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?”
Hmmm… take my throbbing head through an hour and a half of sweaty bicycling to nowhere or sit on Dana’s sofa watching daytime TV?
“Thanks, I think I’ll be fine here. You go.”
Dana nodded, finishing her coffee and grabbing her gym bag. She gave me a quick hug, then gave No Neck another death glance out of the corner of her eye before she left. No Neck grunted, then stalked off to his room again.
I poured myself a second cup of coffee and took it into the living room.
Well, now what?
Contrary to my decision to become an official cheerleader last night, the idea of sitting back and doing nothing while waiting for Ramirez to give me the “all clear” signal to go back to my life didn’t appeal to me. And I was more convinced than ever that the real killer was not only on the loose, but that I was getting close enough to make her nervous.
The only problem was, where to go from here? I’d pretty much exhausted Greenway’s supply of playmates. I closed my eyes, mentally going down my list again.
It was possible Carol Carter had hired someone to kill Greenway, but I seriously doubted she’d even know where to find him if she really had been in Canada all week. Ditto Andi Jameson. After the pencil dick incident, I didn’t see Greenway inviting her over to the Moonlight for a reconciliation.
That left Bunny. I only had her word for it that she and Greenway had split at all. And let’s not forget Cinderella. If she had been toying with Greenway on the side, she had just as much opportunity as Bunny to get rid of him.
The question was, which one of them had hacked into the phony accounts and funneled out the twenty mil? Who’d had access to Richard’s computer. As I’d already proven, getting past Jasmine didn’t take the skills of a CIA trained spy, any blonde with half a brain could have slipped into Richard’s office while she was out at lunch. And luckily, my one ally in the Richard’s Innocent Campaign, was the person who’d know the comings and goings of Richard’s office better than anyone. Althea.
I looked up at the clock. It was too late to coincide my inquiry with Jasmine’s lunch break, so I decided to wait until five. If I knew Jasmine, she’d be the first to leave when quitting time rolled around. If I was quick, I could probably catch Althea before she left for the day without having my conversation overheard by Gossip Barbie.
Feeling pretty pleased with my plan, I settled back onto the sofa and watched trashy daytime TV for the rest of the afternoon. Unfortunately, the first thing I flipped on was Maury Povich doing a segment on surprise paternity results. I looked down at my belly. Were there any surprises in there?
I contemplated going out to buy a new pregnancy test, but considering my Jeep was still at my place, it was at least a two mile hike in the rapidly climbing heat to the nearest drug store, and I looked like I’d just gone two rounds with Oscar De La Hoya, I decided that might not be such a hot idea.
Though, I seemed to remember Dana saying something about an emergency just-in-case test…
I muted Maury and went into the bathroom, rummaging through Dana’s medicine cabinet until I hit upon that familiar EPT pink stashed behind a bag of cotton balls. I stared at the box. Well, I figured things couldn’t very well get much worse in my life. I might as well face the music sooner rather than later.
I ripped open the box, skimming over the instructions again for good measure, then did the whole five second urine test thing. I sat down on the rim of the bathtub to wait, gnawing my fingernails so badly Marco was sure to shriek in horror when I came in for my next manicure. Seconds crawled as I watched Dana’s Betty Boop shower clock tick off the three minutes until I saw lines. Or line – singular. God I hoped it was line. Finally Betty’s little red second hand did three full rotations and I jumped up as if I was sitting on springs. Resisting the urge to cover one eye, I peeked at the little windows. Nothing. Huh?
I picked up the instructions again, re-reading them. Pee on the cotton swap, leave stick on flat surface, check for lines. I did all that. I stared at the empty windows again. What the hell? I picked up the box, turning it over to look at the expiration date. January 15, 2008. Ugh. Mental forehead smacking.
I threw the useless test in the trash, too emotionally drained to even curse Dana for keeping an expired test around and flopped myself back onto the sofa, wishing Dana had something more comforting than low carb Newton’s and Diet Snapple Iced Tea to gorge myself on. I so needed a box of double stuffed Oreos right now. Instead, I settled for
By four I knew how to stuff a game hen, six signs you need a sexy makeover, and that Bo’s brother was really Hope’s secret lover. I was sufficiently vegged out. Flipping off the TV, I decided Jasmine was probably packing it in for the day and it was safe to resume the next phase of operation Free Richard. I grabbed my purse and called a cab, hoping I timed my trip downtown so I’d miss Jasmine.
Unfortunately, the 101 was clear of accidents and my cab driver was an eager little beaver in a blue turban, so the first face I saw as I walked into Dewy, Cheatum and Howe was, predictably, Jasmine’s.
She looked up as I walked through the front doors, her eyes narrowing like a cat’s. “What do you want?”
“Are you always this friendly?”
She scrunched up her nose, squinting at my face. “What happened to your eye?”
“Some receptionist gave me lip. We tussled.”
She took a hand on hip stance. “Listen, you, I don’t have time for this. I have a date. Why don’t you just go home and make an appointment to see Chesterton tomorrow.”
“I’m actually here to see Althea.”
Jasmine’s eyes narrowed again beneath her drawn in brows. “Althea? What do you want with her?”
“Well, I think that’s between Althea and me, don’t you?” I gave her my best fake smile, showing teeth and everything.
She scowled. Well, tried to scowl. It was more like a lopsided squint. That Botox was really working. “Fine. I’ll get her. Wait here.” She walked around the reception desk, her lipo shrunk butt wiggling in her barely-there skirt. I didn’t know how she got away with wearing that kind of stuff to work. Honestly it was the kind of outfit I’d have to
