Spying in High Heels

by Gemma Halliday

  “I think so.”

  He reached his hand to the back of my head and carefully felt the lump. His hands were warm and gentle and I resisted the urge to lean in to his touch.

  “That’s quite a lump.”

  “Thanks.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked. “That wasn’t exactly a compliment.”

  I bit my lip. “Right.”

  His hand moved lower, caressing the back of my neck. I think I let out a little happy groan.

  “So what happened?” he asked.

  I drew a shaky breath and proceeded to relive what were quite possibly the scariest moments of my entire life. Something about the idea of being attacked in my own home, a place I’d always associated with coziness and safety, shook me harder than a 7.2. When I finished my eyes were getting watery again and I was sniffling like the guy in the Allegra commercials.

  Ramirez stared at me, his hand still gently kneading my neck.

  “Just say it,” I said.

  One eyebrow quirked. “Say what?”

  “I know you’re dying to say, ‘I told you so.’ To tell me that I should have listened to you and left this whole thing alone. That I have no idea what I’m doing and I’m only going to get myself hurt. Just say it. I know you’ll feel better if you do, so just get it over with, and-”

  Ramirez silenced me with his finger on my lips.

  I froze. His touch soft. The look in his eyes dark. Oh God, was he going to kiss me? Here? Now?

  But he didn’t. Instead he said, “Just promise me you’ll leave it alone now.”

  I swallowed hard as Ramirez brushed his fingertips over my lips before drawing them back into his lap. I was trying really hard not to think inappropriate thoughts.

  “But isn’t the fact that someone broke in proof that Richard’s innocent?” I protested. “That the real killer is out there somewhere?” I was aware I sounded frighteningly like O.J.

  Ramirez just shook his head. “No, Maddie, it proves you’ve pissed someone off. And I’m frankly not surprised. You go nosing into people’s private lives and someone’s bound to get upset.”

  I hated to admit he had a point. Any one of the loony Los Angelinos I’d encountered in the last week could have found out where I lived. I wasn’t exactly the world’s best undercover agent.

  “I don’t want to hear your name on the police scanner anymore. Promise me you’ll leave it alone?”

  I nodded meekly. Even though I was crossing my fingers under the green blanket.

  “Good.” He paused. “The medic says you might have a slight concussion. You shouldn’t be alone.” His dark eyes met mine. “Do you have somewhere you can stay tonight?”

  I gulped. The smoky look in his eyes hung in the air between us. I’d like to attribute it to the shock that my mind instantly began undressing Ramirez right there on my front steps.

  I swallowed hard. “I’ll, um, I’ll call Dana.”

  I thought I saw a flicker of disappointment in his eyes, too, but it was so quick I might have imagined it.

  “Good.” Ramirez got up and spoke to the uniformed officer who’d first encountered me. The uniform did a lot of wild hand gestures, pointing at me, then miming hysteria. Great. Now Ramirez was really going to think I was girly. One bump on the head and I turned into Cybil.

  I pulled my cell out of my purse and dialed Dana’s number, praying she picked up. She did, and I quickly explained the situation. She said she’d be right there and I hung up.

  Ten minutes later her tan Saturn screeched to a halt behind the black and whites, and Mod Squad Girl came running at me. She was wearing the go-go boots and a bright pink and lime green dress that just barely covered her derrière. Especially since she was running full tilt toward me. I saw two of the uniformed officers staring after her, their tongues dragging on the asphalt as they caught the rear view.

  “Ohmigod, ohmigod, are you okaaaaay?” Dana reached me and wrapped her arms around my middle, hugging me so tightly I thought my eyes might bulge out.

  “I can’t breathe.”

  “Sorry.” She backed away. “What happened?”

  “Somebody broke in. They trashed my place and then hit me on the head.”

  “Oooohhh, honey,” she wailed, hugging me again.

  “I’m okay,” I protested, wriggling from her iron grip. “I just need somewhere else to stay tonight. Can I come home with you?”

  “Of course! I’ll pull the sofa bed out. And we’ll make cocktails, it will be like a sleepover.”

  “No cocktails.” Ramirez came up behind us. To his credit, his eyes didn’t even linger on Dana’s peek-a-boo hemline. Much.

