Death By High Heels (The Kim Murphy PI Series Book 1) (2 page)

My neighbor twisted her hands in front of her. “I’ll be staying at the Lakeview Inn for the next couple of days. I wanted you to know how to reach me if anything comes up,” she said, ignoring my sarcasm.

“Okay, great. Try to get some rest,” I said.

“Thanks.”

After Lindsay left, I sat back down on the couch. Half an hour later the doorbell rang again. I opened the door and let Grant inside. My heart began to race. If anyone asked, I’d lie and say it was from the upcoming interrogation, not the rush of lust I felt whenever the pain in the ass was around. He sat down in a chair across from me while I curled up on the couch. It only seemed fair that I should be comfortable while being grilled by one of Lakeview’s finest and hottest detectives.

“Start from the beginning,” Grant said, not wasting time on little things like pleasantries or manners.

“There’s not a lot to tell. Someone started banging on my door. The second I opened it, Lindsay started screaming that she thought she killed some guy in her apartment.”

His gray eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute, she confessed to killing him?”

“No. She told me that when she got home some guy was sitting in the chair. Supposedly, she took off her shoe, hit him in the back of the head, put her shoe back on, and then ran over to my place.”

“Then what happened?”

“I went inside her apartment, she stayed by the door. I was looking at the body when Officer Duncan arrived.”

“What time did she knock on your door?”

“About six thirty.”

We spent the next few minutes going over everything again. Finally, I filled out the statement and signed my name.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Grant said.

I thought I had managed to hide my revulsion rather well. I should have known better than to try to hide something from a homicide detective.

“Thanks,” I whispered as I handed him the paperwork.

Grant placed his hand over mine. I closed my eyes and had to remind myself to breathe.

“Oh, hell.”

I opened my eyes in time to see Grant toss the papers onto the coffee table. He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine. The simple taste wasn’t enough. Grant must have felt the same as he took full possession of my mouth with his. For months I’d wondered what he tasted like and now I had my answer, coffee and chocolate. How lucky for me those were two of my very favorite things.

I slid my hands up his arms, feeling the tightened muscles through his clothes. Grant groaned and pulled me against him. I tore my lips from his to whisper, “Upstairs.”

Grant opened his eyes and suddenly stopped his delectable assault on my mouth. His hands dropped to his sides and he sighed as he stepped away from me.

“Damn! You make me forget where I’m at.”

“Thanks.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

What the hell did that mean?

“I’ve got to go or the chief will have my head.”

My dad was a tough but fair man. However, if he discovered one of his detectives was too busy pawing his daughter to get his work done, there was no telling what punishment my dad would dole out.

“Well, I’ll be in touch if I need you for anything else.”

A sigh escaped my lips. “You know where to find me.”

“Yeah, I do.” He lifted his hand toward me and dropped it back at his side. “Good night.” He closed the door behind him.

I curled up on the couch and grabbed the remote. Half a dozen channels later I settled on a
Last
Cake Standing
marathon. A knock on the door made for the fourth rude interruption of the day. Worse, I was going to miss the teams moving their cakes to the judging area. At the door, I peeked through the peephole. With the front porch light on I recognized the local news station’s reporter, Mr. Abraham, who, along with several others, had been relentless six months ago. I had never been especially fond of reporters, sticking their microphones in peoples’ faces and asking them how they felt. There had to be a more useless job somewhere in the world but I just had no earthly idea where or what that would be. I did know the next one who got in my face was going to get a lot worse than a few nasty words flung their way. Careful not to make any sound, I crept back to the couch. On the show, one team was applying butter cream frosting—one of man’s greatest inventions. Now that should be on an episode of
Modern Marvels
. There was one more round of knocking and then silence. A few minutes later the phone began to ring.

