A Gigolo for Christmas Read Online Free Page A

punch you were
serving.”
    “There wasn’t any alcohol in the punch.”
    “Oh, come now, Miss Everett,
there’s always alcohol in the punch at the office Christmas party, and
everybody always denies adding it.”
    “There wasn’t any alcohol in the
punch. There isn’t even any alcohol in my house. Um, no, that’s not true. Several
of the guests brought me bottles of wine as hostess gifts. They’re all in the
refrigerator, unopened. But I don’t drink, and I didn’t put any booze in the
punch. Furthermore, I spent most of the evening in the kitchen within reach of
the punch bowl, and I didn’t see anyone else add anything to the punch either.
I’d offer to let you take some of the punch to the lab to prove it, but it all
ended up on the carpet.”
    “Do you mind if I search your
kitchen for empties?”
    Sheila shook her head, which made
her cheek hurt. “Feel free.” She waved her hand in the direction of the
kitchen. “While you’re in there, would you mind getting me...there’s a cloth
bag in the door of the freezer. I’d like it to put on my face.”
    The officer made quick work of
searching not only the kitchen, but the rest of the apartment as well, then
returned with the cold bag from the freezer. Sheila placed the soothing
coolness gently against her battered cheek.
    “No evidence of alcohol having
been added to the punch, either by you or by someone at the party, unless one
of the guests carried the bottle away with them. So what was in the
punch?”
    Sheila sighed. “Two cups of
sugar, two packets of cherry Kool-Aid, two quarts of water, and two liters of
7-up. I made up a fresh batch each time I refilled the bowl. If Santa was
drunk, he got that way before he got here. As a matter of fact, I don’t think
he actually arrived at the party, other than making it as far as the front
porch. I never saw him come inside.”
    The police officer made a few
more notes, closed his book, and put it away. “In that case, I think we’re done
here, at least for tonight. You’ll be notified if anything else comes up.” He
pulled out a business card and scribbled on the back of it.
    “This is the number that will be
on the report I’ll be filing. Anything official that comes to you will have
this number somewhere on it. The courts are all pretty backed up, though, and
it will probably be at least a couple of months before you will hear anything.”
    “Um...Mr. Kooper said he was
going to evict me...”
    “That’s between you and him, and
depends on the terms of your lease. It’s not a police matter, but do call the
number on the front of the card when and if you have a new address. They’ll
need to know the report number, and they can update the records.”
    He turned and left the apartment,
closing the door behind him.
    Sheila followed the officer
across the room and locked the door behind him, then closed the window. Without
the body heat of the guests, the apartment was now quite chilly. She heard the
heater crank on, and turned off the light in the living room. All she wanted to
do now was sleep and forget tonight had ever happened to her.
    She flipped off the kitchen light
and made a quick trip to the restroom. There was no new blood on the bandage,
so she assumed her scratches had stopped bleeding. She’d take a good look at
them tomorrow when she changed the bandage, and see how badly she was hurt. For
tonight, she just wanted to go to sleep and get this day over with.
    Sheila walked into her bedroom,
automatically skirting the bed as she crossed to the window and pulled it
closed, then closed the blinds. She quickly pulled her ruined velvet pantsuit
off, and draped it across the top of the laundry bag where it hung from the
stand in the closet. Maybe a good dry cleaner could save the expensive outfit.
It was at least worth a try. She pulled on the favorite oversized sweats she
preferred to use for nightwear then made sure her windows were latched and the
door had been locked.
    Emotionally