Death By High Heels (The Kim Murphy PI Series Book 1)

by Violet Ingram

  “Okay, but what does that have to do with any of this?” she asked, clasping her hands in her lap. Lindsay’s face was flushed and her eyes looked anywhere but at me.

  “You know Evan Hardin.”

  “I met him a few months ago.”

  “I’m gonna need a bit more than that.”

  Lindsay whispered something, but since I didn’t have ears like an elephant, I had no idea what the heck she said. Leaning forward, I asked her to repeat herself.

  “I said Mr. Hardin is my attorney.”

  “Your attorney?”

  “Yes, I needed help with my grandfather’s estate.”

  “I’m confused. Why did you go to a defense attorney instead of a probate lawyer?”

  “I met Evan about six months ago. We were both working on a Saturday afternoon. I went to the restaurant downstairs for lunch. I sat at the table next to him and we got to talking. I told him about my grandfather and he offered to help.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Yes. He sent me to a probate lawyer in his firm.”

  “Did you pay for the services?”

  “Of course I did. What kind of question is that?”

  I ignored her and asked another question of my own. “How did you pay?”

  “With a check. What does any of this have to do with clearing my name?” Lindsay asked, her face flushed and her hands trembled.

  “I honestly don’t know yet, but I’ve got to see where it goes.” I stood up to leave, expecting Lindsay to walk me to the door, but instead she remained in the chair.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I’d prefer it if you didn’t talk with Evan.”

  “Relax, he’s not going to tell me anything confidential.”

  “Please, Kim, I just think it would be better if you didn’t discuss this with him.”

  “You’ve been telling me from the beginning how much you want your life back to normal. I finally find a connection, granted a small one, and you don’t want me to follow up on it. Why?”

  “He isn’t involved in this. I’m sure.”

  “Lindsay, nobody cares that you slept with Mr. Hardin.”

  She gasped. “How do you know?”

  I was tempted to tell her I had a brain but I thought she wouldn’t like that much. “It’s my job to figure things out. Just like I figure he’s married.”

  “We didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  “I get it. You accidently slept with a married man.”

  “His wife doesn’t understand him. He’s staying for the kids. The youngest one will graduate high school next year and then we can be together.”

  “How nice for the two of you.”

  “See, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you’d judge me.”

  “You’re my client. I work for you. It doesn’t matter what I think of you. You’re not paying me to be the morality police.”

  “Good, I’m glad we got that straightened out. I’ll let Evan know you need to talk to him.”

  “So, has he been giving you any legal advice through all this?”

  “Of course, but he had another lawyer in the firm go with me to the station when I was being questioned.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad you had someone with you.”

  “Yes, thank you for your concern.”

  Familiar with the interrogation process, from both sides, I knew just how stressful the experience was. It didn’t matter if you were innocent or not. It sucked having a police officer look at you like you were lying. In my case, the detective had chosen not to be so sarcastic or overbearing. I was sure knowing the chief was on the other side of the glass watching his every move had a bit to do with his attitude.

  This was as close to bonding with Lindsay as I wanted to get. I got up to leave and she stopped me.

  “Here, this is the card for the company the police recommended for cleaning up. Call them and make an appointment. They’ll be releasing my apartment on Saturday. Oh, and here’s the key.”

  I took the card and the key, then walked out, wondering just when the hell I became her assistant. The trip down in the elevator wasn’t quite as bad as the trip up had been. It helped that a hot guy in a business suit made the trip down with me. Embarrassing myself in front of strangers was so not an option.

  Back at my car, I slammed the door and cranked up the air conditioning. Lindsay’s sleeping with a married man was just one more example of how different the two of us were. I had never understood cheaters. If they weren’t happy, why the hell did they stay with their significant other? My ex had tried to claim some bull about a sex addiction. I told him he was just a lying, cheating asshole.

  My phone chose that unfortunate instant to ring. “Hello.”

  “What are you doing talking to Lindsay?” Grant asked.

  “Are you following me?” I looked around as if I could spot him. “Answer the question.”

  “No.”

  “No, you’re not following me, or no, you’re not answering my question?”

  He sighed. “I’m not following you. Your turn.”

  “I’m trying to find a connection between Lindsay, Brian, and Adam.”

  “Any luck?”

  “Not yet. What about you?”

  “Sorry, I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation with you. You should know better.”

  “Hey, Grant.”

  “What?”

  “Bite me.”

  He laughed. “Maybe later. Right now I’m still on the clock.”

  I had an image of Grant’s lips working their way down my neck while his hands did glorious things to my southern region.

  I gasped.

  Grant laughed.

  For that he must pay.

  “I just thought you should know I’m sitting in my office all alone and, well, I was running late this morning and didn’t bother to put any underwear on,” I lied.

  His laughter stopped. “What?”

  “You heard me. No panties. No bra. Boy, it’s getting really hot in here. I just might have to take off my jeans and t-shirt.”

  Silence.

  “Are you still there?” I asked.

  “Shit, Kim. How do you expect me to get any work done after that?”

  “Enjoying the image?”

  “Oh God, yes,” he rasped.