Choosing to ignore the phone, I went back to watching TV. The downside was these kinds of shows always made me hungry. I suffered for an hour before going into the kitchen in search of a chocolate fix. Several minutes of frantic searching and I came to the horrible conclusion that there wasn’t even a crumb of chocolate. This was a crisis, not of biblical proportions, but more like it was the week before my period and there was no chocolate. This was so not good for someone who carried a gun.

After the day I’d had, the smart thing would have been to go to bed. My need for chocolate would almost always win over the need for sleep. I grabbed my purse and headed out before I came to my senses. Fat chance that would happen.

There was street parking in the front, but most of us preferred our assigned spots in the lot behind the building. Each apartment received one assigned space. Carports were available for an additional sixty bucks a month. I lived on a budget and it so wasn’t worth the money. Besides, the snow still managed to get inside and cover the cars anyway.

I got into my 2010 black BMW. The car had been a tight squeeze with my income but it had been a necessary expense. My job took me to some fancy neighborhoods. I needed a car that would blend in. Housekeepers would report a suspicious vehicle if I parked on the street in a twelve-year-old Honda Accord, my previous vehicle.

My apartment was only three minutes away from a pharmacy open twenty-four hours. Once inside, I grabbed a basket and went straight for the candy aisle. For some reason I always found it necessary to scope out every item even though I always bought my favorites: Reese’s Cups, Hershey’s Bars, and 3 Musketeers. After dumping a couple of each into my basket, I made my way to the book and magazine aisle where I added a
People
magazine and three
Harlequin Blaze
romance books.

The pimply twenty-something boy behind the register asked if I needed anything else. I was tempted to ask for a pack of Capri Menthol cigarettes. Instead, I paid for my purchases then glared at him when he was dumb enough to ask if I needed a bag. No, I thought I’d juggle the stuff back to my car. With a sigh, he stuffed my items into a plastic bag and muttered for me to have a good day.

Back home, I parked in my space and started to cross the parking lot. Everything looked normal, lights on and doors closed, until I glanced at the back of Lindsay’s apartment. A sliver of light peaked through the sliding doors. I veered toward her apartment. As I got closer I could see the light was escaping the open door.

“Teenagers,” I muttered.

Our apartment building backed up to one of the city’s many parks. There was a playground, a soccer field, and a baseball diamond. Police patrolled the area looking for teenagers determined to get into all sorts of mischief. My guest bedroom had a view of the picnic tables and the bathrooms.

I used the bag to slide the door open several inches and gasped. Couch cushions were sliced open and an end table lay on its side. Paintings had been taken off the wall and ripped from their frames. It was hard to believe how just a few hours earlier the place had been spotless, well, except for the chair with the dead guy in it. The police certainly hadn’t done this and I didn’t believe teenagers had either.

I reached into my purse for my cell phone and cried out at a sharp pain to the back of my head.

Chapter Two

After several attempts, I finally managed to get my eyes open. At least I thought I had. It was so dark, who could tell. I moved around and regretted it immediately. I could have sworn some teenager was using the back of my head as a set of drums.

I sat up slowly and checked the rest of my body for injuries. Finding none, I sighed in relief at the realization I was fully clothed. I stood up and waited. Nothing bad happened so I started my search for a wall and a light switch. I took five steps and promptly fell forward, landing with a thud.

“Ouch!” Where the heck was I? The palms of my hands burned from what I assumed were about a billion tiny shards of glass. Okay, it was probably closer to a hundred, but dang it hurt.

Crawling, trying to avoid more obstacles, my hand brushed against what I sincerely hoped was my purse. I reached inside, searching for my cell phone. What I found was a flashlight. I flipped it on and looked around. Evidently, whoever attacked me had dragged me into Lindsay’s apartment. Swell, I had just inadvertently gotten my DNA all over Grant’s crime scene.

Using the flashlight, I looked in my purse for my cell phone. Of course I had to get past a can of mace, a hairbrush, and my checkbook before my hands closed around my phone.

The blood made dialing difficult but I finally managed to make my call.

“Hello,” a sleepy voice answered.