  “She’s got a possible concussion. So no alcohol.”

  “Right. Got it.” Dana nodded, as if taking notes. “No booze.”

  “And she shouldn’t go to sleep for more than two hours at a time. She needs to be woken up to make sure she’s not nauseated or disoriented.”

  “Right. No sleep.”

  Ramirez slid me a sideways glance. “And no more sticking her nose in other people’s business.”

  I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him. Under the circumstances, I thought it was very mature of me.

  “Right. No nosing,” Dana repeated.

  “I’ll make sure they lock up when they’re done.” Ramirez gestured up toward my studio door, still standing ajar. “Let me know where you’re staying and I’ll have someone drop the keys off.”

  Dana gave him her address and phone number, which Ramirez wrote down in his little notebook. Then Ramirez got back into his SUV and drove away, leaving Dana and me both fanning ourselves as we stared after his denim clad butt worthy of a GAP commercial.

  “That man is Alabama in August hot,” Dana said. “Did you see those glutes?”

  I sighed. “I know.”

  “You sure you don’t want to make him your detective?”

  No. I wasn’t sure. Just like I wasn’t sure if I was experiencing actual morning sickness or just reacting to the nauseating state of my love life in general. All I knew was concussion equaled whopper of a headache and my brain hurt all the way to my ash blonde roots.

  “Dana, please tell me you have some Advil in your purse?”

  Dana reached into her Spade knockoff while eyeing my temple, where I could feel a goose egg slowly rising. “You know, I hate to say it,” she said, “but maybe Ramirez is right. Maybe you should just leave this all to the cops.”

  Et tu, Dana?

  Only I kind of agreed with her. I had tons of suspects, motives galore, and more outrageous theories than an X-Files fan. But what I didn’t have was any real evidence that anyone other than Richard had actually killed Greenway and his wife. And I was beginning to think that maybe Chesterton was right, that Richard’s best bet at that get out of jail free was an undotted “i” or misscrossed “t” in the legal system. Maybe I was just making things worse. Maybe it was time to consider a career in cheerleading after all.

  Trying not to feel deflated, I downed two Advil, shrugged off the green blanket and got into Dana’s Saturn. I spent most of the ride into Studio City with my eyes closed, trying not to think about how my life had suddenly become something out of a B-movie.

  When we pulled up to the Actor’s Duplex I flickered them open to see a blue Trans Am parked outside the building.

  Dana parked behind it. “Uh oh.”

  “Uh oh? What uh oh?”

  She bit her lip and turned to me. “You’re not going to like this.”

  Great. “Then you better tell me quickly while my head still hurts too badly to strangle you.”

  Dana looked from the Trans Am to me. “I kind of told Sasha and Micha to meet us here for our double date tonight.”

  “Dana! I told you ‘no.’”

  “I know, I know. But I thought you’d change your mind. I mean your boyfriend is in prison.”

  Like I needed reminding.

  “I’m sorry. I was so freaked when you called I totally forgot to ca
ll Sasha and cancel.”

  “Dana, I’m so not in an Energizer Bunny place right now.”

  “Look, let’s go in and I’ll explain that you’re not feeling well and we’ll have to double date another time.”

  I gave her a dirty look.

  “Okay, okay. No double date. Geez. You know, I’ve only got your best interests at heart here. When was the last time you even had sex?”

  I did not dignify this with an answer. Mostly because I couldn’t remember.

  When we walked in the door, Sasha and another dark haired man were seated on the living room sofa. No Neck sat in the Lay-z-boy across from them, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Dana trilled, plopping her purse down on the kitchen counter. She gave No Neck a cursory glance, then deposited a kiss on Sasha’s cheek.

  No Neck’s eyes narrowed.

  “We are waiting with roommate. He let us in. We wait a long time for you,” Sasha chided. Then he looked down at Dana’s higher-than-a-kite hemline. “But is worth the wait.”

  No Neck’s eyes narrowed further.

  “Sorry, we had a little emergency. Maddie,” she said, dragging me into the room by the hand. “This is Micha, Sasha’s friend.”

  Micha stood up to shake my hand. I felt a bubble of laughter escape my lips. The top of his head only came to my chin.