  “Good.” I laughed before hanging up.

  After my saucy conversation with Grant and the desert-like temperatures in my car I was regretting my decision to buy a dark colored vehicle. Outside it was hot enough to melt off my liquid foundation. Inside the car it could melt the acrylic on my nails. At least my mascara was waterproof, otherwise I’d look like a member of the raccoon family that lived behind the garages at my apartment complex.

  I heard the wicked witch from The Wizard of Oz. Despite knowing who was on the other end of the phone, I answered it anyway. “Hello, Brenna.”

  “Have you bought Mom’s present yet? You know her birthday is on Sunday.”

  Brenna was only thirteen months older than me but acted like she was the more mature one responsible for her younger, clueless sister.

  “Brenna, I haven’t forgotten Mom’s birthday since I was eight years old.”

  “Of course you haven’t, because I always remind you.”

  “Thanks for the friendly reminder. Why don’t you call our brothers and remind them. I’m sure they would love your help.”

  “I already talked with them earlier today.”

  “Lucky them,” I muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, thanks for the unnecessary reminder, but if that’s all, I’ll see you on Sunday.”

  “Tomorrow evening I’ll pick you up and help you pick out Mom’s gift.”

  With three kids under seven she shouldn’t have any time to spend bothering me. The last thing I wanted was to go shopping with Brenna. She would insist on dragging me to the mall and into the most expensive stores. My sister was under the illusion that everyone could sp
end two hundred dollars for a piece of art.

  I loved Brenna but I could only handle her in brief bouts of time before the urge to strangle her overwhelmed me.

  “Kim?”

  “Oh, thanks anyway, but I’ve already got an idea for Mom’s present. Oops, gotta go, bye.”

  I hung up before she could argue me to death. Yeah, sure it was not an official cause of death, but it could happen.

  After finding the paper with the Hardin Law Firm’s phone number, I called and set an appointment for tomorrow afternoon. I wasn’t due at Max’s Diner for an hour, plenty of time to find a gift.

  Following Spring Valley back toward my office, I turned right onto Franklin Street before a quick left on Maple Avenue. My friend Charmaine Boudreaux’s shop was on the right. I parked and went inside. The jingle of four small bells announced my arrival. Near the front of the store, I could see Charmaine helping a customer with what looked like a pair of dinosaur statues. Charmaine looked over and gave a little wave. Charmaine was five feet two when spotted in her two-inch heels. She had dark brown eyes, black hair, and skin like Halle Berry.

  I waved back and began my search. It didn’t take long to find a dozen things my mom would love. Since Charmaine’s store was in the historic district of downtown Lakeview, her customers were typically from the extra rich side of town. Luckily for me I got the BFF discount, which was much better than what she charged certain members of her own family.

  A glass shelving unit held a collection of music boxes. Before I could reach out, a slender hand with French tips and a diamond big enough to play baseball with snatched the one I had been staring at. I turned toward the body attached to the sneaky hand and cringed. The hand belonged to none other than Maria Gonzalez-Feldman.

  In high school, Maria had been on the cheerleading squad with my sister. She had spent absolutely way too much time at our house. In front of my family she always pretended to be so sweet, when, actually, she was a slutty bitch. She tried to make my life hell and in return I did the same to her. Instead of maturing as we’d gotten older, Maria managed to get even bitchier. If it wasn’t usually aimed in my direction, I would have been impressed.

  “Kimberly, it’s so good to see you.”

  What a load of crap. Maria’s mother used to brag of naming her after a saint. I’m sure her namesake has looked down and wished Maria’s parents had named her Satan instead.

  “Maria, what a surprise. It’s been too long,” I lied.

  “Yes, it has,” she lied right back. “What are you doing here in the middle of the day? I hope you’re not looking for a job.” She smirked.

  “No, just doing some shopping, same as you. The beauty of being your own boss is you can pick your own hours.”

  “Oh, that’s right, you have that little detective agency.”

  She made my work sound like a hobby. Man, I really wanted to hit her.

  “So, how’s the family?” I asked, trying to be polite since she was one of Brenna’s friends. More importantly, Charmaine would kill me if I beat the crap out of one of her customers.

  “The family is great. My husband just got a promotion and the kids keep me so busy with all their activities.”

  “Wow, a promotion. He must have worked hard for that.” I smirked. “Don’t his parents own the company?”

  “Yes, but that had nothing to do with it. He earned that promotion.” Her eyes narrowed.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Ladies, welcome. Maria, I see you’ve picked one of my favorite new pieces,” Charmaine said, a smile plastered on her face.

  “Actually, it doesn’t really fit my taste.” Maria sniffed and placed the music box back on the shelf.

  “She’s right,” I said, looking at Charmaine. “It’s classy and elegant and you—”

  “Maria, why don’t you try the counter next to the register? We have some lovely new pieces of jewelry,” Charmaine interrupted, glaring at me, daring me to say something else.

  We watched Maria turn and walk away. “So, Kim, I assume you’re not here to chase away my wealthy customers,” she said after Maria was out of earshot.

  “She’s a bitch. How can you stand being nice to her?”

