seconds to spare, I took a flying leap toward the snowbank and landed on a hardpacked pile of the stuff while the car’s front rammed against the icy slope just inches from my face. I could smell the burnt rubber.

  I continued to roll, down and away, even as the car cranked itself back onto the road in reverse. For a split second it paused, and I wondered if the person or persons inside were having a debate about whether to come after me.

  “Please go, please,” I muttered, scrambling further away from the road.

  Beyond the snowplowed banks was a stretch of grasses, currently covered in snow, that cozied up against a line of trees that quickly turned into a light forest. It was the same bunch of trees that butted up to the back of my property. I didn’t exactly fancy disappearing into a dark wood at night, but I’d prefer that to ending up squished against the road with tire prints running down my back.

  I was a fairly easy-to-please person, I thought. I only asked that people didn’t run me over or chase me into a dark forest at night. And for people to not accuse me of a murder I didn’t commit. That’s all I asked, and yet, it seemed I asked too much.

  Hesitating, my cheek against the cool snow, I stayed tucked into the shadows. After what felt like an eternity, the sound of tires screeching signaled the car’s decision to leave the scene, and I collapsed in relief as a spray of snow flitted down on top of me.

  As I lay still, trembling and chilled, my heart pumping a million miles an hour, it was all I could do not to give up entirely. A part of me wanted to close my eyes and just rest, just stay here, waiting for somebody to arrive and tell me everything had been a joke. Unfortunately, I couldn’t let myself do any such thing because I was wearing ugly boots, and I refused to be found dead of frostbite while wearing ugly shoes.

  As I listened to the thump of my heart, I did my best to hold back the last vestiges of panic as a list started forming in my head of the day’s awful events.

  Someone had broken into my house this morning.

  Someone had tried to run me down this evening.

  Either I was doing something wrong...

  Or I was doing something very, very right.

  When the sound of a car engine rumbled beyond the snowbank, my body tensed, and I burrowed deeper into the snow. They’d come back to finish me off!

  It was only after a familiar voice pricked through the snow that I scrambled to my feet and blinked my eyes against a second, more friendly set of headlights.

  “Matt?” I called. “Matt, is that you?”

  “Jenna?!” My neighbor’s tall, familiar figure plunged through the snowbank with absolutely no regard for his clothes.

  “Stop,” I called. “Wait there! You’ll ruin your shoes, and those are such beautiful shoes.”

  “Oh, Jenna,” he said, letting out a guttural laugh that sounded like a sigh. “I’m glad to see you’re okay.”

  “I’m not okay—I’m upset,” I said crossly, “but your shoes seriously won’t be okay if you go any further. Let me come to you.”

  Matt didn’t listen to a word I said, stomping his beautiful shoes straight through the snow until he reached me. He opened his arms, tentatively at first, but when I leaned against him, he wrapped me in a tight embrace.

  “Everyone was so worried about you! Why’d you bug out right after the show?”

  “It felt like everyone was upset with me. You walked out mid-bingo, Cooper disappeared, May looked annoyed...”

  “Cooper got a call from the station. He stepped into the hallway to take it, and by the time he returned, you’d gone. He practically sent out a town-wide sear
ch party for you and the only reason he didn’t was because your mother might’ve had a heart attack if she thought you were missing.”

  “And you?”

  “Yeah,” he said with a small grin. “I was a little frustrated at the thought of you getting together so quickly with Coop, so I stalked out. But Cooper called and asked for my help in looking for you.”

  “He did?”

  “He was really worried. You weren’t answering your phone, and he couldn’t find you at the bingo hall.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I hadn’t realized my phone was on silent. And I thought everyone had left already.”

  “It’s only Cooper and I who were looking for you,” he said. “I thought you might’ve tried to make the walk home, so I came this way. Cooper followed a different route.”

  “Thank you,” I said, resting against his chest. For the first time in all this, I shivered. “Man, it’s cold out here.”

  “Come on, you’re soaked through. We need to get you home.”

