"You gave me a key," he answered.
I shook my head. "No. I mean, aren't you in jail? Oh God. Did you break out?"
Richard smiled. "No I didn't break out. The DA dropped the murder charges after they arrested Althea and I made bail."
I shook my head. Mr. Chesterton didn't waste any time.
I picked my way carefully over the piles of broken dishes and scattered clothing and sat down hard on my futon. Richard sat down beside me.
"What happened to your arm?" he asked, his voice genuinely filled with concern.
"Your secretary shot me."
"Oh, pumpkin, I'm so sorry." He put an arm around me. I was too tired to protest. Even when he started doing little kissing things on my cheek.
"I missed you so much," he whispered.
I sighed. While it would be so much easier just to hate him, I had to admit, I'd missed him a little too.
"Maddie, look, I know a lot has happened between us," Richard said, taking my hand in his. "But, I just want you to know how much I appreciate everything you've done for me. Chesterton told me how it was you that figured Althea out. I—" He choked up, his eyes misting. "No one else believed me, but you had faith in me."
I bit my lip, refraining from pointing out it wasn't so much faith as fear of having a felon's baby.
"Maddie, I know in the past I've done some stupid things."
Correction—colossally idiotic things.
"But, I want to make it up to you. Chesterton said he thinks he may be able to get me off with just probation if I agree to testify against Althea. It could take a while for the trial, but once this is all over, I want to make it up to you. I want you to move in with me. Being apart like this has shown me just how much I need you in my life and I don't want to be away from you again."
I held up my hands. "Wait, move in with you? This is all moving too fast."
"Too fast?" His puppy dog eyes looked up at me.
"Richard, you're married!"
"I had the divorce papers drawn up today."
Ouch. Poor Cinderella.
"Maddie, I know things have been crazy. But, believe me, you're the only one for me."
I shook my head, a migraine brewing behind my eyes. "Richard, I…I need time to think about this."
His shoulders sagged, but he nodded. "Of course. Take all the time you need."
I stood and walked him to the door, careful not to trip over my abused slingbacks, as he said goodnight and slipped out into the predawn light. I locked the door behind him, leaning against it with a sigh.
Bad Cop or Ken Doll?
Richard had happily ever after stamped all over his designer slacks. Once the trial passed and the divorce went through, I could easily see a house in the suburbs in Richard's future. Ramirez, on the other hand, had instant gratification tattooed across his muscular biceps. The look in his eyes tonight promised a night that could easily top Dana's four times. But then what?
And there was another aspect to consider in all this.
I looked down at my belly. Was there really someone in there? Even if there was, was that enough reason to stay with Richard?
"Well," I asked my flat belly, "what do you think I should do?"
No answer. Damn. If I hadn't just spent the night getting shot at I'd like to think I would have had the energy to go out and buy a new test then and there. As it was, I promised myself that tomorrow was The Day. Hell, I'd faced the homicidal frizz ball, I could face one little pink line. Or two
Firm in my resolve, I pulled out my futon and curled up in my blankets, and fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow.
* * *
I awoke to the sounds of a school bus dropping kids off at the end of the block and my neighbor's steamy soaps from downstairs. I cracked one eye open. 3 p.m. Yikes. I got up and took the longest shower on record, letting the scorching water sooth my over abused muscles. I put on a denim skirt and mock turtleneck to cover the purple necklace gracing my skin and added a pair of very high heels to compensate for the big ugly bandage on my arm. There wasn't much I could do about the black eye, but I gunked blue eye-shadow over the other one to try and even things out.
I made a pot of strong coffee and checked my messages. The first was Tot Trots threatening to cancel my check if they didn't see a design by Thursday. Then Marco called saying he saw me on the news last night and everyone at Fernando's was demanding details now. Mrs. Rosenblatt called and said Albert saw a black panther in my future and I should come in for an aura cleansing soon. Dana left a hysterical message, the gist of which was that she and No Neck had decided to kiss and make up, and, in the midst of the kissing part, she'd seen me on the news, and ohmigod was I okay?
