“Shush. You’ll wake Cruz.”
“Cruz can sleep through an explosion.”
She looked at Luke’s face, bathed in the moonlight.
“My life is a train wreck, Luke. I’m not ready for any more complications.”
“I’ll take what I can get,” Luke said.
“My best friend is dead.”
“That’s why I’m here. I knew you needed me.”
Flippy’s mind might not be ready, but her body was drowsy and vulnerable, her nipples taut and her breasts suddenly hungering to be stroked. She needed to feel alive. Her tongue was dying to taste Luke’s lips again. And there were other parts of her body she wanted Luke to taste again, as well. A pool of liquid formed in her lower parts, parts that weren’t wearing panties. If he didn’t touch her again, and soon, she was going to disintegrate. She stretched her arms, dying to reach for him, wanting to lose herself in him.
“Flippy,” Luke pleaded, his eyes going dark.
But somebody had to be the adult here. After all, this wasn’t an X-rated slumber party. It was a murder investigation. She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped herself in the bedsheet.
“I’m sorry, Luke. It’s just not right, the right time, I mean.”
Luke finally looked away from her. “Goodnight, girls,” he sighed regretfully and slipped silently out of the room. He really was a Boy Scout.
Chapter Nine
“What are you doing here?” Flippy snarled as she walked into her reception area and found Luke sitting in her receptionist’s chair.
“I’m relieving Misty,” Luke replied innocently.
“More importantly, what are you doing here?” Luke bristled. I left you in bed. I mean sleeping. You were so exhausted I thought I’d let you sleep in. And how did you get here anyway? I was going to come back and pick you up after my test.”
“I hitched a ride.”
“You hitched? Are you crazy? There’s a serial killer out there, and you hitched?”
“Don’t lecture me. You were the one who suggested I leave my car here, Mr. Brilliant. You left to take your test, so how was I supposed to get to work?”
“I told you I was planning to pick you up. And I had you covered, don’t worry.”
“You had me covered? I didn’t see anyone lurking about.”
“That’s why they call it under cover. You’re not supposed to see them.”
“Admit it, you don’t have anyone watching me. Which is fine. I told you I don’t need your protection.”
“Calm down.”
“And where’s Misty?”
“She’s working at DaVinci’s.”
“DaVinci’s? But she works for me. What is she doing back there?”
“Apparently she and the owner are tight and he was short-handed, so she offered to work for a few hours.”
Flippy sighed. Her talk with Misty was long overdue. The girl had a lot to learn about responsibility. This wasn’t some part-time job. Maybe she was being too bitchy. Probably because she had a ton of things to attend to, and she had gotten a late start. And she was hungry. She hadn’t eaten breakfast, and worse, she’d had no transportation to the doughnut shop, so the men living in front of her office were going to go hungry too.
“Did you take your exam?”
“I did. I’m just glad it’s over.”
“How do you think you did?”
“Hard to say. I didn’t get enough studying time in, but you never know.”
“You didn’t have to do this. You’re just babysitting me, and it’s not necessary.”
“I told you. You’re stuck with me unless I have class, and then you get my replacement.”
“How am I supposed to recognize your replacement?”
“You’re not, if he’s doing his job correctly. You got some messages,” Luke said. “More than a dozen media calls.”
“That was nice of you. But you shouldn’t be spending time answering my phone and taking messages. I have an office to run and we have a case to solve.”
“As I keep telling you, you don’t have a case to solve. I do. And someone else called.”
“Who?”
“Number 10, Big Jack.”
“Not again. What did he want?”
“Has he been harassing you?” Laid Back Luke uncoiled, baring his fangs, and almost sprang out of Misty’s seat.
“His prior messages say he wants me back. He apparently hasn’t received the memo yet that I don’t tolerate cheaters. He’s confusing me with my mother.”
Luke was not touching that subject with a ten-foot pole.
“I told him to stop calling you, and then I told him about Traci. He was going to hear it on the news anyway.”
“How did he react?”
“He was genuinely upset. I told him I knew what he’d done, how he’d cheated on the best thing he ever had with his girl’s best friend.”
“Luke, you had no right to get into that with him. That’s a private matter.”
“The guy is eaten up with guilt, I’ll give him that.”
“What else did you tell him?”
“I told him to leave you alone and stop calling.”
“And?”
“And that you were with me now.”
Flippy sagged. “Luke, that’s a lie.”
“I know that, but he doesn’t. You want him to stop harassing you, don’t you? So I told him you’d moved on, with me.”
“He’s going to need someone. I’m sure he’s torn up about Traci. First he lost Major, then me, and now he feels responsible somehow for Traci’s death.”
“He’s not your problem now,” Luke said. “Did you find out anything in your research last night?”
Flippy sat on the end of Misty’s desk.
“Just the basic run-of-the-mill stuff on serial killers. The first one I came across was Danny Rolling.”
“The Gainesville Ripper.”
