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

by Violet Ingram

  Since he was leaning against my car, I couldn’t drive off. A bit of diplomacy seemed in order. I rolled the driver’s side window halfway down and politely informed him I was not breaking the law.

  “That’s bull. Give me that camera!”

  There was no way I was about to hand over what could possibly be my only chance at catching Janet in her lies. I turned the key and started the car. He grabbed the car handle and tried to open the driver’s side door. With the car still in park, I gunned the engine, hoping to scare him off. Mr. Nosy Napoleon Complex’s shouts drew the attention of several neighbors, including Janet. I put the car in gear but he refused to let go of the handle. It took several seconds to do the math in my head to see if my driver’s license could handle the points I’d get for running over this idiot’s foot. To my dismay I had way too many points to risk my license for the momentary satisfaction I’d get.

  Unsure of my next move, I looked around and spotted a group of neighbors huddled close by, taking in the commotion. Desperate to get out of there, I released the door locks and shoved my door into Mr. Nosy Napoleon, knocking him back just enough that he let go of the door handle. If I was careful there was just enough room for me and my car to squeeze through. It should have worked, and would have if a giant tanned wall of a human hadn’t taken advantage of the unlocked door and plopped into the passenger seat, knocking my camera onto the floor. I grabbed the camera, took out the memory card and put it in the only safe place I could think of—my bra.

  “Get the hell out of my car!”

  “Not until you tell us what you’re doing in our neighborhood,” said the giant man.

  He reached over and tried to take the key from the ignition. I tried slapping his hand away but was about as successful as a Prius driver playing chicken with an eighteen wheeler. As I was fighting with Mr. Humungous my door opened and hands grabbed at me. My elbow connected with Mr. Humungous’ nose. The giant intruder let go of the key and put both hands to his nose.

  “Oh man, I’m bleeding.”

  Hesitant hands became aggressive and yanked me from my seat.

  “Get out. I don’t want you bleeding inside my car.”

  Suddenly I was spun around and shoved against the side of my car. Mr. Nosy Napoleon along with several others stood in front of me. A gentleman dressed in jeans and a t-shirt held me fast to my car. “Get your hands off of me!”

  “Don’t let go of her. The cops are on the way.”

  “Let go of me, or I’m having you arrested for assault.”

  “The only one getting arrested for assault is you,” said Mr. Nosy Napoleon.

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You hit me in the nose.”

  I turned my head and was grateful Mr. Humongous was doing his bleeding outside of my car. “I’m sorry. That was an accident. You know you should really put some ice on that.”

  “Oh, right. Thanks.”

  I blanched and turned back around, much more willing to face an angry crowd than watch blood drip from that guy’s nose. Though to be fair, I wasn’t sure three people qualified as a crowd. Figuring the best thing to do was to not resist and remain quiet. The police would arrive soon and then I’d be on my way. I hoped.

  “What the hell were you doing taking pictures of our houses?” Mr. Nosy Napoleon asked.

  Instead of answering, I glared at him, and was pleased when he flinched.

  “She put the memory card in her bra,” said Mr. Humongous.

  “Give it to me,” Mr. Nosy Napoleon demanded.

  I laughed. “Not a chance.”

  Unhappy with my answer, he reached forward as if to get it himself. “Try it buddy and I’ll knock your teeth out.”

  A woman with gray hair and purple eye shadow that matched her shirt smiled and waved at me. I liked her.

  Before Mr. Nosy could touch me, he was yanked backward and a familiar voice said, “Try it and I’ll lock you up for sexual assault.”

  “You can’t do that. I’ve done nothing wrong,” Mr. Nosy Napoleon sputtered.

  Why oh why wasn’t there a zombie apocalypse when you needed one? I looked around, desperately searching for a zombie or a hungry werewolf. Hell, I’d have even settled for a cranky Chihuahua, but, alas, it was not to be. Instead, I suffered the humiliation of being rescued by Brandon and Grant.

  “You need to step back. Now.”

