I made a turkey sandwich with lettuce, tomatoes, mayonnaise, and two slices of bacon. I added a Vlasic dill pickle on the side and a handful, okay, two handfuls of sour cream and onion potato chips. To tie it all together I grabbed a can of Diet Coke.
Once again I ate dinner in front of the TV. I couldn’t resist, an old episode of NCIS was on. After dinner I called and left a message for the geek hottie. I figured it was worth another six pack to find out if there was anything on the SD card that was important. In the kitchen I grabbed the trash bag then took it outside to the dumpsters, careful to make lots of noises as to avoid surprising the family of raccoons who made a habit of getting a free meal from our trash. They were cute, especially the babies, but they were mean as hell.
Back inside my apartment, I locked up and sat down and tried to push all thoughts of bodies, missing people, and reporters out of my head. I was successful for all of about three minutes, though really the last minute and a half I was thinking about ways to make a reporter disappear. Just when I had decided it would be perfectly fine to have the last donut for dessert both the doorbell and phone rang. I ignored the phone and ran to the door. “Hey, Shandra.”
“Don’t you hey me, Kim.”
“Excuse me?”
“You are crazy. Do you have any idea how much legal trouble you would have been in if you had gotten caught? Do you?”
“Could you be a little more specific?” I asked as I made a rather long list of all the things that could have technically been considered illegal.
“You broke into an apartment and stole his things.”
“Oh, that.”
“What did you think I meant? No, never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“That’s a wise decision. As for the other thing, nothing was stolen.”
“Kim, you got rid of the pictures.”
“Technically, I didn’t. But, yes, the pictures should all be gone.”
“You could lose your license.”
“He’s lucky I didn’t take a baseball bat to his face.”
Shandra, dressed in a white skirt and a pink patterned blouse and two-inch sandals, lunged at me. I tried to get away but didn’t move fast enough. Shandra wrapped her arms around me so tight for a moment I feared she would squeeze the breath right out of me like one of those giant anacondas. I tapped her on the back harder and harder each time until she finally got the message and let go. It was funny how much she and Charmaine looked alike yet were so different. Charmaine was fun, laid back, and enjoyed having a good time, while Shandra was a serious-minded, focused, goal-oriented overachiever.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I said once I could speak again.
We talked for a few more minutes then said good night. She hugged me once more then she was out the door.
I checked the answering machine and swore. The voice on the machine was muffled but it was Sara and she was apologizing for her no-show stunt the other night. She said she’d be at Lakeview Cemetery in twenty minutes. She claimed to have information about Brian’s murder and Angie’s disappearance.
When I checked the caller ID it provided me with the useless information that she’d called from an unknown number. I grabbed my purse and headed out, ignoring that annoying voice in my head. Sometimes that bitch just needed to shut up. I arrived at the cemetery with a minute to spare. Parking near the entrance, I tried not to think too hard about how several generations of my family were buried behind those tall gates. Uncomfortable with the thought of playing music, I sat in silence. With the windows down a few inches there was a slight breeze that cooled off the still too warm air. I spent the next fifteen minutes checking my watch and trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling that grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. My heart began to race and the pounding in my ears was about to drive me mad, and not the good kind where you yelled at someone for being an ass. No, this was the kind where they put you in lockdown for forty-eight hours while they determined if you were a threat to yourself or others.
Telling myself that a cemetery was a sad, not scary, place did nothing to alleviate my increasing terror. Ghosts weren’t something I had ever believed in but being in such close proximity to this many people who had passed on seemed like tempting the spirit world, and that was certainly not something I had any interest in being a part of. A gust of wind whipped through the metal gates, the clanking sound was like the dead pushing against the gates to be let free. With that thought, I started the car and took off as fast as I could without risking a three hundred dollar ticket and more unwanted points on my driver’s license.
Back home, I parked in my spot, relieved I was no longer at the cemetery but pissed off that Sara had for the second time asked to meet with me and then bailed. I unlocked the back door and stepped inside. I had only taken three steps when I collided with something, or rather someone. One minute I was standing and the next I was landing on my butt. To be fair, the fall wasn’t too bad with the extra cushion back there, but this had to stop.
I jumped up and ran outside after my rude uninvited guest just in time to see a dark car peal out of the parking lot. It was too dark and my knowledge of car makes and models too limited to tell what kind of car it was. Back inside, I flipped on the lights and screamed. I rushed upstairs and into my home office. My office had, like the downstairs, been searched. It only took a couple of minutes to realize that nothing was stolen. My laptop and camera were still in their places. Next, I went into my bedroom; it too had been searched. I checked the box of tampons and was relieved to see the SD card still safely ensconced inside. As for jewelry, I had only a few pieces and they were also still in the box on my dresser.
With nothing stolen I debated if calling the police was necessary. Frustrated, I called the non-emergency number. Thanks to caller ID I didn’t even have to identify myself. The operator said hello and asked what she could do for me. She promised to send an officer right away.