“Yes, the guy who mutilated five students in Gainesville, Florida, in August 1990. And then there was Ted Bundy, who raped and murdered several young girls at a sorority house in Tallahassee. There was also a lot of information about the Virginia Tech shootings and the fatal shootings of the UNC and Auburn coeds in March 2008. But other than that, no leads. Then I fell asleep. But reading all that research about serial killers must have given me nightmares. Because when I woke up I had this sickening thought. What if it’s not a he? What if the killer we’re looking for is a she? Did you ever think of that, Luke?”
“It’s probably not a woman,” Luke said. “Female serial killers are rare. More often than not, they kill for money, and nothing major was stolen from these victims.”
“Except their lives,” she felt obliged to point out.
“But poison is a woman’s typical weapon of choice,” Luke said.
“Didn’t we learn in criminology class that female serial killers may be more common than we know because they’re pretty good at what they do? They’re just harder to catch and they leave fewer clues.”
“That’s true, so we can’t rule out that possibility,” Luke agreed.
“Why would a woman do something like this?”
“Envy?” Luke suggested. “It would take a hell of a sick person, man or woman, to do what was done to those girls.”
On that point they were in total agreement. Flippy shuddered just thinking about it.
Luke got up from the torn leather swivel chair, and his hands were making sympathetic forays in her direction.
“You know, no one is expecting you to solve this case,” he said. “That’s not your role here. A lot of us have been working a lot of hours, and we’ve come up with nothing. It’s not all on your shoulders.”
“Luke, my boss hired me to consult on this case. I am part of the team. Not to mention that this case is personal to me. I may not be expected to find the killer, but I’m committed to making a contribution.”
“So am I. That’s why it’s so important for us to work together.”
<
br /> “Okay, well what’s your suggestion, partner?”
Luke was obviously at a loss. Flippy was right. They were depending on her and on the psychic detective agency from Atlanta, and right now they had nothing.
“You’re officially relieved of receptionist duty,” she said. “I’ll cover the phones. Now go over to DaVinci’s and tell Misty if she wants to keep her job she’ll get her scantily clad self back here, cover herself up, and cover this office. She was scantily clad, wasn’t she?”
“I didn’t notice,” Luke said, but his dimples gave him away.
“Right. Now go over to DaVinci’s and drag her back if you have to.”
“Yes, boss. It would be a shame to give Misty the boot. I think she adds something to the décor.”
“That’s because she leaves nothing to the imagination and your brains are in your crotch.”
“Then why did you hire her?”
“Maybe I saw something in her. Potential. She’s tough. A little rough around the edges. But her heart is in the right place.”
“And cheap?” Luke guessed.
“Probably in more ways than one.” Flippy grimaced.
“Okay, I’m going, but I hate to leave you alone even for a minute. Are you sure you know what you’re doing, cozying up to those homeless guys outside?” Luke asked.
“Yes, I’m sure. But I dropped the ball this morning. I had no way to get to the doughnut shop. Now they’re probably hungry as well as homeless.”
“They’re fine. I just fed them on the way in.”
“You what?”
“I dropped by the doughnut shop on the way over here for some doughnuts, glazed, as ordered.”
“You d-did?” Flippy stammered, staring at Luke and maybe really seeing him for the first time. “Thank you. I really mean that.” Luke was too good to be true.
“You’re welcome. And since I know you probably didn’t have breakfast, I left a couple of glazeds on a napkin on your sorry excuse for a desk.”
“Well, I’m sorry my furniture is not up to your standards.”
“Flippy, I think your desk is infested.”
“It may be, but I don’t care. It’s my desk.”
“If you don’t eat those doughnuts soon, they’re going to be carried away by the ants or the rats. I can give you some money to buy a new one.”
“First of all, that desk is the property of the campus police. And I wouldn’t take money from you. And if I had any extra money, I’d save it for a rainy day.”
“A rainy day?”
“You know, for emergencies.”
“Your desk qualifies as an emergency. This office qualifies as an emergency. And your apartment can’t even be resuscitated.”
“All right. Just say it. I’m a loser.”
“You’re not a loser. I didn’t mean that. It’s none of my business.”
“Well you seem to stick your nose in my business on a regular basis.”
“I’m just watching out for you. If you don’t want the doughnuts, I’ll eat them.”
“Is food all you ever think of?”
“No,” he answered, looking at her the way he had looked at his burger yesterday. “I actually have a lot on my mind. You want something from DaVinci’s?”
“Too greasy,” Flippy said, remembering what had happened to the remains of the slice she had force-fed herself the day before. But that wasn’t going to stop her from scarfing down the doughnuts on her desk. When Luke wasn’t watching.
“Oh, before I forget,” Luke added. “There was one more message. Some ball buster named Barbara called. And she gave me the third degree. Who am I? Why am I answering your phone? Where is Philippa? Apparently she’s spooked by these murders. Who the hell is Barbara?”
Flippy laughed. “My mother.”
“Sorry, but she’s a piece of work.”
“You have no idea. Barbara elevates high maintenance to an art form.”
“You actually call your mother Barbara?”
“Yes, that way we can maintain the fantasy that I’m her sister. She has trouble acknowledging the fact that she has three grown children. But that doesn’t stop her from being a snoopervisor.”
