Death By High Heels (The Kim Murphy PI Series Book 1) (28 page)

“Not completely. Did you check the oven?” I asked.

All four heads turned and looked at me, wearing identical confused expressions.

“Well, did you?” I asked.

Mr. Suit looked at his employees. Both shook their heads
no
.

“So, why, Miss Murphy, do you think what I’m looking for is in the oven?”

“I’m assuming Sara was Mrs. Kanisky’s nurse. Right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Mrs. Kanisky didn’t use her oven for at least six months before she died.”

“I’m missing the point.”

“You’ve obviously not met Lindsay.”

“I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,” Mr. Suit replied.

“Trust me, there’s no pleasure.”

“If you have a point, please make it.”

“Oh, right, well, anyway, if Lindsay wants food, she orders it. She probably has more restaurants on speed dial than all four of my brothers combined.”

“So you think Sara or Brian hid my things in Lindsay’s oven?”

“Yes. It makes perfect sense.”

“Boss, maybe we should check it out,” Mr. Ski Mask said. Once again his voice sounded familiar. I couldn’t figure out where I’d heard it before.

“It sounds pretty stupid to me,” said Mr. No Mask.

“That’s ’cause you’re stupid,” Mr. Ski Mask said.

“Don’t call me stupid.”

“Then don’t be stupid.”

“Quiet!” shouted Mr. Suit. “I believe Miss Murphy may be on to something.”

“Oh, this is bullshit,” said Mr. No Mask.

“It may be but we need to find out. Tie her up then go see if she’s right.”

“What do you want me to do about him?”

“I think we’re done.”

“No! Leave him alone. I swear it’s got to be there. I’ve checked everywhere else. I even found the memory card for a camera. It has pictures of you in the background.”

“See, I told you she could be reasonable,” said Kevin.

The demon duo released him and Mr. Suit’s gun was no longer pointed at Kevin. Actually it was pointed a bit toward me now. “Kevin?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Murphy, but we had to find out what you knew.”

“I don’t understand. You’re with them?”

“Afraid so.”

“Brian and Adam were your friends.”

“Yes, well, I discovered money was more important to me.”

“So you killed Brian over some pictures?”

“Not the pictures. I didn’t give a damn if Lizzie’s husband got ahold of those, but I do need my list back, and the drugs.”

“Brian took them.”

“Yes, he thought he could blackmail me to get Sara out of the business. Sadly, he refused to tell me where my property was.”

“What about Adam?”

“Adam couldn’t keep his mouth shut.”

I kept my mouth shut about Angie, though at this point it didn’t really matter. They had no intention of ever letting me out of here alive.

“Tie her up and watch her this time. I don’t feel like going out looking for her again,” Kevin said.

Mr. Ski Mask was in front of me in four long strides.

“Don’t even think about it.”

He chuckled and grabbed for me. In no mood to be manhandled again and desperate to get the hell out of here for good, I kicked him in the nuts, and not the kind you sprinkled on top of a sundae. Mr. Ski Mask growled and bent over at the waist. Mr. Suit and Kevin winced in what I assumed was sympathy.

Mr. No Mask laughed. “What a dumbass,” he said as he walked over and grabbed my arm, careful to keep his crotch out of range of my feet. I rewarded his cleverness by sinking my teeth into his hand. He let go and shoved me backward.

“Ouch! You dumb bitch, you’re gonna pay for that.”

Mr. Ski Mask stood up and pulled a gun from somewhere.

“You’re pointing that thing in the wrong direction, you idiot!” Kevin yelled.

I seemed to be the only one to notice Mr. Suit slip out the door. Good, my odds had just improved by one.

“All of you get down on your knees, hands locked behind your heads.”

“What the…” asked Mr. No Mask.

“Get on the floor. Now!”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Kevin asked.

“No way.” The words were barely out of his mouth when Mr. No Mask lunged for my supposed would-be savior.

Kevin and I stood on opposite sides of the two as they struggled. The gun went off and each of us jumped. By some strange miracle the bullet managed to miss us all. In the chaos the gun slid across the floor. Mr. Ski Mask was the first to recover. He dove for the gun, grabbed it, and then pointed it at Mr. No Mask’s head. Seeing how things were playing out, Kevin turned and headed for the door. I took off after him. Running in heels with a sore ankle wasn’t easy but I was highly motivated. Adrenaline, or maybe endorphins, had me moving faster than I thought possible for someone who hated every second on the treadmill.

Kevin stopped and turned around. With the thunderous noise my running caused I hadn’t held much hope of sneaking up on him. I hadn’t expected his sudden halt in motion but took advantage of it. I lunged at him. His eyes grew wide like a kid’s on Christmas morning. Kevin, though, wouldn’t be receiving any presents today. Killing a few innocent people had put him on the naughty list—permanently. I landed on him and we both tumbled to the floor. My elbow bounced off the cement. I yelped in pain. Kevin took advantage of my loss of concentration and shoved me off him. He tried to crawl away from me but didn’t get far. Not with me on his back, hanging on for dear life. Kevin flopped around, trying to shake me off. It felt like I was on one of those bucking bronco rides. I grabbed onto his shirt and held on. I had him. The problem was I had no way to keep him. As if sensing my dilemma, Kevin tensed up and flipped over, sending me flying backward with strips of his shirt in my hands.

Before I could stop sliding across the floor, Kevin was on top of me, pinning my arms to my sides. I closed my eyes. This was going to hurt but I was running low on options. I took as deep of a breath as I could with a full-grown man sitting on me and slammed my forehead into his.

“God, you crazy bitch.” Kevin leaned up, his hands on his forehead.

