“Oh, good, you’re awake. Have a seat at the table and I’ll bring you some breakfast.”
“Okay.”
A minute later I was seated across from Melissa and my mom. Each of us had a heaping plate of food and mugs of coffee. I gulped down half the cup before stuffing a piece of bacon in my mouth. I could have wept. Two eggs, over easy, and two pieces of white toast completed the meal. Not wanting to answer any questions and spoil the moment, I ate staring at the table while they talked about unimportant things like the weather, gas prices, and the annoying news anchor on one of the local TV stations.
When our stomachs were full and our plates empty, at least in my case, I pushed back in my chair and prepared for the onslaught. Instead, what we got was a reminder to take it easy, hugs all around, and then my mom was off to do whatever it was she did with her days.
“So what are we going to do today?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but we need to do something fun,” Melissa said.
“Jeez, have you already forgotten what happened to me last night?”
“No, of course not, but nothing horrible like that is going to happen again. I promise.”
The decision was sort of made for us. Just after my mom left the vultures arrived. News vans from all the local TV stations were camped out in the front of the apartment building. Melissa peeked out the sliding door and found a few camped out in the back lot. I grabbed the phone, called the police station, and asked for Jackie.
“Hey, girl, what’s up?”
“There are news vans in the back lot. They’re parked in a tow away zone,” I said.
“So what do you want me to do about it?” Jackie asked.
“Hello?”
“Oh man. No way.”
“Come on. Please,” I said.
“Fine, but I’m telling that man my sister insisted on marrying that you owe him a favor, not me. Got it?”
“Got it. Thanks.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
“So, do you want to go shopping?” Melissa looked at me and grimaced. “Guess not.”
“Thanks to that jackass reporter, I can’t go anywhere. Even if we get away, people are going to recognize me—again.”
“Oh please. Less than half the town watches the news. Of those who do, only about five percent will recognize you and only one percent will realize it’s from the news. The others will just think you go to the same church or whatever.”
As much as I hated to admit it, she was probably right, and even if she wasn’t, I had to escape or I’d go mad. “I like your math.”
“I thought you would.” She grabbed her cell phone and called Elijah and asked him to meet us on the other side of the park by my apartment.
Melissa and I kept watch and fifteen minutes later several tow trucks pulled into the parking lot. Three large guys, who looked like they could carry small cities on their backs, got out and walked over to the offending news vehicles. Finding them empty, they didn’t waste any time. All the vans were loaded and on their way out of the lot before the drivers realized what was happening.
There was a bit of shouting but the drivers were out of luck. They stood staring at the signs warning drivers of just such a fate to anyone dumb enough to park in our lot who did not belong. Amid the chaos, Melissa and I slipped out the patio door and walked casually across the lot to the park. It was filled with parents and kids, making it much easier to blend in. Fortunately for us, Elijah was waiting when we finally made it to the parking lot on the other side of the park. We got in the car and went straight to Melissa’s house, conveniently located in a gated community. Unlike the many other such neighborhoods in our town, this one actually used the gates.
House was such a small word for such an enormous place. Melissa’s home was big enough to fit my entire apartment building a couple of times over with room to spare. She parked me on her patio with a nice view of the in-ground pool and a glass of ice cold lemonade. She left and returned with a stack of paperback mysteries.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit early for that?” I said, pointing at the bottle next to her.
“After the night we had I’d say we’re entitled to do a bit of vodka.”
“I’ll pass for now but keep it handy.”
“No problem. While I was inside Charmaine called. She’s coming over later.”
“Oh jeez, I don’t need two babysitters.”
“Of course not. I don’t think she knows about what happened.”
“Good.”
“Kim…”
“I just mean if she doesn’t, then a whole lot of other people don’t know either.”
“Absolutely.”
“Wait a minute. What aren’t you telling me?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Bull. You always stare at the ground when you lie, and you fiddle with your jewelry.”
“I do not,” she said.
I laughed as she dropped her necklace and put her hand back down at her side.
“Well, hell,” she muttered.
“The truth is easier. Fess up.”
“All right, just remember you wanted to know.”
“Okay.”
“Your favorite reporter is at it again.”
“Now what?”
“He reported about your trip to the hospital.”
“Since when did a hospital visit become news?”
“I don’t know, but I must say, Kim, I’m impressed with how calm and mature you’re being about this.”
“Screw you.”
“Sorry, I would, but you’re not my type, you being female and all.”
“Wow, what a relief.”
Melissa laughed and I laid my head back against the lounge chair and closed my eyes. I opened my eyes and stretched. Ever since I’d been found with the body in Lindsay’s apartment I hadn’t managed to get a full night’s sleep.
***
I looked around. Melissa was nowhere in sight. The pool was a shiny, wet temptation. Though it was one temptation I’d have to ignore. Invigorated from my nap, I got up and went in search of Melissa. I found her in the kitchen and she was not alone. Charmaine, dressed in a pair of white pants and an emerald green blouse, stood pouring soup into bowls. She managed to look completely comfortable in Melissa’s state of the art kitchen where the appliances cost more than my car and a weeklong vacation in the Bahamas.