I called Dana back first, and she answered on the first ring with a breathless, "Hello?"
"Hi. It's me."
"Ohmigod! Are you okaaaaaay?!"
I held the phone away from my ear, cringing at Dana's dog-whistle pitch. "Yes, I'm fine." Relatively speaking. I quickly filled her about the Prada clue, the files on Jasmine's computer and my run-in with the Frumpty Dumpty. When I finished I could almost hear Dana vibrating with excitement on the other end.
"Ohmigod, Maddie, you totally kick butt, girl."
I couldn't help a little smile. I kinda did, didn't I?
"This is so cool," Dana continued. "You're all over the news, you know. You're like a hero now."
"Well, I don't know about that—"
"Oh, honey, don't be so modest. You single handedly solved two murders."
I bit my lip, refraining from mentioning I'd actually suspected the wrong blonde. "Well, I got lucky."
"I'll say. Honey, you could have been killed."
I looked down at the bandage on my arm. Like I needed a reminder.
"Well, I didn't. I'm fine."
"For now. But what about next time?"
"Next time?" I'm sorry, but I wasn't exactly chomping at the bit to come face to face with another gun wielding psycho. "Trust me, I'm a one trick pony. There will be no next time."
"How can you be sure? Maddie, this is a wake-up call. Crazies are everywhere!"
I rolled my eyes at the phone. "I'm fine, Dana."
"This guy at the gym does these self defense classes for women. We should totally sign up. He has one starting next week called Urban Combat for the Modern Woman. What do you think?"
"I think I'm hanging up now, Dana."
"Well, what about carrying a gun for protection? Or pepper spray. At least think about getting some pepper spray."
I rolled my eyes so far I think I saw blonde roots. "Goodbye, Dana." I hit the end button, leaving my best friend making a shopping list of deadly weapons.
Crossing my fingers they were in a good mood, I dialed the next number on my call back list, Tot Trots. I explained the situation and asked for an extension on the Strawberry Shortcake designs. They weren't too thrilled with one of their employees being affiliated with embezzlement and murder, but they agreed to give me until the end of July. Next I called Marco back and promised to come in for a long pedi soak and gossip session tomorrow. Then I called Mrs. Rosenblatt and promised to let her do an aura cleansing for me next week.
Then I didn't have any other calls to make except for the one I'd been dreading since I saw Richard sitting on my futon last night.
I made another cup of coffee.
I scrolled through my speed dial numbers. Ramirez's was right next to Richard's. God, I hated decisions. I closed my eyes and did a little eeny meeny miny mo. I didn't like the outcome, so I did it again. I took a deep breath and dialed.
"Hello?" he answered.
"Hi, it's Maddie. Listen, do you want to meet for a drink tonight? Say, seven at Casa Madera on Wilshire?"
I could hear the eagerness in his voice. "I can't wait."
I admit, as I hung up I was eager too. For the first time in days, I knew I had the right answer.
Chapter Twenty-One
I threw on a black, silky dress with a high necklin
e, high hem, and low back. I put on my Gucci two-inch heels, black mascara, and fire engine red lipstick. After giving my hair a good mousse and blow dry, I think I was looking damn sexy. Which was good. Because I needed all the confidence I could get if I was really going to do this.
I jumped in my Jeep and took the PCH up to Wilshire. The only parking spot I could find was two blocks down from the restaurant so I used the short walk to summon up my nerve. Butterflies were doing the mambo in my belly, but I told myself this was what I really wanted.
I spied him as soon as I walked in the doors. Sitting at the bar with his back to the door. I took a deep breath and held my chin up high as I made my way toward him.
He must have sensed my presence as he turned around just as I approached. His face breaking into a slow grin as he took in my outfit. I had the briefest moment of doubt at his appreciative stare, but it was all washed away as he leaned in and planted a kiss on my cheek with a, "You look gorgeous, pumpkin."