  Micha stuck out his hand, and smiled until his face was all teeth. “I do it on top.”

  I blinked. Okay, way too much information for a first date. I looked from Dana to the overly friendly midget. “Please tell me he didn’t just say what I think he said.”

  “Micha’s the top of the pyramid,” Dana quickly explained.

  “Yes.” Micha nodded. “I do it on top.”

  Uhn. Mental forehead smacking.

  Micha sat back down, patting the sofa beside him. I sat down, sliding as far to the other end as possible.

  “I like new dress you wear,” Sasha said, still eyeing Dana’s outfit like an Atkins dieter with a Krispy Kreme.

  “Oh, thanks, honey.” She glanced in No Neck’s direction. “The old ball and chain dresses up pretty nice, doesn’t she?”

  Sasha nodded, his neck getting all veiny again. “Is good. Make boob look very curvy.”

  No Neck’s eyes became tiny slits.

  “So, Micha, Maddie’s a shoe designer,” Dana said, still obviously trying to play matchmaker to my underfed libido.

  Micha looked down at my fuzzy slippers.

  “Not these,” I clarified. “Children’s shoes.”

  “Ah.” He nodded.

  “Only the Strawberry Shortcake high tops I was working on say ‘bitch’ all over them now, because Greenway’s mistress broke into my apartment and hit me on the head, so they’re not really child friendly anymore.” For future reference, I apparently tend to babble both when I’m nervous and when I’ve suffered a concussion.

  Micha gave me a concerned look. Then scooted further toward his end of the sofa.

  “Dana,” I prodded. “Didn’t you have something to tell them?” I gestured to the pyramid twins.

  “Right.” She cleared her throat. “Guys, Maddie’s not really feeling well tonight, so we’re going to have cancel. Sorry.”

  Sasha’s face fell. Micha looked a little relieved, still glancing at my fuzzy slippers.

  “When I see you again?” Sasha asked. “You come out tomorrow night? We have date then? Go very fancy restaurant?”

  “Aw, isn’t that sweet,” Dana said. “I love how some men,” she glanced in No Neck’s direction again, “aren’t afraid to commit to a relationship.”

  “Sasha a fear of nothing,” Sasha said and I swear he was about to thump his chest like Tarzan. “Sasha love date with Dana. Love my little curvy boob.”

  “All right that’s it!” No Neck stood up, his sudden break from silence shocking us all into immobility. “Dana, you can’t possibly be serious about this guy? Did he just call you curvy boob?”

  Dana did a hands on hips pose. “It’s better than ball and chain.”

  “He’s a meat head!”

  “You’re a commitmentphobe!”

  “Shhhh,” I pleaded, “concussion.”

  Unfortunately, no one paid me any attention.

  “Me?” No Neck countered. “You’re the one who jumps into bed with anything that happens to cross your path. And I may not see the point of freezing a bunch of damn flowers from some damn wedding, but at least I have the decency to wait until we’re in bed to talk about your boobs.”

  Sasha stood up. “You go to bed with roommate?” he asked, looking from Dana to No Neck.

  I put a hand to my temple. I think it was going to explode.

  Dana looked from one testosterone machine to the other. “Um, no. Yes. I mean, maybe once. Or twice.”

  “Five times,” No Neck corrected. “Five times in one night. Beat that, Pyramid Boy.”

  “You challenge Sasha?” He balled his fists, taking a step toward No Neck.

  No Neck narrowed his eyes. “Maybe I am.”

  Dana glanced from one pair of flared nostrils to the other. Then gave me a pleading look. “Maddie?”

  I sighed, standing up and positioning myself behind Sasha. “Maybe we should all just calm down a little,” I said.

  Of course, being that they had already engaged their instinctive male combat modes, I was completely ignored. Sasha took a step towards No Neck. No Neck balled his hand into a fist, cocking it backwards. I watched in slow motion as Micha jumped off the sofa, Dana screamed, Sasha ducked and No Neck’s fist came into contact with my right eye.

  “Uhn.” I groaned and fell backwards into the midget.

  “Ohmigod! Look what you did, you… you… Neanderthal!” Dana yelled, rushing to my aid as she and Micha half lifted, half dragged me onto the sofa.