“Grant, it’s Kim.”

“Look, Kim, if you remembered something or wanted to confess, you could have waited until the morning to call.”

“I thought you’d want to know your crime scene’s been tampered with, but if you’re not interested…good night.”

“Wait a minute. What the hell are you talking about?” Grant shouted into the phone.

“Lindsay’s back door was open and the tape was off.” For my own safety I didn’t mention the destruction inside or the damage I’d done. He was a smart guy, he’d figure it out for himself.

“Did you call this in to the station?”

“No, I thought you’d want to know first.”

“Fine,” he said before hanging up on me.

“You’re welcome,” I muttered.

Deciding I’d done enough damage, I tried to stay as still as possible while I waited for Grant.

“Freeze, hands up!”

I didn’t recognize the patrol officer who showed up a few minutes later. “Really, do I look like I’m moving?”

“Oh jeez, you’re bleeding.”

Wow, the guy was a genius. I was going to have to talk to my dad about the hiring requirements. He grabbed his radio and mumbled into it. Lucky me, he was probably inviting more people to the party.

“What the hell is going on here?” Grant demanded.

I couldn’t believe he showed up dressed in a suit and had even managed to put on a tie. The guy must sleep in his clothes. Actually, a guy like Grant probably slept naked. I looked him up and down and stifled a groan. I was positive that under the suit and tie was a rock hard body I’d love to get my hands on. Now was not the time to be considering Grant’s sleeping habits, or any other kind of habits, as I tore my eyes from his crotch.

“It’s nice to see you too,” I said.

“Detective, she was sitting there on the floor.”

“Go outside and secure the perimeter. I don’t want any reporters getting their cameras in here.”

“Yes, sir.” The poor guy practically ran out of the apartment. I guessed getting yelled at by a detective wasn’t his idea of a fun evening. It was a shame I couldn’t make the same fast exit.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Your concern for my well-being is somewhat lacking. Don’t you think?”

“Sorry. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

“Could you hurry up? I have plans.”

He didn’t need to know my plans involved reading a romance novel and consuming more chocolate in one sitting than a human should in a week.

Grant returned with a camera in one hand and a towel in the other. He gently wrapped the towel around my hands. I sat in the middle of the carnage while he snapped away, getting every angle he could. These pictures would definitely not be making it into the family photo album.

Flash, flash, flash.
“Kim, hold still.”

“Sorry. I’m just glad my being attacked hasn’t interfered with you doing your job.”

Flash.
“Attacked? What do you mean attacked?” he asked, the camera down at his side.

“As in someone assaulted me. Didn’t they teach you about that before you made detective?”

“Shit! Kim, I’m sorry. I thought…”

“What? Go on say it.”

“Look, it’s not my fault. You’ve been at too many crime scenes lately. I thought you were at it again.”

“At what again?” I asked.

“Snooping.”

“Snooping? You are such an—”

“Ass, yeah, I know.” Grant tossed the camera strap over his neck then leaned down. He grabbed my arms and pulled me gently to my feet. We stood mere inches apart.

“I’m sorry. I should have known you wouldn’t—”

“Detective, what the devil is going on here?”

Grant dropped his hands and stepped back.

“Chief, I was just helping her up.”

“Kimberly, what happened to you?”

“Dad, I’m fine, really, just some cuts and a bump on the head.”

For a moment, Sean Murphy stopped acting like the tough but fair police chief and became the worried, loving father that was his other job.

I walked over to where he stood just inside the doorway. Concern etched lines in his strong, weathered face. A face I had always been able to depend on. The last thing I wanted to see was disappointment. “Dad, I swear I didn’t do this.”

He looked around the room. “Of course you didn’t. Your mother and I raised you better than that.” He turned toward Grant. “Get the paramedics here now.”

“Yes, sir.” Grant walked past us and stepped outside.

“Dad, I’ll be fine.”

“Yes, you will, because you’re going to the hospital,” he said in a voice I knew from past experience would not tolerate any argument.

