Death By High Heels (The Kim Murphy PI Series Book 1) (25 page)

“Are you crazy? I told you not to bring her here.” I heard a woman’s voice say.

“Well, what else was I supposed to do? She was just sitting on the ground. I thought it was a sign,” Kevin said.

“A sign? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Like God telling me it was okay to get her and bring her here to you.”

“What the hell am I going to do with her? If she wakes up, she could have us arrested for kidnapping,” the woman said.

“No way, I didn’t kidnap her. I think something bad happened to her, but I swear it wasn’t me.”

Oh no. What the heck was going on? It sounded like my
hero
had just kidnapped me. How the freak had I managed to get kidnapped not once but twice in a matter of hours? If my dad found out about this he’d have me married off and having babies like my sister. I shuddered. As much as I adored my nieces and nephews I wasn’t ready to be anyone’s mom. Besides, I’d tried the wife thing and that hadn’t exactly been a rousing success. After tonight, I had to admit my dad’s plan held some merit, at least more than it had last week or even this morning.

“Bringing her here was a bad idea. What if someone saw you with her?”

“I’m not an idiot. No one saw us and I made sure I wasn’t being followed.”

“Good. Now you can take her back to wherever the hell it is you found her.”

“I can’t take her back there. She could get hurt or worse.”

Well, at least someone was concerned for my safety.

The woman he was arguing with sighed. “Did you honestly think she’d help us after you kidnapped her?”

“Stop saying that. I helped her, that’s all. I’m sure she’ll help us now. She owes us, well, me, anyway.”

“She sure as hell wasn’t willing to help before.”

“That’s because she couldn’t then, but she can now. You’ll see.”

“She’d better.”

“She will. So, are you going to help me get her inside or not?”

“Fine, but if she pukes all over my carpet, you’ll be cleaning it up.”

“Okay.”

Just great. What the heck was I supposed to do? I closed my eyes and tilted my head to the side just in time for Kevin to open the passenger side car door. I was impressed when he scooped me up and carried me out of the garage and down a long hall. I wasn’t really heavy, it was just Kevin didn’t strike me as the type with a lot of upper body strength or any body strength at all. After a few turns he placed me down on a bed. I held my breath while he placed a blanket over me. A few seconds later I heard the door shut behind him.

As far as kidnappings went I had to admit I much preferred Kevin’s method. It didn’t make any sense. Why did he kidnap me and then tuck me into bed? That thought led to some really creepy ones I just didn’t have the energy to think about. Besides, I wasn’t really getting the creepy feeling here, but then what the hell did I know? Plus my brain wasn’t exactly functioning at a hundred percent. I stayed still for a few minutes in case Kevin or his lady friend decided to check on me. When neither one appeared, I eased up and looked around. It seemed I’d been relegated to someone’s guest room. The queen-size bed was way too soft and fluffy for my taste and someone had placed half a dozen pillows on it. The furnishings were upscale. Just because I couldn’t afford it didn’t mean I didn’t recognize it when I saw it.

My search for a phone turned up empty. What the heck kind of person had a guest room without a phone? Maybe Kevin and his friend weren’t as hopeless at this kidnapping thing as I’d thought. Though I couldn’t figure out how they could have planned Kevin’s finding me on the side of the road. The closet was empty except for a bunch of fancy cloth covered hangers—not exactly an ideal weapon. Unless, of course, I hoped they would laugh themselves to death. The dresser drawers weren’t of any help either. In the bathroom I had my choice of weapons: a toothbrush still in the package, a strawberry-shaped soap, or an unopened condom, which wasn’t exactly the type of protection I was in need of at the moment.

As for exits, the window in the bathroom was way too small. Back in the bedroom, there were two big enough for me to climb out of. The one on the right was directly behind a side table with a lamp. I was a bit of a klutz under the best of circumstances, and this was not the best, but not exactly the worst either, but it didn’t seem prudent to try to move furniture around. The other one was free of any obstacles. I pushed aside the flowery curtains and flipped the latch. I held my breath and slid open the window. God, fate, or karma chose that moment for the bedroom door to open. I spun around and grabbed a vase.

“Put her down!”

“Huh?”

“My grandmother, you’re holding her urn.”

Sometimes it didn’t pay to ask questions. I placed the urn back down, careful not to spill any of Grandma on me.

“Thank you.”

“Uh, sure.”

“Well, you may as well come into the living room, but please stay off the furniture. You reek.” She turned around without waiting for me to follow.

I sniffed and winced. Until then I hadn’t noticed but all that time in the water had left a disgusting odor. If I was lucky, it would only take a couple of hours of scrubbing to feel clean again. Unfortunately there would be no saving the dress or the shoes. Oh well, maybe I could think of it as an excuse to go shopping. Eager to get this night over with I closed the window and traipsed through the house, looking for the living room. When I spotted Kevin I figured I’d found it. He was not alone.

“Mrs. Hardin, I guess I should thank you for your hospitality.”

“Don’t thank me, I had nothing to do with this.” She turned and looked at Kevin seated on the couch next to her.

“Sorry, Miss Murphy. When you fell asleep I thought I should bring you here.”

“Why?”

“You know, so you could rest before you helped us.”

“Help you?

“Yeah, well, us.” He pointed unnecessarily at Mrs. Hardin before pointing to himself.

“Kevin, this is ridiculous. She’s in no shape to help anyone. Besides, she already turned me down.”

“There were extenuating circumstances.”

“Of course there were. You conveniently forgot to mention you were friends with my husband’s latest little slut.”

“Huh?”

“Lindsay Pembrook.”

“Oh, well, she’s just a neighbor. I don’t know anything about whatever.”

“Yeah, right. I’ve gotta say, I figured you’d be a better liar than that.”

