Motion for Murder (26 page)

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Authors: Kelly Rey

BOOK: Motion for Murder
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On the drive home, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

 

*  *  *

 

Curt still wasn't home, which made me wonder if he'd had an out-of-state delivery. I parked at the head of the driveway, leaving plenty of room for his Cherokee, and took the stairs to my apartment two at a time, feeling curiously light despite my full belly. I spent fifteen minutes straightening up and another ten flicking through game shows and cable news channels and year-old movies before I gave up and decided to unwind with some yoga.

I was barefoot and curled into child's pose when someone knocked on my door. Pulling myself upright, I brushed the hair from my face with a frown. Since Curt wasn't home and Sherri didn't seem to be working too hard on my barbecue cheat sheet, my roster of potential visitors was limited.

But not limited enough. It was Hilary Heath dripping on my landing in a classic Burberry raincoat, flat shoes, and Gucci handbag.

"I, um…" I meant to say. "I'm on my way out," but I was standing there barefoot and probably couldn't have pulled that off.

"I'm not happy about this, either." She followed me into the kitchen. I was determined not to let her near my bed; last time that had happened, I hadn't been able to sleep right for two nights. "I'll make it quick."

"A phone call would've been quick," I said.

She dropped her handbag on my stack of mail and a dark stain blossomed on my phone bill. "Forget about Paige."

"Done," I said, handing her purse to her. "Good-night."

"I'm serious." She took it and set it down on my newspaper. "I know Paige didn't kill my Doug."

That got my attention. "You do."

She nodded. "So I'm sorry for the misdirection. Innocent mistake." She cocked her head, looking at me. "You look different tonight."

"So do you," I said nastily.

"Oh. That." She didn't bother to look embarrassed. "I wouldn't expect you to understand a place like the Black Orchid. People like you aren't meant for that world."

People like me. I took her by the elbow. "I think you should be going. I'm in the middle of something."

"I didn't mean it as an insult," she said.

"Sure you did." I opened the door for her. "Good-night."

She turned and looked at me with her strange viper eyes. "So this means you're going to reconsider Missy, right?"

I blinked. "Missy?"

"Don't you see? If it wasn't Paige, it had to be Missy."

"What about Howard?"

She waved an impatient hand. "I know the lineup. It wasn't any of those people. It was Missy. You'll see." She stepped out onto the landing. I noticed the rain had stopped. It was probably afraid to fall on her. "We'll talk later," she said. "I think I'll have an offer for you that you won't want to refuse."

What she lacked in originality, she made up for in shock value. I couldn't imagine what that offer might be, but I had no intention of accepting it.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

 

I reconsidered that intention around ten-thirty the next morning when I was confronted by Theodore Faulk, the new client most likely to become the next Adam Tiddle. I was trying to clear a week of Wally's calendar due to an impending trial when a sheaf of papers dropped onto my desk. "These are all wrong." Theodore was standing in front of me with his lips pursed and his face pinched. He looked like a drawstring bag with the string pulled too tight. "Wally told me you typed these. You made a lot of mistakes. I don't appreciate that."

Suppressing a sigh, I flipped through the pages. "But you came in last week to meet with Wally to answer these." No typos that I could see. "If the answers are incorrect, you should take it up with Wally."

He snorted. "You legal people, you're all alike. Always passing the buck."

"I don't amend the content, sir," I said. "I only type what you and Wally have written."

"But I didn't write this." He jammed his hands in his pockets. "I said I didn't see the stop sign. You people said I saw it but my brakes failed. That's not true."

Oh.

"The lawyer said something about suing my mechanic." His shoulders lifted and fell. "I don't want to sue my mechanic. He didn't do anything wrong. My brakes were fine. I just didn't see the stop sign." His cheeks reddened. "I was looking at a girl on the sidewalk."

Geez. This guy had come to the wrong law firm. Parker, Dennis never expected their clients to be completely truthful, and they were rarely disappointed.

"Mr. Faulk." Missy appeared at his elbow. "Tell you what, let's go see if Wally's free right now. I'm sure he'd like to know about this." Her eyes slid to mine as she guided him into a turn toward the stairs. I mouthed, "Thank you," and headed into the kitchen for my midmorning sugar reinforcement.

What I got was a shock. My sister and Ken Parker were cozied up together at the kitchen table, her hand resting on his forearm, her brown head close to his white one as if she'd been whispering in his ear. Maybe she had; he was blushing like a frat boy. Both were ignoring their cups of coffee and the open box of doughnuts on the table. I hadn't even known she was there, and she'd managed to hone in on the senior partner. Maybe she did have a working plan after all. Still, the entire scene was so surreal it knocked me into autopilot, heading straight to the doughnuts. I nodded at Ken, but I don't think he noticed. "When did you get here?" I asked Sherri through a chocolate glazed.

