Spying in High Heels

“Yeah, go. I’m fine.”

“Cool. I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll read all about the arrest over bagels.” She gave me co-conspiratal wink before disappearing back into the ever-growing mob of happy hour patrons.

Right. The arrest. I just hoped there was one. Again I got that itch to see what was going on at the motel. Was Greenway in custody? If he was, I was sure Perky Reporter Woman would be singing all about it on the evening edition. If Richard saw news of the all clear, he might even be back in his condo tonight. I took another sip of my Diet Coke, wondering just how I felt about that.

Now that Cinderella was in the picture, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure I knew how things stood between Richard and me anymore. I mean, of course I was pissed at him, he was married to a freaking Disney princess. But, as I’d learned from Mrs. Rosenblatt’s parade of husbands, there were all kinds of married. Maybe they were separated, estranged. So what then?

And, to make matters worse, I couldn’t stop thinking about that heated panty thing that Ramirez seemed to inspire in me, which I’m sure was just a bad case of not getting laid in awhile, but was a little unnerving all the same.

I took another sip of my Diet Coke, really wishing it had a higher vodka content. Which was a sad commentary on my life. Fashion designer wanna-be yearns to get drunk after being shot at by her lying, cheating ex-boyfriend’s murderous client. While thinking really unwholesome thoughts about annoying, yet oh-so-sexy, homicide detective.

“Excuse me,” a voice said behind me, catching the attention of Liao’s replacement behind the bar. “I’ll have a Coors.”

I froze.

Have you ever noticed that some people have a tendency to show up just when you’re thinking of them? Mrs. Rosenblatt would undoubtedly say it was the cosmic thread that bound us all together. Personally, I think it’s just dumb luck. And my luck seemed to be really bad tonight.

I resisted the urge to slink away into the dancing crowd (Because he’d probably find me anyway, after all he was a cop.) and turned around to face him.

“Well,” Ramirez said, a sly grin creasing his features, “Fancy meeting you here.”

Chapter Nine

All I could do was stare. Damn, did this guy have a homing device or what?

Ramirez just smiled, casually depositing himself onto the stool beside me as the bartender slid him a bottle of Coors.

“Love the outfit,” he said.

“Thanks.” I tugged at the hem of my dress, suddenly very aware of my bunching grannies again.

His smiled widened, showing off that too-sexy dimple. “Something about a woman in spandex gets me all hot and bothered.”

“You’re mocking me aren’t you?”

“Just a little.”

“It’s supposed to be a disguise.”

“From whom?”

I paused. “No one.”

“Hmm.” He studied me, his hands idly picking up a swizzle straw from the bar and drawing little circles with it.

“What?” I asked.

“The wig is a nice touch.”

“Real classy huh?”

“I think I prefer you as a blonde.”

I hated that somewhere inside me a pleased little voice screamed, “He likes your hair!”

“So, what are you doing here?” I asked, squelching the little voice.

“Working.” He fixed me the kind of stare Superman used when switching on his X-ray vision. “What are you doing here?”

I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure how much to spill. Worse, I’d told so many versions of the truth lately, I wasn’t entirely sure which version I’d last given Ramirez. But considering Greenway was likely on his way to County right now and Richard would be home soon, I figured I didn’t have much to lose.

“I was looking for Greenway but I got shot at, so I needed a drink.”

Ramirez looked down at my Diet Coke and raised an eyebrow. Luckily he didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure I could explain that on top of everything else.

“Okay,” he said, shaking his head. “Because I like you, and I’ve haven’t got time to do all the paperwork, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that shooting thing.”

Did he just say he liked me? Damn, that little voice was perking up again.

“Look, Maddie,” he continued, “this is a homicide. Bad men with big guns. This is not children’s shoes. Don’t you think maybe it’s time you went home and let the big boys handle this?”

He had a point. I wasn’t thrilled about the guys with guns. And getting shot at again was way, way low on my list of to-do’s. I’d neglected the Strawberry Shortcake shoes, I’d dragged my best friend into the Valley, I’d very nearly gotten Althea fired, and I was in neon spandex of all things. And in all honesty, I had planned on finishing my drink, going straight home and gluing my butt to my futon as I watched for any sign of Greenway’s arrest on the news.

But the way Ramirez said “big boys” made my spine straighten, my jaw clench, and my eyes narrow into cat- like slits as I flipped my fake hair over one shoulder.

“Listen, ‘big boy’, I may have ovaries, but I’m not going to just sit at home and knit while Richard is out there being hunted down by a killer. Even if he is married to Cinderella.”

K – not a good idea to spout off to a cop. Ramirez stared at me, pinning me with his best Bad Cop face. I said a silent prayer that he didn’t reach for his cuffs. On any day, spending a night in a county cell wasn’t my idea of a good time. And dressed like this, it would probably rank below wearing the Purple People Eater down a Milan runway on the fun scale.

Just as I was about to throw myself on the mercy of the law, Ramirez’s eyes crinkled at the corners. His lip jerked up.

And then he laughed out loud.

It should have pissed me off, but instead I found my fighting stance fading. Man, he had a great laugh. It was rich and full and totally transformed his face. For a second I got a glimpse of the cover model he could have been in another life.

“Fine,” he said, finally recovering. “I’ll make you a deal.” He leaned in close enough that I could smell his brand of soap. Ivory. I inhaled. I’d always liked that brand.

“What kind of deal?”

His eyes locked on mine and in a voice that was way too intimate said, “You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”

Yikes. I hoped he was talking about the case. Okay, well I mostly hoped he was talking about the case. There was one teeny tiny little corner of my brain that flashed on Dana’s “animal sex” phrase again.

“What do you want to know?” I squeaked out.

His gaze didn’t waiver. “Everything.”

That covered a lot of ground. I decided to go for the cliff notes version. “Okay. I was at Richard’s office yesterday and a call came in from Greenway. I traced the call to the Moonlight Inn and my best friend, Dana, and I dressed as hookers to try to get Greenway’s room number out of the night clerk. Only when we go to the room, someone shot at us, so we bolted.”

Both Ramirez’s eyebrows headed north this time.

“You traced the call?”