  “Oh, you mean the house that was broken into earlier this evening?” I said dryly. “Real joy. I’d stay with my mother, but ugh—I’d really prefer not to.”

  “I do have the magic blanket,” Matt said. “You can take the bed, and I’ll take the couch if you want to come over.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I said. “I’m a big girl. It’s just annoying people are so determined to run me over and frame me for murder when I didn’t do anything but move home.”

  “Is that why you’re in the middle of a snowy field?” Matt stepped back, holding me at arm’s length from his body. “I thought you were trying a stupid shortcut through the woods and got lost.”

  I shook my head. My teeth had begun chattering, and I was finding it more and more difficult to talk. Waving an arm, I dragged Matt up the embankment and onto the sidewalk where I pointed out the tire tracks and explained the events that had driven me off the road.

  “I have to call Coop,” he said, his face drawn. “This is serious, Jenna—are you sure whoever was driving didn’t just skid and lose control?”

  “Does it look like they skidded?” I pointed out the tire tracks. There was no ice underneath, and the marks showed a steady curve of the wheel. “No, they jumped the curb, then pulled around to wait after I dodged over the snowbank. I think they must have seen you coming. That’s what made them take off.”

  “You say ‘them’—did you see how many people were in the car?”

  I winced. “No, I didn’t see much of anything. The color of the car was dark, and the plate had blue writing.”

  “So, it had a Minnesota license plate,” he said. “Like every car in town. Was it black? Blue? Deep purple?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I glanced right at it, and it was like staring into a spotlight. I saw stars and I jumped. I don’t know if it was maroon, blue, black, navy, what have you. I don’t know if one person was driving or if there was a car full of people.”

  “Get in,” he demanded, gesturing toward his vehicle. “I’m taking you home.”

  I decided not to argue since there was a good chance I wouldn’t be able to work my limbs properly enough to walk home anyway. I was trembling, shaking, wet, terrified, furious—a bit of everything, and I decided that for once tonight, I’d take the easy road and get a lift home from my handsome neighbor.

  When Matt got in the car, his face was grim. “Coop’s on his way. In the meantime, you’re coming with me.”

  “Um—”

  “Please don’t argue. You can use my shower and sleep in the bed—I’ll take the couch. Don’t tell me you actually want to stay home alone tonight?”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “I’m a grown woman.”

  “I have hot chocolate,” he wheedled. “Just pop over with me and shower while I prepare it. Your teeth are chattering. Plus, you’ll have to talk to Cooper anyway when he arrives, and I told him to meet at my place.”

  “I can’t believe you guys are on speaking terms after everything.”

  “I told you, I respect the guy and the way he does his job,” Matt said evenly. “That doesn’t mean we don’t indulge in a little friendly competition.”

  “Friendly competition.” I snorted. “Right.”

  “But when things really matter,” he said, his face turning sober, “we work together. We’re all in this together, after all. Blueberry Lake ain’t that big.”

  “So I’ve noticed.”

  “What do you say about the hot chocolate?”

  “Do you have marshmallows?”

  “Let’s just say I don’t do instant hot chocolate—I do gourmet,” he said. “June’s recipe.”

  “Fine,” I said with an exaggerated sigh. “Twist my arm.”

  Chapter 20

  I shuffled straight into Matt’s shower, pleasantly surprised to find his bathroom actually quite clean—not just bachelor pad clean. He would make one lucky lady very happy someday, I thought, noting his neat selection of spare toothbrushes, flosses, soaps and shampoos. He had a real thing for hygiene that a girl could appreciate, unlike some of the men I’d dated in the past.

  Standing under the hot stream of water easily became my favorite part of the evening. I let it cascade over my shoulders, drip through my hair, splash against my face. I stood there until the warm water ran out, and then I stepped from the shower and relaxed in the makeshift steam room. I purposefully hadn’t turned on the fan, so the entire bathroom had become a sauna. I was sweating by the time I wrapped a towel around my hair and applied lotion to my wind-chapped skin.