She shrugged and gave me a tight little smile "A few minutes ago. I thought I'd stop by since I missed you last night. I went to the movies." She looked at Ken. "Do you like the movies, Kenny?"

Ken nodded mutely, watching her like a dog watches a T-bone.

"Shouldn't you be at the store?" I asked. I didn't like what I was seeing. Actually, I wasn't
sure
what I was seeing. But I was sure I didn't like it. I reached for the doughnut box. Something flickered across Ken's face, and I pulled my hand back. Guess Sherri's misbehavior was the only thing he was willing to overlook.

"I took the day off." She winked at Ken. "Do you ever feel like taking the day off and just staying in bed, Kenny?"

Ken's head bobbed up and down. I tried to block the image of him in bed all day, with my sister or anyone else. It was like picturing Santa Claus in his birthday suit. "I need to talk to you," I said to her. "There've been some developments."

She squeezed Ken's arm. "You don't mind, do you, Kenny? I'm sure a man like you understands about important business."

He kept on smiling while I dragged my sister into the hall. It was a little scary. She'd rendered one of the most eloquent trial lawyers in the county speechless. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I hissed. "He's married." I glanced over my shoulder, lowering my voice. "And sixty-eight."

She sighed. "You don't get it, do you? I'm practicing what I preach."

I blinked. "Huh?"

"You're a woman, Jamie. Don't you know how much power you have? An arm pat here, a whisper there, and before you know it they're handing over the keys to their vacation house." She shook her head. "Men are so easy."

"I will not flirt with my boss," I said. "There must be a better way."

"If there is, I haven't found it." She patted my shoulder. "I was trying to lead by example, but I can see I'm wasting my time. And after I went and typed everything out for you." She pulled a sheet of paper from her handbag and thrust it into my hands. I unfolded it and stared at the single word typed dead center in boldface 24 point print: FLIRT.

"No way." I crumpled it and shoved it in my pocket. "If that's the best you've got
"

"It's not the best," she said. "But it's damned good. It got me invited to the barbecue."

That stopped me in mid-rant. "You did not." She only smiled serenely, and I gave her arm a smack. "You can't go! Everyone will want to know what you're doing there. Including his wife."

"Relax." She rubbed her arm. "I have no intention of going. These people are too weird for me. I just want you to realize what you can do with a little
"

"Fondling?"

"Okay." She frowned. "Make fun of me, but it's the right formula. You'll see."

Maybe I would, and maybe I wouldn't, but I didn't have time to debate it. My break was almost over, and the phones were ringing. "Let me tell you." I pulled her to the end of the hallway as Paige walked past. She looked Sherri over, assessing the threat level, and evidently saw none, because she veered left into the kitchen. "Janice's computers came," I told her, speaking low and fast.

Her eyes lit up. She got it. "Microsoft 7?"

Maybe she didn't get it. "Not the point. The point is
"

"I was just wondering," Sherri said. "Might as well get the best, right? So she did buy them after all. How do you like that?"

"That's not all," I said. "Howard's father is a doctor. A psychiatrist. I tried to get an appointment with him
"

"Mom would be proud," she said.

I ignored that. "But he's recovering from a stroke, and the office is closed for now."

"Meaning it wasn't Janice, and it probably wasn't Howard." Sherri tapped her front teeth, thinking. "What about Wally?"

"I haven't ruled him out."

"No, I mean what about Wally? Is he free or is he dating someone?"

I rolled my eyes. "You are not dating Wally Randall. He's only a step above Frankie."

"Say what you want about Frankie," she said, "but he never killed anyone." She glanced at her watch. "Look, I can't hang around here all day. I've got things to do."

"Shopping?"

She flashed a smile. "Of course. Need anything?"

"A bathing suit for the barbecue." I didn't have the stomach to step into a fitting room while my body resembled a tube of Play-Doh.

Sherri was unfazed. "You got it. Hot pink thong?"

"One piece, black."

She sighed. "You really need some drama in your life."

"Are you kidding?" I said. "I've got all the drama I can handle. Look where I work."

 

*  *  *

 

Sherri stopped over later that night with a Macy's bag. "Size six," she said, tossing it to me.

"Did you get anything for yourself?" I peeked into the bag. Plain black and yes, one piece, proving that Sherri did occasionally pay attention when I opened my mouth.

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