Over the next two hours I answered questions, filled out a report, and tried to ignore the looks of the crime scene techs who Officer Duncan had insisted come over. When everyone had left I spent the next hour cleaning my apartment to get rid of any and all traces of my intruder. With my home back in order I took a shower, put on a pair of Thumper pajamas, and crawled under the covers. When I began to toss and turn, I went and got my gun and, after checking the safety, slipped it under my pillow.
My phone rang and I froze. Good news never arrived between ten at night and eight in the morning. “Hello.”
“I’m at your front door,” Grant said.
“What’s wrong now?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
While on the phone I had gotten out of bed and made my way downstairs. I opened the door and Grant brushed past me. Heat inched its way across my body.
“You are frustrating,” Grant said.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re also stubborn, opinionated, relentless, and a royal pain in my ass.”
“Well, if you came here looking to impress me with your vocabulary, you shouldn’t have bothered. And so you know, you’re pig-headed, obstinate, and a jerk,” I said.
“You didn’t let me finish.” He pulled me against him and I felt his erection straining against his pants. “You’re also kindhearted, generous, tenacious, and sexy as hell.”
My pulse raced. “Grant…” I whispered.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said as he slowly kissed a trail down my neck. “I promised myself I’d stay away from you until this case was over.”
“I don’t want to wait.”
The words were barely past my lips when Grant picked me up and carried me to my bedroom. He gently placed me on the bed. I reached up and pulled him down on top of me.
“What the hell?”
He pulled his hand out from under the pillow, holding my gun.
“Kim, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”
“Grant, put it in the drawer and help me with your
belt.”
Grant growled as my hand brushed against his erection. He opened the drawer and grinned. “Wow, another gun and a box of condoms. I’m not sure if I should be intrigued or concerned.”
“How about enticed?” I slipped off my pajama top and tossed it across the room.
“Enticed, definitely enticed,” he said.
“Good choice.” I smiled.
Chapter Twelve
Sunday
Grant had gotten a call at five and had to leave. I rolled over and went back to sleep until my alarm went off at seven. Normally I skipped exercising on Sundays but after the week I’d had it wouldn’t hurt to put in the effort. I closed my eyes while I decided what to do. The next time I opened my eyes it was nine o’clock and I was starving. After last night’s workout I wasn’t surprised. Grant had not only taken care of my sexual drought, numerous times, but I was having feelings I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready to have again. For now, I had other things to focus on.
Out of donuts, I made a cheese and mushroom omelet, which I gulped down with the help of several cups of coffee while I read the best part of the newspaper—the comics. I cleaned up the kitchen, ran upstairs, and got dressed. Motivated, I took the SD card from the tampon box and headed over to my favorite geek without bothering to call first. I knew from past experience Ryan spent Sunday mornings, if weather permitted, laying out by his parents’ pool. Sure enough, that was where I found him when I got there. I explained what I needed and promised to bring him a case of beer the following day if he could just do me this favor. Reluctant to leave the poolside, he finally agreed.
Twenty minutes later I was back home, sitting on my couch, looking at all of the pictures that had been on the card. There were only ten pictures, all of which looked to have been taken at the same time. Two of the pictures were like the crumpled ones I’d found at Angie’s and Sara’s. This was the tie to Brian’s and Adam’s murders and Angie’s disappearance. I stared at the pictures until my eyes ached but for the life of me I couldn’t see what was worth murdering someone over. Defeated, I left a message on Grant’s voicemail asking him to call me. I put the pictures and the card in the cabinet above the refrigerator. I had to stand on a chair to reach it but I felt the things would be safe there. I spent the rest of the day running errands, reading, doing absolutely anything to try to keep my mind off of the pictures and Grant’s impending phone call.
When it was time to get ready for my mom’s birthday party, I took a shower, dried off, and even attempted to style my hair. Finished with the makeup, I added a few drops of perfume. I slipped on the new dress and stepped in front of the full length mirror. Not bad. The new shoes looked great. I just hoped my feet would survive the evening in the two-inch heels.
The new purse was great except it was too small to hold my gun. Figuring it was better if I didn’t attend a family function armed, I put my favorite Glock in the bedside drawer before locking up. I chose not to return Lindsay’s call. She would be tomorrow’s problem. I wasn’t sure how I was ever going to be able to look her in the eye again after finding her box of sex toys. I was, however, quite impressed with her collection. It put my own to shame.
For my mom’s fiftieth birthday, my dad had rented a room at one of the banquet halls. It was the only place big enough to hold our family. My mom was the youngest of five and my dad was the oldest of six. I had twenty-five cousins, thirteen female and twelve male. Add in the aunts, uncles, spouses, kids, and family friends and that required a heck of a lot of space.
I parked in the lot behind the building like everyone else. My dad was to bring my mom through the front entrance so she wouldn’t recognize any of our cars. I walked in the door fifteen minutes early. Evidently that wasn’t good enough. As soon as Brenna spotted me, she spent the next five minutes lecturing me about punctuality. At least I thought that was what she was harping about. It was hard to concentrate with that many people milling around.
“Kim…Kim?”
“Huh?”
“Have you listened to a word I said?” Brenna asked.
“Yeah, sure. Look, I need to go find Brandon.”