  “No way. We caught her taking pictures of our homes. She’s probably going to come back at night and rob us or kill us in our sleep. Besides, who the hell are you?” said Mr. Nosy Napoleon.

  “I’m Detective Tompkins and this is Officer Murphy. Now, if I have to tell you again to get your hands off of her, you’ll be wearing a set of cuffs and explaining to your lawyer why you disobeyed an order from the police.”

  In Nosy Napoleon’s haste to get as far away from me and, I assumed, Grant, he trampled over two of his neighbors.

  “Finally. Now all of you go on back to your houses. We’ve got this,” said Brandon.

  Not ready to admit defeat, Mr. Nosy Napoleon shouted, “We have a right to know what she’s doing here.”

  “If your only complaint is she took pictures from the street, then she didn’t break any laws. If she had trespassed on your property, that would have been different, and I don’t think any of you are saying she did that. Are you?” Grant asked, staring directly at Mr. Nosy Napoleon.

  “No, but she did break his nose.”

  Everyone turned to look at Mr. Humungous, whose nose, I was grateful to observe, no longer leaked the gooey red gunk like a faucet from a horror movie.

  “Nope, it’s all cool. The bleeding’s stopped. Besides, it’s my fault. I never should have scared the little lady.”

  I didn’t think I’d ever been called little lady in my life. I wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or an insult. Either way, he wasn’t going to press charges so I would just take the win.

  “Now that that’s all settled, everyone can go back to their business. Have a nice day,” said Brandon.

  After a few mumbles and grumbles the small crowd dispersed. I even waved a cheery goodbye to Mr. Nosy Napoleon, who glared in return. Oh well.

  “Thank you, both, but I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Jeez, Kim, what the hell?”

  “Brandon, what part of don’t want to talk about it did you have trouble with?”

  “The don’t part.”

  “Hey, wait a minute. What are you doing on duty? It’s daytime.”

  “Figured that out on your own, did ya?”

  As an answer to his question, I glared at him.

  “I switched with one of the guys for the rest of the week. That way I can be off for Mom’s party.”

  “I don’t want to hold you up so you can go now.”

  “Lighten up. We did just save you from an angry mob.”

  “Oh please, that group of uptight, loaded snobs. They would have probably stuffed me in a track suit and tried to force lemongrass or foie gras on me.”

  Brandon chuckled. “I don’t know, the short guy looked tough.”

  “Please, if I’d wanted to, I could have sent him home crying to Mommy or his wife or maybe his maid. The guy was a jerk,” I said. “So, what are the two of you doing here together?”

  “Saving your ass,” Grant replied.

  “Well my ass and I were just fine, thank you very much.”

  “Gross. I’m outta here. Try to stay out of trouble.” Brandon slung his arm over my shoulder and whispered, “Be nice.”

  Brandon got into his police cruiser and took off.

  “I guess I’ll be going too. See ya.” I turned to leave but Grant stepped to the side, blocking my car door.

  “Not yet. We’ve got to talk.”

  “I can’t imagine we have anything to talk about.” I tried to ignore how my pulse had suddenly picked up.

  “For starters, you can thank me for saving your, as you put it, nice ass.” He glanced down at said ass and back up, wait
ing for a response from me.

  “I did, didn’t I?”

  “It was pretty pathetic.”

  “Fine. Thank you, Detective Tompkins. How’s that?”

  “Better, I guess. What are you doing here?”

  “My job,” I said, trying to ignore just how close we were standing.

  “Does your job include pissing people off?”

  “Unfortunately it’s in the job description, somewhere between prying into other people’s business and spending hours in my car taking pictures of people.”

  “Then you’re in the right job. You have a natural ability to piss people off.”

  “Not always.”

  “You always get me angry.”

  “Maybe it’s just you.”

  “No way. Most people find me easygoing and quite good-looking as well.”

  “Oh, is that all the guys you arrest, or just the special ones?” I asked, not wanting to admit my own opinions of his looks. The man was arrogant enough already.

  Grant frowned.