Pumpkin. Ugh. I forced a smile back. "Hi, Richard."
"Can I order you a drink?" he asked, as I slid onto the stool beside him.
"Uh…" I looked down at Richard's scotch and soda. "Just a Diet Coke, thanks."
He signaled the waiter, who quickly deposited the cool drink in front of me. I took a long sip, hoping to settle the over active butterflies.
"Maddie, I'm so glad you called," he said, taking my hand in his.
I took a deep breath. "Listen, Richard, I've thought about what you said last night."
"You have? I'm really glad to hear that. Because while I was in prison I had a lot of time to think about us and—"
"Richard it's over."
He looked up. "What?"
"Us. It's over." I let out a long breath. Wow, it felt good to say that.
"But, I…" Richard trailed off, his eyes pleading with me. "I thought we had a good thing, pumpkin. What happened?"
I snorted. "What happened? You lied to me about everything, Richard."
"But I thought you understood why." His perfectly waxed eyebrows drew together in confusion.
"I understand that when things got rough, you lied, cheated, stole, and then ran off. You're weak, Richard. And I'm way too strong to be sucked down by a guy like you. I can hold my own, but I can't hold us both up. I'm sorry."
I downed the rest of my Diet Coke in one gulp as Richard sputtered beside me. I took his bewildered face in both my hands and deposited a quick kiss on his cheek. "Good luck, Richard. I hope you don't go back to prison."
With that, I collected my purse and walked as quickly as I could through the restaurant and out the front door. I knew he was watching as I left, but I didn't even feel his eyes on me. All I felt was an enormous sense of freedom.
As soon as I got out the door I flipped my cell phone open and hit the speed dial. Ramirez answered on the second ring.
"Hello?"
"What are you doing tonight?" I asked.
He paused. "Why?"
I grinned from ear to ear. "'Cause I'd like to cash in that rain check."
I felt him smile through the phone and could almost see that sexy dimple denting his cheek. "I'll clear my schedule."
Heat wrapped around my spine, clear down to my panties. Which were so not grannies tonight. "There's one thing I have to do first. Meet me at my place in half an hour?"
"I'll be there."
* * *
I almost ran the rest of the way back to my Jeep. I hopped back on the PCH, pulling off at Pico for a quick duck into Rite Aid before heading home. I bought a new EPT. And this time I made sure it had a splashguard and an expiration date that was eighteen months into the future. I was determined to conquer the test this time.
As soon as I got home I took it into the bathroom, carefully leaving my Diet Coke in the kitchen this time. Then I sat down on my futon, trying not to look at the clock as I waited out the three minutes. You'd think I was a pro at this by now, but it was honestly the longest three minutes of my life. I chewed on a stubby nail. Rearranged my drawing pencils. Paced back and forth the four steps from one end of my living room to the next about fifteen times.
Then I heard a knock at the door. I looked up at the clock. Two minutes fifty-five seconds.
"Just a second," I called. I closed my eyes. I counted to five. Then looked down at the readout.
One line. Negative.
I let out a long breath, feeling something like a mix of disappointment and relief. Okay maybe just a little higher on the relief side. I glanced down at my belly. Maybe someday. But, tonight I had other plans…
I quickly threw the test in the wastebasket under the sink and opened the door.
Ramirez leaned against the doorframe, dressed in his usual black T-shirt and worn jeans. The panther flirted with me from beneath the hem of his sleeve and his dark eyes swept me from head to toe.
There went that panty heat again.
"Hi," I said, trying for sexy seductress but falling closer to Minnie Mouse territory again. "I'm sorry I didn't invite you up last night. I wanted to, but everything was just too confusing, and I didn't know where things stood with Richard, or what to do about the pregnancy tests, which just kept breaking, but I got a new one, and I just took it and it's—"
Ramirez silenced me with his finger on my lips. "Enough talk," he said, his voice low and smooth.