I thought it funny she was concerned about the woman her husband was sleeping with while she was dressed in a gray silk robe, snuggled up on the couch against Kevin, who looked mighty comfortable there. “So, I guess you and Kevin are just friends?”

“Now, Miss Murphy, this isn’t what it looks like. We’re in love.”

“Congratulations. Does Mr. Hardin know?”

“No, and we’d like to keep it that way, for now anyway.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“I told you, Kevin, she wouldn’t understand. Just get her out of here.” Mrs. Hardin moved as if to stand up. Kevin grabbed her hand and pulled her back against him.

“You didn’t give her a chance last time. I mean, you lied to her. I’m sure if you tell her the truth, she’ll help us.”

He may have been sure, but I certainly wasn’t.

“Fine.” She sighed and turned toward me. “When I came to your office I lied about needing proof my cheating scumbag of a husband has been busy banging his little bleach blonde bitch.”

I had to fight the urge to warn her about the whole pot and kettle saying, but I figured she probably wouldn’t understand.

“Lizzie, come on, start at the beginning.”

Oh, yes, please, Lizzie, please do. It wasn’t as if I didn’t have anything better to do in the middle of the freaking night than listen to your self-absorbed ramblings.

“A few months ago, I found out about my husband’s, uh, infidelities. I wanted to hurt him. One afternoon I was at Evan’s office and met Kevin in the waiting area. We got to talking and, well, one thing led to another.” She stopped talking and turned toward Kevin. Their eyes met and both wore the same silly smiles on their faces.

Oh, gross. “And?” I prompted.

“We fell in love, Miss Murphy. We didn’t mean to, it just happened.”

“Congratulations. Now what does any of that have to do with me?”

“Go on, Lizzie, tell her.”

“Well, my husband has been married before, twice actually. So when we got married he insisted I sign a prenup.”

“So you tried to hire me because you wanted proof of his cheating,” I said.

“Yes, but that was only part of it.” She turned and looked at Kevin.

“Brian had pictures of us. He threatened to give the pictures to Mr. Hardin if we didn’t help him with a problem,” Kevin said.

“Your friend was blackmailing you?” I asked.

“No, I mean, yeah, sort of, but he didn’t want to. He just didn’t have any other choice.”

I couldn’t believe Lizzie and Kevin had just given me a large motive for Brian’s murder. Though I couldn’t see how any of the others fit into this.

“Look, Miss Murphy, I know what you’re thinkin’ and I swear we didn’t mean to do it.”

I so did not want to hear a confession right now. Though I had no one to blame but myself for getting into this mess, all I wanted was a shower, my bed, and the cops to arrest Brian’s, Adam’s, and Angie’s killer or killers. Was that really too much to ask for?

“Wait a minute. Did you say something about needing my help?” I asked, hoping to put off the confession until I was safely surrounded by, oh, I didn’t know, an entire SWAT team maybe.

“Oh, well, we were hoping you could help us find the pictures.”

“What makes you think I could find them?”

“Because you had one on your desk when I was in your office,” Lizzie said.

“What? Wait a minute, the picture of the party?”

“Yes, Kevin and I were in the background. Brian took a bunch of pictures that night. He didn’t even know about us until he printed the pictures off his computer and looked at them.”

“Yeah, they were partying at a hotel and some old buddies were in town. Lizzie and I were having our own party. I didn’t know which hotel the guys were staying at, so we got out of there as fast as we could.”

“It just wasn’t fast enough,” said Lizzie.

“Please, Miss Murphy, we’ve looked everywhere for those pictures. Where did you find the picture?”

I considered my answer carefully. Since it didn’t matter now I figured it was safe to answer the question truthfully—sort of.

“At Angie’s apartment.” I tried unsuccessfully to block out the image of Angie that slammed back into my brain. I had to get out of here and call the police.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Kevin asked.

“Well, they were broken up. Why would he hide something at his ex-girlfriend’s place?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He smiled.

“You know, as much as I’ve enjoyed this, I’m exhausted. Why don’t the two of you meet me in my office later tomorrow or today or whatever?”

“Fine,” Lizzie said before turning toward Kevin. “Take her home and then hurry back.”

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother, I’ll just…” I stopped talking because I wasn’t quite sure how to end that sentence.

“It’s no problem, really. It’s the least I can do for all the trouble I’ve caused.”

“Trouble? What trouble?” I asked, forgetting I wasn’t really in the mood for answers.

“Well, you see, it’s kind of my fault you got hurt.” Kevin stared at the floor.

“Your fault? You hit me in the back of the head?”

“No, I’d never do that.”

“Then what the hell are you talking about?”

“I…it’s just. Oh hell, I’m the one who searched Lindsay’s apartment after Brian was killed.”

“I’m going to need more than that.”

“I was looking for the pictures and I was so scared about the cops showing up I left without locking the door. I was halfway home when I realized it. I turned around and went back. That’s when…”

“When what?”

“When I…found you on the patio.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you were out cold. I didn’t want to just leave you outside like that, so I carried you inside Lindsay’s apartment.”

“You left me there? What about calling 9-1-1 for help? What if the person who attacked me came back?”

“They didn’t. I stayed with you until you woke up then I got in my car. When the first cop car showed up, I left. I figured you’d be okay then.”

I stared at Kevin, unsure of what to say. He had brought me inside, but instead of calling for help, he just watched over me. Of course there was nothing creepy about that or anything. Yeah right. I was at a complete loss. Between the alcohol, two kidnappings, finding Angie’s body, and my long escape, it was all just too much. All I wanted was to crawl into bed and when I woke up in, say, a day or two, the murders would be solved, the reporters would have kindly dropped off a cliff, and these two would never darken my door or life again.