“Okay.”

“Good. While we wait, can you tell me what happened here?”

“I came home from running an errand and noticed one side of the police tape wasn’t attached. I could also see light coming through the door. I figured it was kids, but when I got closer I realized the sliding door was open.”

“Then what?”

“I got hit in the back of the head. When I woke up I was on the floor. I got up to find a way out and tripped over the mess on the floor.”

“That’s how you got the cuts on your hands?”

“Yes.”

“Damn,” Grant muttered.

I glanced over and saw him standing in the doorway.

My father sighed. “Is there any way I can talk you into quitting this job, getting married, and giving me grandchildren to spoil?”

There it was. What he wanted for all of his children, but most especially for his daughters. My sister, Brenna, was doing her part to populate the Earth, so why wasn’t I? He probably wondered where he and my mother had gone wrong.

“Dad, this had nothing to do with my job.”

“Well, I suppose…”

Grant cleared his throat. “Chief, the paramedics are here.”

“About time,” my dad muttered.

I was forced into the back of the ambulance. Grant’s frowning face was the last thing I saw before the doors were closed and I was whisked away to Lakeview Hospital North. I’d always found the name choice odd since there wasn’t a Lakeview Hospital South, East, or West.

After several shots to numb the pain, a cute doctor with a wedding band plucked every piece of glass out of my skin. Only a few were deep enough to require stitches. Luckily, the bump on my head didn’t require any. My parents and brothers arrived just in time to hear the news that I had suffered a mild concussion. My mother looked ready to nurture. If my dad hadn’t been holding her hand, she probably would have tossed the hospital staff out of my room so she could take over my care.

I became less thrilled with the doctor’s medical expertise when he announced I’d be spending the night for observation. A female officer arrived and stayed in the room while I removed my clothes. She placed the bloody mess into a bag and sealed it shut. Instead of being stuck in a hospital gown, I was able to change into clothes my mom brought with her.

Over the next hour, half the female staff must have come in to check my vitals, see if I had enough pillows, or to make sure I was warm enough. It would have been appreciated if their motive had been dedication to their patient instead of lusting over my twin brothers, Justin and Jason, who had both arrived at the hospital in their SWAT uniforms.

It was nice having so much of my family there, but when my mom finally kicked everyone out, I was grateful for the quiet. After watching her dispose of the hot and bothered nursing staff, I was pretty confident my mom could get a job as a bouncer at even the roughest bar in Dayton.

My dad left promising to return in the morning. My mom made herself comfortable in the empty bed next to mine. I closed my eyes and tried to keep the tossing and turning to a minimum so as not to disturb her.

I must have drifted off because I awoke to something moving across my forehead. As I suffered from an acute fear of anything creepy, crawly, or slithery, I jerked up and barely missed bashing my head into Grant’s face. “What the hell!”

“Quiet. You’ll wake up your mom.”

I glanced over and she was on her side, facing me with her eyes closed.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered.

“I wanted to see for myself that you were all right.”

“Thanks, but I’d feel better if I were at home in my own bed.”

Grant cleared his throat and looked away.

“What?” I asked, placing my hand on top of his.

“Just thinking something I shouldn’t.”

“Well, now you have to tell me.”

Grant leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Taking you home to bed. You’re smart. I’m sure you can figure out just exactly what I’d like to do to you.”

A groan escaped my lips. Grant placed his hand on the side of my face and turned me toward him.

“Sir, visiting hours are over.”

We turned and found one of the horny nurses from earlier standing in the doorway, her hand on her hip.

Grant sighed. “I was just leaving.” He placed a chaste kiss on my cheek then walked quietly past the rude intruder and out of my room.

“Lord, you have more handsome men visiting you than a girl has a right to.”

“Just family and friends.”

“Uh-huh. That man was looking at you like you were on the menu.”

I sighed.

“No more visitors tonight. You need your sleep.”