“Hey, you, good timing, lunch is ready,” Charmaine said.
“Kim, go sit down in the sunroom. We’ll bring everything out there,” Melissa said.
“What can I help with?”
“Plenty,” Charmaine said.
“Nothing right now. Go sit,” Melissa ordered.
Lunch was a salad, baked potato, Diet Coke, and a bowl of chicken noodle soup—the homemade kind, not the stuff in a can that everyone claimed was chicken noodle but tasted more like how my brothers’ feet smelled.
I pushed back from the table. “Okay, I’ve gotten some sun, had a nap, and eaten lunch. So, what’s up?”
Melissa looked at Charmaine and shook her head no.
“Spill it.”
“My sister, Shandra, is being blackmailed by her no good ex-boyfriend, Irving the Third. We need your help.”
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting her to say but that sure as heck wasn’t it. “What?”
Charmaine went on to explain how her sister’s ex-boyfriend had taken nude photos of her while she slept and now wanted money for the revealing pictures or he’d put them on the Internet. Shandra was an assistant district attorney. If those pictures were leaked, they would be extremely damaging to her career.
“What does he want?” I asked.
“Five thousand dollars.”
“Well, he sure is a greedy bastard.”
“I’ll gladly give her the money,” Melissa said.
“You know my sister wouldn’t take money from you or anyone else.”
“She’s going to have to. There aren’t any other options. She has to pa
y this jerk.”
“No,” Charmaine and I said in unison.
“Why not?” Melissa asked.
“Because if she pays this jerk, what’s to stop him from coming back next month? Or the month after that and the next month?”
“Okay, I get it, but what else can we do?”
“Simple. It’s time for a little breaking and entering.”
“Nice,” said Charmaine.
“Well, we’ll need help,” Melissa said.
“Sorry, but there’s no we, it’s just me,” I said.
“Come on. Let me help. She’s my friend too,” Melissa said.
“What about me? She’s my sister.”
“Which is why you will be nowhere near his place,” I said.
“But—”
“Because, you’ll be busy providing her with an airtight alibi, a very public alibi,” I interrupted.
“Ooh, nice. I like the way your devious mind works,” Charmaine said.
“Thank you. I think.”
“So when does he need the money?” Melissa asked.
“He’s giving her until the end of next week.”
“Wow, how generous of him to give her time,” I said.
“We did try to warn her about him.”
“Not now, Melissa.”
“You’re right. Sorry.”
“Okay, I’ll want to go in at night. Not too late or too early,” I said.
“According to his Facebook page, he’s going to be at a bachelor party tonight.”
“Tonight? That doesn’t give us much time,” Melissa said.
“Me. It doesn’t give me much time. That’s okay, it should work.”
“Fine, but I’m coming with you, and I don’t want to hear a word about it.”
Taking Melissa anywhere was like trying to sneak the entire football team into your bedroom without your parents noticing. I was about to tell her this but stopped once I looked at her face. As was typical with my friends when one of us was in trouble, we could always count on the others to be there for us. How many people were lucky enough to have a friend willing to do a little B and E with them on such short notice?
“Sure.”
“Yay. I have the perfect outfit.”
Of that I had no doubt.
The three of us spent the next twenty minutes gathering as much information as we could. Charmaine called and convinced, or rather harassed, Shandra into having dinner at a restaurant conveniently located across from the Lakeview police station. When in need of an alibi, what better place than a restaurant filled with cops?
With our plans for the evening in place, Charmaine hugged us goodbye and headed back to her store. While Melissa fiddled with a new story idea, I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting by the pool and finished one of Toni McGee Causey’s books. I lasted an entire fifteen minutes before I picked up another book and began to read again. Paranormal romance wasn’t really my thing, but I found my face glued to Jennifer Lyon’s latest one.
At four o’clock Melissa drove to my apartment. She was back half an hour later with everything on my list. A nice surprise was that all the news vans were gone, not just the ones I’d gotten towed away. Hopefully, they were off to bigger and better stories, which was good for me but completely horrendous for whoever they had swooped in on now. With enough problems of my own to fill a dinner plate and the entire salad bar at Wendy’s, I didn’t have much time or energy to worry about who that other person might be. At least not right now.
Melissa hurried off to her room to get changed while I used one of the six guest bathrooms. A few minutes later I stepped out and screamed. Standing five inches from me dressed in black pants, a black turtleneck, and a ski mask was, I dearly hoped, Melissa.
“Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you?”
A hand reached up and yanked off the mask, revealing my friend.
“Lighten up, Kim. I thought this was appropriate for a cat burglar.”
“First, we’re not cat burglars. We’re going to the loser’s place to get the pictures, that’s it. Second, it’s summer and it won’t get dark for another three hours. And third, a ski mask is going a bit too far. Don’t you think?”
“I guess. You know you used to be a bit more fun.”
“I guess I’m having a bad week.”
“Really? It seems pretty typical for you lately, anyway.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
“Sorry.”