  “Although, I’m sure some of the ladies you arrest would love to have you strip search them.”

  Grant’s eyes locked onto mine. For a brief moment I forgot how to breathe as an image of Grant and me naked popped into my head and wouldn’t go away. Especially when he leaned down, his warm breath brushing against my ear.

  “Don’t worry, Kim, I’ll make sure there’s a female officer to handle yours.”

  “Asshole!” I tried to push him away but the big jerk didn’t even budge an inch.

  I had an urge to remove the smug look on his face. The only thing that kept my hands at my sides was the very real fear he would carry out his threat. The thought of getting felt up by a female officer didn’t do anything for me, but the thought of Grant handling the task got me tingling in all the right places, though I’d admit that the day one of my brother’s won the Miss Universe Pageant.

  “No, thanks, but there is one guy there who could definitely give me one. Hell, it might even be worth making a false confession to get some alone time with him.”

  Grant pushed me backward so I was once again being held against my car, only this time I didn’t seem to mind as much. Several body parts were interested in a bit more bodily contact.

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Why? What do you care?”

  “If anyone is going to strip search you, it’s going to be me.”

  Of course my cell phone chose that moment to ring.

  “You should get that,” Grant said, taking a step back in more than just the physical meaning.

  “It can wait.”

  “Go ahead.”

  He moved a couple feet away and I knew that whatever else he had been about to say was now safely tucked away. I’d never get it out of him now, short of an interrogation room and a pair of handcuffs. Ignoring the thrill the image of Grant in handcuffs gave me, I grabbed my phone from my pocket and answered. “Hello.”

  “I have a job for you.”

  “Dimitri Fortunato, are you so busy you can’t waste time on hello?”

  “Hello, Kim. Is that better?”

  “Much. What’s up?”

  “I have a job for you tonight. It pays fifty bucks,” Dimitri said.

  “Fifty?”

  “Okay, okay, a hundred.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I’ve got another cheater. What else?”

  “Just the thought of some loser hanging on me makes me want to take a shower in hand sanitizer,” I said.

  “Okay, one fifty and that’s as high as I can go,” Dimitri said.

  “What about your regular girls?”

  “He only goes for brunettes. I’ve got a blonde and a redhead. My brunette can’t do it ’cause the babysitter had to have her appendix removed last night.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Well, it’s pretty bad timing for me. So, will you do it?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great. I’ll meet you at Indiscretions at eight.”

  “A strip club? No way.”

  “Don’t forget to wear something slutty.”

  “Dress slutty how?” I asked, but it was too late, he had already hung up. I looked up and found Grant staring at me. “What?”

  “Nothing.” He raised his hands and stepped back.

  “If we’re done, I’m out of here.”

  “Sure.”

  I opened the car door and slid behind the wheel.

  “Hey.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Short, tight, and see-through.” With that he turned and strode off to his car.

  Instead of going back to the office I went home. With my evening assignment I had to do a quick check of my closet to see if I had anything that could be considered slutty. I parked in the back and tried not to stare at Lindsay’s apartment. If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn the thing was taunting me. I shook my head at my brief trip to Insanity Station and walked into my apartment. Upstairs, I dumped my purse and keys onto the bed. I opened the closet door and stared, not seeing anything that resembled what Grant had suggested. My everyday wardrobe consisted of comfort clothes made up of t-shirts and jeans. For dress up I did have several nice dresses deemed appropriate by my family. I even had a sexy number that had received my friends’ seals of approval, but I was missing the slutty factor.

  I hesitated briefly before grabbing my cell phone and punching in speed dial number one. A male voice answered on the second ring. “Richie residence.”

  “Hi, Elijah, it’s Kim. Is her highness available?”

  He chuckled. “How are you today, Miss Kim?”

  “No worse than usual. How about you?”

  “Just fine and dandy. Wait just a moment while I get her.”