If he was in as much pain as I was, he had to be seeing spots or stars or whatever the hell those little bright thingies were in front of my eyes. At least I’d learned a lesson. If I ever did this again, I’d have to remember not to open my eyes so soon afterward. Of course this handy lesson would only be useful if I got the hell out of here in one piece.

Kevin shook his head and reached into his shirt pocket, pulling out a pocket knife. I could feel my eyes grow wide in shock and fear. I flailed my arms around, punching him in the chest and shoulders. Finally, my fist connected with his hand and the open switchblade. I knocked it out of his hand, slicing mine in the process.

“Damn it.”

Kevin wrapped his hands around my neck and began to squeeze. I grabbed his hands and tried unsuccessfully to tear his from my throat. The blood was making it difficult to hold on. Desperate to breathe, I brought my knee up. The first attempt was a miss but the second was a direct hit right between his legs. Kevin let go and rolled off me, howling in pain. I suffered through a coughing fit, grateful to breathe again. Kevin cupped his balls and moaned. A gunshot from the next room propelled us both into action. We lunged for each other. Kevin came up with a handful of my hair and pulled. I screamed out in pain. My hand brushed against something on the floor. I grabbed it and slammed it into Kevin’s face. Kevin let out an unhuman sound of pain and let go of my hair. I looked up and realized I had shoved the heel of my shoe into his right eye. I sat frozen, listening to his screams of agony. Kevin leaned over me. I closed my eyes.

Bang. Bang
. I opened my eyes and watched Kevin fall backward. I tried not to focus on the two holes in his head.

“Are you okay?”

Standing a short distance behind me was Mr. Ski Mask himself, without the mask. He looked familiar, with short black hair, dark eyes, and a Glock in his hand. At least we had similar tastes in guns.

“I think so. I’m better than him anyway.” I pointed toward Kevin.

“Good. Don’t move. I’ve got to call this in. Shit, you’re bleeding.” He tore off his shirt and handed it to me. I wrapped it around my hand to stop the bleeding.

“Have we…do I know you? You’re a cop.”

“We’ve never been introduced. I’ve seen you a few times at the station. Of course there’s also a picture of you in the chief’s office. I’m Glenn Clarkson.”

“I’d say it was nice to meet you but that might be a stretch.”

“I bet.”

“What about your friend?” I pointed to the room we’d come out of.

“The only place he’s going is the morgue. Like this one.” He pointed at Kevin but I averted my eyes. I wasn’t sure how much gore I could handle just then.

Mr. Ski Mask, or rather Officer Clarkson, made his call. I sat facing away from Kevin and concentrated on my breathing. Never a fan of blood, I slowly removed the shirt and was relieved to see the river of blood had slowed to a mere trickle.

“Sorry I kicked you in the nuts,” I told him after he got off the phone.

“Thanks. I was wishing I’d worn a cup. You do have great aim.”

“You should see me with a gun.”

He winced. “I think I’ll pass.”

I laughed. “I meant on a gun range.”

“Oh, thank God. How’s the bleeding?” He leaned over and looked, careful not to touch me.

“A lot better. Thanks.”

I was working up the courage to ask him what he’d been working on, but, before I could ask, we were bombarded with sirens blaring and lights flashing. Yeah, the cavalry had arrived. I turned toward the door in time to see my dad, Michael, Brandon, and a cousin charge inside the room. My dad was the first to get to me. He went to reach for me but stopped. This place was a crime scene and I was wearing evidence.

“Thank God you’re all right. Your mother was up all night worried about you. Your aunts were finally able to get her to rest.”

“I found Angie.”

“Who?” asked my dad.

“Where?” Brandon asked.

“She’s in the dumpster out back.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it,” Officer Clarkson said.

“Her. You mean take care of her.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“What the hell happened?” Michael demanded.

“Long story. I don’t think I’m up for telling it more than once.”

“No offense, Kim, but you smell.”

“Thanks, Brandon.”

I could always count on him and his dopey smile and his enormous heart. I saw a look pass between my dad and Michael; some kind of nonverbal communication was going on between the two and there was no doubt in my mind it was about me.

“Kim, why don’t we wait outside? The ambulance should be here soon.”

“I don’t need an ambulance.”

All four men looked pointedly at my bloodstained hand. “Whatever. I need some air.”

I wasn’t even the slightest bit ashamed that I was eager to get as far away from the dead bodies as possible. I followed after Michael and Brandon but not before hearing my father demand Officer Clarkson tell him what the hell had happened. My brothers kindly chose to take me away from the flashing lights. They did, however, argue over whose car I would wait in since both had driven their personal cars. Under other circumstances I would have been offended but my ability to smell had begun to return. Brandon lost. He got a trash bag out of the glove compartment and covered the seat. I sat pretending not to have seen the worried expressions on their faces. I began to shake. Brandon turned up the heat. I smiled my thanks, grateful they hadn’t bombarded me with questions they were surely dying to ask.

It wasn’t long before several other vehicles arrived, one of which was an ambulance.

“It’s about time. What the hell took them so long?”

“Relax, Michael, they’re here now.”

“You relax.”

“Guys, please.”

The passenger side door opened and I found myself face to face with my cousin Marco. “Go away.”

“It’s nice to see you too, sunshine.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s better. Now get out of the car and come over to the ambulance.”

“No.”

“Am I going to have to carry you?”

“Try it and you’ll never give your mother grandkids.”

He hissed. “Dear God, you better not let my mom hear that.”

“Yeah, Aunt Rosa would have your head,” said Michael.

“You’d be begging for my medical help. Now get out and let me take a look.”

“Kim, just do it,” Brandon said.

“If it shuts you guys up, fine.”

Marco had just finished torturing, or rather helping, me when my dad came over to where we sat inside the ambulance. He looked at me then turned toward Marco.

“Well?”