Homicide in High Heels Read Online Free Page B

going to do much for his business. The salon was Faux Dad's
life. I couldn't let the speculation take it down. While I had
complete faith in Ramirez to get to the bottom of things, it
couldn't hurt to just go talk to Ratski, could it?
    "Okay. Let's go talk to the ball player," I
conceded.
    Marco let out a high-pitched squeal.
    "But just talk ," I emphasized. "No
'info pumping.'"
    "Right." Marco nodded. "Just talk."
    "He'll be in at four," Ling informed me.
    I paused. "Be in…"
    "The Glitter Galaxy."
    Mental forehead thunk. "We're talking to him
at the strip club ?"
    "Well it's not like he'd give me his home
address," Ling said, rolling her eyes. "Duh! How would that look to
his wife?"
    Oh, boy. Why did I have a feeling I'd just
aligned myself with Tweedle Diva and Tweedle Devious?

CHAPTER THREE
     
    Once Marco and Ling left, I still had a few
hours to kill before my strip club appearance and felt obligated to
play domestic goddess. I did a round of dishes, loaded the washing
machine, and even pulled the vacuum out of the closet. Luckily I
was saved from actually using it when my cell rang, displaying my
best friend, Dana's, number.
    "Ohmigod, Maddie," she yelled in my ear as
soon as I picked up. "I just saw it on the news. What
happened?"
    I quickly filled her in on all I knew,
ending with my plans to question Ratski at the Glitter Galaxy later
that afternoon.
    "So you think the boyfriend did it?" she
asked when I'd finished.
    "I don't know," I told her honestly. "But
there are only two possibilities. One—it's a total random
killing."
    Dana sucked in a breath.
    "Or, two—someone close to her wanted her
dead. Someone who knew her tanning schedule."
    "Too creepy. I'm never going to look at a
spray booth the same."
    I'd ditto that. I just hoped Fernando's
clients didn't feel the same way.
    "Well, I wish I could go with you," Dana
continued, "but I'm shooting until three."
    "How's it going?" I asked, tucking my phone
in the crook of my neck as I intervened between the twins. Livvie
had grabbed Max's toy duck, causing tiny screams of protest. I
picked up my little thief, hoisting her onto my hip.
    "It's flippin' freezing here. They have me
in a bathing suit on the Golden Gate Bridge. Can you believe? It's
fog city."
    "How many more days do you have?"
    "Hopefully this is it. If we can get the sun
to peek out enough to get the shots today."
    "Well, good luck," I told her.
    "Thanks. Hey, by the way, I got the
invitation."
    "What invitation?" I asked, switching the
phone to the other ear as I deposited Livvie into her high chair
along with another handful of Cheerios.
    "To the twins' birthday party. It was
adorable. Where did you get it?"
    I groaned. "I haven't actually seen them.
This is all Marco's doing."
    "Oh, they're beautiful. Linen and gold
embossed, with a light tissue overlay. Cute but super classy."
    I felt myself mentally adding up the cost of
that classiness as the guest of honor tried to stick a Cheerio up
her nose.
    "Anyway, I'll be there for sure," Dana told
me.
    I didn't have the heart to tell her I was
still a maybe.

    * * *
     
    After I had fed, changed, burped, then
re-changed the twins, I packed them and their diaper bag into my
minivan and drove them to my mom's house. Mom had graciously agreed
to watch them while I "took care of some business." I let her
believe it had to do with my shoe designing business and not
investigating business. I didn't want to get her, or Faux Dad's,
hopes up that this trek to the strip club was going to yield any
results. Personally, I still thought it was a leap to assume the
boyfriend was guilty, and an even bigger leap to assume he might
have purged his guilty conscience to his best friend.
    "How are my babies?" Mom squealed as soon as
I walked in the front door, attacking Livvie and Max in a round of
perfume scented hugs.
    "Fed and mostly clean," I answered for
them.
    "Oh, wait until you see what Grammy bought
for you-oooo," Mom sing-songed.
    I tried to hide my dread. While I