Spying in High Heels

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 derriere. 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 call 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.