“He’s not here yet.”
“What? He’s not here and you’re lecturing me? What is wrong with you?”
“I do not lecture.”
“Hah, could have fooled me,” I muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing. You look nice.”
“Thank you.” She looked me up and down as if searching for something to criticize. “So do you,” she finally said.
I took off to look around before she could change her mind. The room was set up a lot like my wedding reception. Lots of round tables with green, my mom’s favorite color, table cloths. I sincerely hoped this ended better than my reception. My new husband got so drunk he got into a fight with his brother in the parking lot. Later at the hotel, he passed out before we could do anything. Our first time as husband and wife was about noon the next day after he had recovered from his hangover and, to be honest, it hadn’t been all that great. It hadn’t helped that he still smelled like cigarettes, sweat, and alcohol.
The room was filled with people I loved here to celebrate my mom’s birthday. It was wonderful, but it made me a bit sad none of my grandparents had lived long enough to see this. They would have loved to see fifteen kids running around the room being chased by their parents. Many families would have been shocked at kids being invited to a fancy dinner but not my family. Kids were to be celebrated, not tucked away somewhere, hidden from view.
At the door, Brenna was waving her hands in the air. No one seemed to pay any attention. I made my way, through the crowd, over to her side. “What’s up?”
“Brandon’s here, finally, and he said Dad just pulled up. We need to get everyone’s attention.”
“No problem.” I turned around and shouted, “Shut up, everybody, they’re here!”
All conversation stopped. A few chuckled at my rude command, but as mortified as my sister appeared at my behavior, she couldn’t dispute the fact it worked. My brothers, sisters-in-law, nieces, nephews, and brother-in-law, appeared around Brenna and me. We would be the first to greet my parents.
They walked in and everyone shouted, “Surprise!” The shock on my mom’s face meant we had actually pulled off the surprise. They looked so good together. My dad was in a black suit and gray tie while my mother had chosen a little black dress that flattered her figure. For accessories she had added her mother’s pearl necklace and a pearl bracelet my dad had given her for their anniversary. She looked amazing. They both did.
We all rushed forward and took our turns hugging the birthday girl. Not long after they arrived everyone was seated for dinner. Michael, Brandon, and I were seated at our parents’ table. Our married siblings sat with their spouses and kids at tables on either side of us. Dinner included our favorite Italian dishes and a few Irish ones thrown in for my dad’s side of the family.
After dinner they began playing music and everyone was encouraged to get out on the dance floor. Saving me from that embarrassment were my three best friends, who joined me at my table. Michael and Brandon had disappeared in search of women or alcohol, I wasn’t sure which, not that it mattered. My parents were dancing and having a good time. Charmaine, Shandra, and Melissa spent the next half hour talking about nothing important. It was wonderful. Family and friends stopped by to say hello. Mercifully no one mentioned the case or my lack of a current boyfriend. In my family most women were married with children before they were thirty. As I was twenty-eight, I was coming up on an unofficial deadline.
I needed a bathroom break and my friends were eager to dance. I promised I’d catch up with them and headed for the back of the room where the women’s restrooms were. A few minutes later I was out and looking around when someone tapped me on the shoulder, I turned and sighed. “Zack, hi.”
“Kim, you look great,” he said, his eyes roaming over me before settling on my face.
“Thanks, you’
re looking good yourself.”
“I do, don’t I?” He laughed. “Nice party. Your dad did a good job.”
“Yes, he did. Well, Dad and Brenna.”
“Not you?”
“Did you really think Brenna would trust me with something as important as tablecloths or seating arrangements?
“I think you could have handled it. Are you here with anyone?”
“Yeah, my whole family.”
“You know what I meant.”
“I’m not crazy enough to subject a date to this much of my family all at once.”
Zack laughed. “Your family is awesome. You’re lucky.”
“Yeah, I know. So what about you? Bring anyone?”
“Yes, sort of.” He pointed to a skinny blonde laughing at something my Aunt Josephine said.
“How nice.”
“It’s business. My dad is considering bringing her dad’s law firm into ours. So I agreed to bring her with me tonight.”
“That’s great.” She was the exact type Uncle Charlie would expect Zack to go for. She was beautiful, blonde, wealthy, and probably fertile enough to provide plenty of Wellington grandchildren. Throw in a possible merger as a bonus. Super.
“Dance with me.”
“Zack, shouldn’t you be dancing with that skinny, over-mammaried, bleach blonde you brought?”
“Jealous?”
“Ugh, no.”
“Good.” Zack’s hand closed on my wrist and I found myself being gently escorted onto the dance floor.
“This isn’t a good idea,” I muttered.
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“That’s it, because?”
“You know why.”
“You mean because every time we’re close, we want to rip each other’s clothes off?”
I didn’t even try to deny it. We both knew it was true. The combination of our bodies swaying in motion to the music and his words caused a reaction in me I tried desperately to ignore. There was, however, no way to ignore Zack’s reaction as it was hard and pressed up against me. “Oh jeez, Zack, you’re going to have to do something about that.”
Death By High Heels (The Kim Murphy PI Series Book 1) Page 19