  My vision was going fuzzy but I think I saw No Neck blinking rapidly as he stood with his mouth hanging open. “He ducked. I didn’t mean to hit her. Hell, I wouldn’t hit a girl.”

  “Very bad hitting girl. You no honor.” Sasha clucked his tongue and shook his head at No Neck.

  “It’s your fault!” No Neck shouted. “You ducked.”

  “Shut up, both of you,” Dana yelled, throwing them both the death look.

  “Would somebody please get the girl some ice?” I croaked out, feeling my eye start to swell. With any luck it would swell shut and I wouldn’t have to look at myself in the mirror tomorrow. Because I had a sinking feeling it wasn’t going to be pretty.

  No Neck grabbed a bag of frozen edamame from the freezer and Dana stuck it on my eye. I cringed, wishing I was on something stronger than Advil. Like Vicodin. Or tequila.

  Dana banished No Neck to his room, then ushered the Russian duo out the door. Sasha looked reluctantly at Dana’s skirt (or lack thereof) but conceded as she none too gently slammed the door behind them.

  I closed my eyes and leaned my head back on the sofa, wondering what exactly I’d done to deserve this. Was it because I hadn’t gone to mass since Easter? Because I was lusting after Ramirez? Was my mother right? Did God have it in for me now?

  Dana sat down on the sofa beside me and blew out a long breath. “How’s your eye?”

  “I’m afraid to look.”

  Dana pulled the edamame away and inspected. She cringed. “It’s not that bad.”

  “Dana, you’re a terrible liar.” I covered it with the frozen soy again, wondering if maybe I could just hibernate in Dana’s bedroom for the rest of the summer.

  “I’m so sorry about that,” Dana said. “Men suck.”

  “No kidding.”

  “That’s it, I’m off men. The whole lot of them. I’ve got my Rabbit Pearl, what do I need a man for anyway?”

  At the moment I had to agree. A battery powered rabbit seemed like a far less complicated way to live. At least rabbits didn’t slug you.

  * * *

  Dana diligently woke me every two hours throughout the night. Which was a gre
at way to make sure I didn’t fall into a coma but a lousy way to get a good night’s sleep. By the time I finally felt semi-rested the events of the previous evening had turned into a dull ache behind my eye and the morning had already slipped into afternoon. I sat up with an acute sense of disorientation. I had no idea where I was. This wasn’t my blanket, my pillow, hell, I didn’t even think this was my T-shirt.

  Then it all came flooding back to me as I saw No Neck in his boxers pouring orange juice. Dana stood with her back rigid across the kitchen, making toast. Neither speaking to each other.

  I slowly got up and showered, cringing as I caught a glimpse of my eye in the mirror. It was bluer than my mother’s eyeshadow and, dare I say, not nearly as attractive. I gave up on the whole make-up thing, figuring I was a lost cause today, and instead borrowed a pair of jeans and a fresh tank from Dana’s closet. Unfortunately the only shoes Dana had in my size were a pair of spike heeled stilettos that looked like they belonged on the feet of Bunny Hoffenmeyer, but beggars can’t be choosers. By the time I came out the Actors’ Standoff was still on, Dana sipping coffee and reading Variety while No Neck ate cereal from the box and glared.

  “‘Morning,” Dana said as I walked in. Then looked up at the clock. “Almost.”

  “Coffee?” I croaked out.

  “In the pot.”

  “Bless you.” I navigated around the stoic No Neck and poured a generous helping into an “Aerobics instructors do it until it hurts” mug.

  “Ramirez dropped off the keys to your apartment,” Dana said, setting aside her paper. “They’re on the counter.”

  “He was here?” I had a vision of him watching as I snored and drooled on the sofa bed.

  “Just for a minute. Man, that guy is hot enough to fry bacon.”

  No Neck crunched down hard on a bite of cereal.

  Dana pretended to ignore him, sipping her coffee.

  “Did he say anything else?” I asked. Like maybe how he’d caught the Murderous Mistress so I could go back to my studio without feeling like there was a big target on my head?

  “No. Sorry. Just the keys.”

  Drat.

  “Anyway, I’ve got to get to the gym. I have a spinning class at one. You want to come with me or hang out here?”