  Charmaine smirked, hooked her arm in mine, and led me toward the back of the store. “You’re right, she is a bitch, a rich one, and a lot of her rich friends shop here because she does.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Also, I charge her full price and make a killing on every item she buys.”

  We looked at each other and laughed.

  “So, am I forgiven?”

  “If you buy something.”

  “Good, because I need something for my mom’s birthday.”

  “Of course you do, and I have the perfect gift for her. Let’s go in the back.”

  The stockroom was currently filled with boxes. A desk in the corner held a computer, stacks of papers, and two empty coffee mugs. I sat at the desk while Charmaine went on a search.

  “Close your eyes,” Charmaine said.

  “What?”

  “Just do it.”

  “Fine.” I sighed.

  “Open up.”

  I did as ordered and gasped. “Oh my God, it’s perfect.”

  “Of course it is,” she preened.

  In her hands she held a foot-tall glass carousel horse. It would be a wonderful addition to my mother’s collection. I couldn’t wait for her to see it, and if I was honest, seeing the look on Brenna’s face would be good too.

  Brenna always spent way more on us than we spent on her. It wasn’t her fault the rest of us weren’t in the same tax bracket as she was. After graduating college she had married her college sweetheart, who had started his own successful accounting firm. Personally I couldn’t think of many jobs duller.

  “How much?” I asked.

  “Thirty.”

  “Charmaine…”

  “What?”

  “It’s worth at least three times that much,” I protested.

  “Actually, it’s worth five times that, but it’s my store so I decide what the prices are. You want it, fine. You don’t, maybe I’ll go out front and see if Miss Bitchy wants it.” She smirked.

  I gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Nah, but boy was it great to see the look on your face.”

  “You’re evil.”

  “Back at ya.”

  “I’ll take it before you change your mind.”

  Charmaine laughed. “I figured that out before you even saw it.”

  “So, how was your date last night?”

  “It was okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  “We went to dinner. It was nice.”

  “So what was the problem?”

  “Nothing, let’s just drop it.”

  “Oh, you know I can’t drop it. Spill.”

  “Fine, he spent half an hour telling me about his stuffed animal collection.”

  “His what?”

  “Don’t you dare laugh,” she ordered.

  “I’m not.” I bit my lower lip to prevent the giggles from escaping.

  “Tell me what man in his right mind collects stuffed animals and dresses them up in clothes.”

  “He dresses them up? Oh jeez.” I tried but couldn’t fight the giggles. I kept my purse close in case I had to toss it at Charmaine in an attempt to escape. In high school she’d taken martial arts classes and there was no way I was going to stand around while she used some freaky moves on me. I was rather partial to my face just the way it was.

  “Damn it, Kim!”

  “Sorry,” I said before Charmaine burst out laughing. It wasn’t long before tears streamed down our faces.

  “Ah hell, I haven’t laughed that hard in weeks,” Charmaine said, wiping away the tears.

  “Me either,” I admitted.

  “That dude was crazy. He names them. I got outta there so fast I left half my food on the plate and didn’t even get a doggie bag.”

  “The next time you meet a guy
at the gas station, maybe you’ll find out a bit more about him before you give him your phone number.”

  “Relax, it’s not like he was a gang banger or something.”

  “Okay, but I just think you need to be a bit more selective next time.”

  “Maybe I should just hire you to do a background check on every guy I go out with.”

  “Then when would I have time to take on any other clients?” I laughed.

  “That’s true. Besides, you’re probably too busy lookin’ for who killed that dude in your apartment.”

  “It wasn’t in my apartment!”

  “Okay, sorry. You don’t have to bite my head off.”

  “No, I’m sorry. It’s just getting old. Why does everyone keep assuming I’m guilty?”

  “Kim, nobody’s assumin’ anything.”

  “Ha!”

  “Okay, you’re right, they are, but you gotta admit it makes sense.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “That don’t mean you gotta like it.”

  I laughed. “Well, I don’t.”

  “So what are you gonna do about it?”

  “Nothing for now.” I glanced at a grandfather clock in the corner. “Ooh, I’ve gotta go. I’ve got a meeting.”

  “Meetings suck.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. We went up front, and thankfully Maria was gone. Charmaine wrapped the gift while I paid the cashier. I left, promising to call her if I needed to talk.

  Chapter Six

  I drove south until I reached Willowhurst. A busy intersection unless it was the middle of the night, I waited through three turns at the light before making a left.

  At the diner, I parked in the lot and headed inside. Brandon had claimed a table with a window overlooking the parking lot and his precious Ford pickup truck. I slid into the booth across from him. Max’s Diner was the place everyone went for comfort food. If you liked your food cooked in grease and covered in gravy, Max’s was for you. The décor left something to be desired, but just one bite of the food and you wouldn’t care if you were sitting in your pajamas on the roof. The white Formica tables had paper placemats and paper napkins. The booths and chairs were a black vinyl while the floor was black-and-white checked linoleum. He motioned for a waitress. When she arrived at the table she flashed her pearly whites at him.

  “Could we get another coffee?” Brandon asked.