“What’s a snoopervisor?” Luke took the bait.
“She tries to micromanage every part of my life, pathetic as it is, and she has to know every intimate detail of my comings and goings.”
Except when they were shopping. Barbara was the kind of mother who didn’t subscribe to the philosophy of No Child Left Behind. When Flippy was growing up in Atlanta, her mother left her behind on a regular basis whenever they were in a shopping mall. She’d invariably lose track of her own daughter while she was busy racking up a national debt’s worth of merchandise to spite that daughter’s father. In Barbara’s world, her husband’s job was to make the money and her job was to spend it. And the sum total of Barbara’s purchases reflected the number or intensity of affairs the man was having at the time. If he was being faithful to her, she’d pick up a sexy negligee from Intimacy to reward him. If he was cheating, she would charge up a storm at Tiffany’s to punish him. Needless to say, Flippy and her mother spent a good deal of time at Tiffany’s. Barbara was really good at her job, and shopping was really hard work, so she frequently lost track of Flippy.
She didn’t want to be anything like her mother. About the only thing she had inherited from Barbara was her looks. She loved her mother. But she didn’t know who she least wanted to talk to right now, Barbara or Jack. She decided to start with Barbara.
Flippy wandered into her office and picked up the phone, anxious to get the impending conversation over with. She didn’t need any more complications in her life.
“Barbara? I had a message that you called.”
“You can stop with the façade. I told you that you can call me Mom when there’s no one around.”
“Mom, then. What do you want?” Flippy knew she was being snotty, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself.
“Who was that man who answered the telephone?”
“He’s the new receptionist.”
“A male receptionist?”
“Yes, he’s nice to look at.”
“What ever happened to that Missy person?”
“Her name is Misty,” Flippy corrected. “She went out for pizza and she hasn’t come back.”
“So you’re making enough money now to afford two receptionists?”
“No, Mom, we can barely afford Misty. The campus police are on a tight budget. She had to help out a friend, so Luke was sitting in for her.”
“Who’s Luke?”
“You remember, I told you about him. He was in my criminology classes, and we went to law school together.”
I could feel my mother cringe at the mention of my short-lived law school career.
“You’re not getting anywhere near that Homecoming Homicides case, are you? I hope you’re keeping out of trouble.”
“I’m okay, Mom.”
She was sure her mother had visions of her daughter fraternizing with criminals in her job with the campus police. And actually, she wasn’t far off the mark.
“Have they caught that serial killer yet?” Barbara asked.
“No.” She wasn’t going to tell her mother she was now personally involved in trying to apprehend the serial killer, however peripherally, and that she might be his next target.
“I’m worried about you. I haven’t even seen your new place since you moved out of the sorority house. I want to make sure you’re living in a safe neighborhood, so I’m coming for a visit.” She most definitely hadn’t told her mother where she was living, no matter how many times she tried to pry her address out of her.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Mom. I’m pretty busy right now.”
“Too busy to see your own mother?”
Too busy to let her mother see where she lived and what she did for a living.
“Surprise. Your father has already booked my ticket. He’s probably saliv
ating because I’ll be out of town for a whole weekend and he’s contemplating all the mischief he’s going to get into with his new honey while I’m gone.”
“Mom, why do you put up with his behavior? It’s demeaning.”
“Because he’s your father and, deep down, I know he really loves me.”
“He has a funny way of showing it.” His latest “honey” was Flippy’s age. In fact, she had been a friend of hers.
“I want you to pick me up at that poor excuse of an airport you have there. Third-world countries have better airports than Graysville. After we land, I’ll take you and Jack out to a nice dinner.”
“Mom, how many times have I told you Jack and I aren’t together anymore.”
“Well that’s just because you won’t forgive him for one little transgression.”
“It’s gone way beyond that.”
“I’ll bet he wants to get back together.”
“He has been calling me, but—”
“You should listen to what he has to say, Philippa. He is such a handsome man.”
Beauty’s only skin deep, she wanted to say, but didn’t. Barbara was all about looks.
“You’re right, Mom. Jack is handsome, but he cheated on me. Behind my back, and in front of my eyes, with one of my sorority sisters. You may be able to live with that, but I can’t. And, I may as well tell you, Traci Farris is dead. It’s going to be all over the news today.”
“Traci, that girl in the pageant, your Little Sister in the sorority?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, honey. Was it that serial killer?”
“Yes, it was.”
“You see, that’s another reason I’m coming. Someone needs to take care of you. I told your father that someone needed to watch out for you. I really think you should move back to Atlanta. Graysville is not a safe place.”
“Mom, I have a job here. I’m not moving back, and I’m not running away. And I’m not the one who needs protecting. Who is watching out for you?”
“All men cheat,” Barbara responded.
“No, Mom, I have to believe that some of them don’t.”
“It’s such a shame that Jack had to get hurt.”
“Yes, it is. But he threw all his eggs in one basket, and now he can’t or won’t do anything else with his life. He’s been drinking, Mom.”
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