  I waited while Melissa’s combination housekeeper, chef, personal assistant, bodyguard, and chauffer bravely invaded her office where she was enjoying killing people off while her other characters were busy getting laid in ever explicit and glorious detail. The latter was why I had called her for her assistance. Though if I ever decided to go on a killing spree, she’d also be the person I called for advice.

  A few minutes of silence was broken by the sound of my best friend shouting, “Hell yeah, I want to talk to her.”

  There was a muffled sound and then Melissa said into the phone. “What’s wrong?”

  “Hello to you too,” I said.

  “I repeat, what’s wrong?”

  “Just because I’m calling during your self-imposed ‘do not disturb because I’m on a deadline’ time, doesn’t mean anything is wrong,” I replied.

  “While it’s the beginning of my day, you, I assume, have been a busy little investigator so I know there is something important going on in that adorably obnoxious head of yours. So spill it.”

  “I am not adorably obnoxious. I don’t even think that makes sense.”

  “Trust me, sweetie, it does. So what do you need help with? Fess up,” she said.

  “Fine. I do need your help.”

  “Ha.”

  “I have a job to do tonight and I need your advice,” I said.

  “Ask away.”

  “I have to dress slutty.”

  “Okay, are we talking hooker slutty or desperate single and approaching thirty slutty?”

  “Melissa…”

  “Okay, okay, don’t twist your panties up. Well, you can forget finding anything in that thing you insist is a closet. Ooh, I’ve got it. When do you need this?”

  “I need to be at Indiscretions at eight.”

  “Perfect. I’ll meet you at your place at six.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. I love playing dress up. Bye.”

  With Melissa taking care of the evening’s attire, I was freed up to go back to the office and accomplish something, namely work for my client. I had to take a moment to appreciate the fact that I had a friend who didn’t ask a bunch of stupid questions or judge me, she just started handling it. That w
as awesome.

  I stuck the cell phone in my purse and grabbed the keys. I drove back to the office actually excited at the prospect of getting real work done. It seemed forever since I had felt like I had accomplished something. At my desk I flipped on the computer and removed the memory card from my cleavage. It was with a great amount of restraint that I refrained from getting up and doing a happy dance when the images of Janet appeared on the screen. They were fantastic. I printed out four sets of pictures. Two were going to the lawyer and the store owner, while I kept one for my own records. Inspired on the drive over, the last set, containing only the photos taken at the hotel, would be sent to Janet’s current husband.

  Janet hadn’t limited herself to just cheating on her husband. She had gone beyond that when she’d filed a bogus lawsuit. Cheating of any kind had a way of pissing me off. I always rooted for them to get caught, even when I was just a kid playing Candy Land with my sister. When I’d found out the sack of crap I’d married was cheating on me, I hadn’t realized at the time he’d actually done me a huge favor. If I hadn’t caught him cheating, I may have still been married to him. I shuddered at the thought. Though it had hurt like hell at the time to find he had continued to date other women after we said “I do,” it turned out to be for the best. One day when I didn’t feel like ripping his nuts off and feeding them to the neighbor’s pit bull, I’d have to thank him.

  In hindsight, I should have suspected something. For the whole three years we were together I never once had to worry about buying condoms. He had seemed to have an endless supply of the things and had always insisted on wearing one, even after we were married. For that I was truly grateful. If he had given me a sexually transmitted disease, they would have never found his body.

  I stuffed the three sets of pictures into large envelopes and addressed the one for Janet’s husband to his work address. With all of that done, I pulled the file on Lindsay and once again went over everything I’d jotted down about what had happened since finding Brian’s body in Lindsay’s apartment several days ago. I had hoped going over my notes would jog my brain, bring some small detail into focus and help this whole thing make sense.

  It worked sometimes so I figured I’d give it a try. Twenty minutes of reading and rereading resulted in absolutely nothing. Frustrated, I stuffed the file in my desk drawer and decided to walk to McDonald’s for inspiration in the form of a vanilla milkshake and french fries—a perfect combination for getting the brain cells working again. I stuck the memory card into my purse and made the short walk to McDonald’s and back.