And this time he did kiss me. Oh boy did he kiss me.
* * * * *
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* * * * *
About the author
Gemma Halliday is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the High Heels Mysteries, the Hollywood Headlines Mysteries, the Jamie Bond Mysteries, the Tahoe Tessie Mysteries, as well as several other works. Gemma’s books have received numerous awards, including a Golden Heart, two National Reader’s Choice awards, and three RITA nominations. She currently lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her boyfriend, Jackson Stein, who is also a writer, and their three children, who are adorably distracting on a daily basis.
To learn more about Gemma, visit her online at http://www.gemmahalliday.com
Connect with Gemma on Facebook at:
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* * * * *
BOOKS BY GEMMA HALLIDAY
High Heels Mysteries:
Spying in High Heels
Killer in High Heels
Undercover in High Heels
Christmas in High Heels (short story)
Alibi in High Heels
Mayhem in High Heels
Honeymoon in High Heels (novella)
Sweetheart in High Heels (short story)
Fearless in High Heels
Danger in High Heels
Homicide in High Heels
Hollywood Headlines Mysteries:
Hollywood Scandals
Hollywood Secrets
Hollywood Confessions
Twelve’s Drummer Dying
Jamie Bond Mysteries:
Unbreakable Bond
Secret Bond
Bond Bombshell (short story)
Lethal Bond
Tahoe Tessie Mysteries:
Luck Be A Lady
Hey Big Spender (coming soon!)
Young Adult Books:
Deadly Cool
Social Suicide
Wicked Games (coming soon!)
Other Works:
Play Nice
Viva Las Vegas
A High Heels Haunting (novella)
Watching You (short story)
Confessions of a Bombshell Bandit (short story)
* * * * *
SNEAK PEEK
of the next High Heels Mystery
by Gemma Halliday:
KILLER
IN
HIGH HEELS
Chapter One
There are two things in life I hate more than getti
ng shot at. Number one: Birkenstocks, one shoe I am proud to say I did not design. And number two: sit ups. The torture routine my best friend, Dana, was currently making me perform on the floor of the Sunset Gym.
"Come on, two more, you can do it!"
I grunted, giving my personal cheerleader the evil eye as I struggled to a sitting position.
"I (pant) can't (pant) do it." My stomach muscles started to shake, and I could feel an unattractive bead of sweat trailing from my blonde roots down to the tip of my chin.
"Come on, Maddie. I know you've got two more in you. Think of how good you'll look in a bikini this summer."
"I'll buy a one-piece," I grunted.
"Think of how great you'll feel knowing you did something good for your body."
I raised one eyebrow, giving her my best 'get real' look.
"Okay, think of this," Dana said, a light bulb moment flashing in her blue eyes. "Think of how bad Ramirez will want you when he sees your ripped abs."
That did it. With one really unladylike grunt I clenched my teeth together and hauled myself into a sitting position.
"Woohoo! I knew you could do it!" Dana stood up and did an end zone worthy victory dance on my behalf. Dana was a 5'7", 36 DD, strawberry blonde aerobics instructor slash wanna-be actress with the kind of body that inspired rock songs. I don't need to add that every male head in the gym suddenly turned our way.
"Thanks," I said. "I needed that."
"No prob. What are friends for?"
"But you do realize you violated The Oath."
Dana bit her lip, getting a guilty look on her face. "Oops."
The Oath was the vow I had made all of my friends and family take to never mention the name 'Ramirez' to me again. Last summer Detective Jack Ramirez, or as Dana had dubbed him, The Panty Melter, showed up at my apartment with a pocket full of condoms. He kissed me. I kissed him. There was a mad frenzy of clothing falling to the floor. We were one Vicky's push-up bra and a pair of Hanes-Her-Way from the bedroom…when his pager went off.
Spying in High Heels (High Heels Mysteries #1) Page 25