  My skin was so dry and broken that the lotion brought tears to my eyes as it stung, and only once I’d let it soak in completely, did I start to feel normal again. I shuffled into a BLFD (Blueberry Lake Fire Department) T-shirt—borrowed from Matt. It smelled deliciously like fresh laundry, as did the sweatpants he’d loaned me. I looked like I’d put two pillowcases over my legs, but I didn’t care. I’d never been more comfortable.

  As I opened the bathroom door, a rush of steam cascaded out, making me feel like a genie as I appeared in the hallway. I was aware as I moved that I smelled distinctly like Matt—his shampoo, his soap, his lotion. It was odd. I couldn’t decide if I liked the feeling, or if it weirded me out.

  I walked delicately into the kitchen, my bare feet trudging along and finding the carpeted floor surprisingly soft against my feet. It’d been vacuumed recently, and once again, I was taken by Matt’s sparse but dedicated housekeeping skills. With a bit of a woman’s touch around here, this place could really shine.

  “That was the best shower of my life,” I said, as I rounded the corner to the kitchen where I could hear the clattering of pans and smell the thick, creamy hot chocolate. “I don’t know what it was, but—oh, hello.”

  Cooper and Matt stood shoulder to shoulder across the island in the kitchen. It was clear they’d been talking in low voices, and I’d interrupted with my appearance. Two mugs had turned into three on the counter, and as we all waited in suspended silence, a slow glub of chocolate bubbled on the stove behind the men.

  Matt leapt to attention and grabbed a spoon. “That’ll be done then,” he said, stirring. “Take a seat, Jenna.”

  I did as he said, feeling watched, as if I were standing naked in front of a live audience, while Cooper scanned me from head to toe. I could tell he was trying to hide all expression from his eyes, but there was a glint of something raw and possessive in his gaze when it landed on the firefighter T-shirt and the sweatpants that were so obviously not mine.

  “I have an extra sweatshirt in the car if you need,” Cooper said eventually. “You might be cold in a T-shirt.”

  “Um, I’m fine,” I said. “I don’t plan on staying here long. Also, my house is next door. We were just waiting for you, and Matt promised me hot chocolate, so...”

  “Right,” Cooper said. A look passed between them that made Cooper all growly as he turned to face me. “Tell me exactly what happened tonight. Every step of the way
after you left the stage.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Well, when I saw you’d left—”

  “I didn’t leave,” Cooper said. “I stepped into the hallway to take a call from the station, and you scrambled out of the place before I could find you.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “I thought you were upset with me.”

  “I was, but I never would have left you alone without a ride,” he said looking mystified. “You think I’d do that?”

  “I didn’t really think, to be clear,” I said. “I was stressed. It was a very stressful event.”

  “Weren’t you wearing shoes before?” Cooper asked.

  “Shoes?” I shook my head. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “I distinctly remember you had on those red, ah...” he trailed off at the look on Matt’s face. “I noticed a pair of ladies’ boots in the doorway. When did you change?”

  “Long story,” I said with a sigh. “Let me get some hot chocolate, and then we’ll talk.”

  Matt pulled out the marshmallows and dumped some in a bowl. We each helped ourselves in a tense silence. Once I’d filled my mug to the brim and took a few long, indulgent sips, I crossed my legs onto the stool and launched into my version of the evening’s events.

  I covered my brief interaction with Allie, her lack of alibi as well as my firm belief that she wasn’t a murderer. The rest of the story made for quick work as I described my jaunt back through town with as much detail as I could remember, although admittedly, it was not much.

  “You don’t remember the color of the vehicle—except that it was darkish,” Cooper said, raising an eyebrow. “You have no clue who was in the car or how many people. Nor can you tell me the make, model, or even type of car.”

  “It was a regular old car,” I said assuredly. “Not like, a van or something.”

  Matt and Cooper exchanged a manly sort of look that I couldn’t decipher.