“Why? It’s not your fault I’ve become a trouble magnet.”
“Well, we all have our strengths.”
“True. I guess yours would be looking like a bad guy in a comic book.” I pointed at her outfit.
“Funny. Fine, Kim, I’ll change. I can take a hint.”
A few minutes later and dressed in normal clothes, jeans and a shirt, Melissa led me to the garage. For a brief moment I feared she intended we take the Rolls Royce, but instead she led me to a newer model white Toyota Corolla.
“Where did this come from?”
“A friend of a friend’s cousin’s brother-in-law.”
“What?”
“Trust me. You don’t want to know.”
She was probably right so I let it go. Besides, there was a more urgent matter at hand. “Fine, but I’m driving.”
“Kim, that’s not fair.”
“What wouldn’t be fair is if your driving got us killed before we could help our friend.”
“I’m not that bad.”
I covered my mouth with my hand and coughed the word bullshit. She simply rolled her eyes at me then handed me the keys. “Thanks.”
The loser’s apartment was ten minutes south of Melissa’s house and just past the Victoria’s Secret call center. Now, I appreciated a good push-up bra like anybody else, but how much underwear could the world’s women order that kept that parking lot packed twenty-four hours a day?
We parked on the street two buildings down from the one we needed. Trying to walk casually down the street when you knew you were about to do something illegal was a bit easier than one would imagine, especially if you’ve had lots of practice. You just needed to get yourself in the right frame of mind. What almost always worked for me was the terrifying thought of getting arrested and having to share a toilet, out in the open, with a cellmate named Big Betty, and I didn’t mean Betty White. I had no idea what Melissa’s motivation was, but since she wasn’t giving off any scared shitless vibes, she must have been okay.
The loser lived in a three-story, orange brick building with beige siding and matching shutters. Three white steps led up to the front door. Inside the entryway the walls were painted a pastel blue with a flower wallpaper border. Irving had invited Shandra’s friends over for a small party shortly after they started dating. I hadn’t been all that impressed but had kept my opinion to myself. He had seemed friendly enough, but, for whatever reason, in the seven months they had been together, I’d never changed my mind about him. I only wished for Shandra’s sake I’d been wrong.
The apartment we needed was on the top floor, but since the building didn’t have an elevator I gladly led the way up the three flights of stairs. When we got to the top I was pleased to be able to talk and breathe without huffing and puffing. It appeared the workouts were actually working. Damn, now there was no excuse to quit. I glanced over at Melissa and my impressive feat no longer seemed quite as impressive as she appeared ready to climb a few more flights.
Melissa knocked on the door and waited. No one answered. She tried again just to make sure. When again there was no answer, Melissa moved to stand behind me as both a shield and a lookout. I used a set of tools that if found in my possession would be an automatic trip to the pokey. In less than thirty seconds I had picked the lock, gotten us both inside, and deactivated the alarm.
“Wow, Kim, how did you do that so fast?”
“Practice. Lots and lots of practice.”
She arched her eyebrows at me.
“Here, put these on,” I said, hand
ing her a pair of latex gloves.”
“Ooh, thanks. With his obvious lack of housekeeping skills, I was a bit worried about catching something.”
“They’re so we don’t leave any fingerprints. Also, be careful not to disturb the dust.”
“You know, this takes a whole lot more than I thought.”
“Exactly. Now, let’s get this done before he comes home.”
“Kim, relax. He’s at a bachelor party. He won’t be home for hours, and when he does make it home he’ll be too drunk to notice us. Hell, he’d probably think we were the strippers.”
“Oh, wow, getting mistaken for a stripper. What a lucky day.”
The apartment was just how I remembered it, except now there was a thin layer of dust on everything, dirty dishes were piled in the sink, and a laundry hamper overflowed with dirty clothes.
“Yuck. This guy lives like my ex,” Melissa said.
“Which one?”
“Number two, Miss Smart-ass.”
“Nice mouth.”
“Thanks.”
I sent Melissa off to search the bedroom and bathroom while I tackled the living room, kitchen, and dining room. The place was small and unlike my great aunts’, who insisted every flat surface was a place to show off some piece of crap they had picked up from a flea market. Without having to pick through a ton of knickknacks and crap, I made quick work of finding the loser’s camera and laptop.
“Hey, Kim, come here.”
“Hold on a sec.”
“I really need you to come here. Now.”
“Okay, okay.”
I walked back to the bedroom and found Melissa standing in front of the dresser with the bottom drawer open.
“You are not going to believe this.”
“What?”
Instead of answering, she pointed at the open drawer. I walked over and leaned down to take a look.
“Oh jeez!” I straightened up and took two steps back, trying to put some distance between myself and the drawer full of sex toys. I didn’t consider myself a prude but that didn’t mean I wanted to be up close with someone else’s things. I also didn’t want to consider my friend and that drawer, but what really bothered me were the photos of women—some were naked, others were wearing costumes. “We need to take those.”
Death By High Heels (The Kim Murphy PI Series Book 1) Page 16
