Death By High Heels (The Kim Murphy PI Series Book 1) (10 page)

I could call Uncle Charles; as a lawyer he could help, but then he’d want to know what was going on and I’d have to lie. There was also Charmaine’s sister—an ADA in the Dayton District Attorney’s Office. I could call her, but the last thing I wanted was to drag a friend into my mess. It was bad enough I’d gotten my brother involved. Although Brandon had actually involved himself, so that wasn’t technically my fault.

That annoying little voice in my head reminded me I had another option, a very sexy and single option. That voice needed to shut up. No way was I calling Zachary Wellington. Though I wasn’t dating anyone now, keeping my distance seemed like the prudent thing to do.

Having made a mature decision, I feared it wouldn’t be long before I was hiring an accountant and talking about things like annuities, stocks, and bonds. Oh, the horror. A shiver went up and down my spine.

Confused, I laid my head on my desk and closed my eyes.

Chapter Seven

I lifted my head and an envelope was stuck to the right side of my face. I tossed the electric bill onto the desk and stretched, catching a glimpse at the clock. Just great. While I’d been sleeping, the rest of the world continued on without me for two whole hours. Now I only had ten minutes before I needed to leave to follow my client’s husband. After a quick trip to the bathroom, I grabbed my purse and locked up the office.

On the drive over, I tried not to think about the scary reflection in the mirror. It didn’t really matter. I’d be spending the evening in my car. In the dark. Alone. I was parked in the lot with a clear view of the back door and the possible cheater’s car. Ten minutes later, the unsuspecting hubby stepped outside the building and headed straight for his car. I’d been following him for two weeks and was mildly surprised when instead of taking a left toward the pub he hung out at with his buddies, he took a right. Surprise turned to shock and disbelief when he parked in the United Friendship Baptist Church parking lot.

That sure was an odd place to meet the woman you’re having an affair with, but what the heck did I know. He got out of his car and walked toward the back of the church. When he got to the end of the walkway, I got out of my car and casually walked the same path. Around the corner there was a set of stairs leading to a basement entrance.

Swell, I could go back to my car and wait, or go down the stairs and see what the heck he was doing. The decision was made for me when an older man in what must be his eighties, from the wrinkles, stooped shoulders, and walking cane, put his hand on my arm.

“Don’t be shy, young lady, we don’t bite.”

“I don’t think—”

“You made it this far. It’s just a few more steps. Get it? A few more steps.” He pointed to the stairs, chuckling at his own joke.

“I guess…”

“It gets easier each time. You’ll see.” The stairs were wide enough that we took them side by side. “My name’s Gus, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m Kim.” We had made it down the stairs and Gus grabbed the handle, holding the door open for me.

Whatever I was expecting, this wasn’t it. Against the back wall was a table with an assortment of casseroles, chips, pretzels, and drinks. A large punch bowl filled with an orange liquid was on a separate table.

In the center of the room chairs were set up in a large circle. A dozen men and women, ranging from teenager to Gus’s age, stood mingling. The man I had followed here was sitting in a chair, balancing a plate on his lap. A woman in her fifties sat on one side and a young boy who didn’t look old enough to have a driver’s license sat on the other.

Oh jeez, if this was a meeting for converting to the Baptist church, I was going to have to get out fast before ten generations of my family all rolled over in their graves. A few of them might deem my being here a betrayal so severe a haunting visit would be necessary. I shivered. Turning to leave, I spotted a gentleman closing the door behind him while everyone else rushed to their seats. Just great.

“Good evening, everyone.”

“Good evening,” everyone, including me, replied.

There were a couple of empty seats so I grabbed the closest one, not wanting to draw too much attention my way.

“It looks like we have a full house. That’s great,” the black gentleman said as he took one of the remaining empty chairs.

I glanced around the room, careful to avoid making eye contact with anyone, especially my target.

“So, who would like to start?”

After a moment of silence, the teenage boy stood up. “I guess I’ll go first, Pastor.”

“Go right ahead. Take your time.”

The young man’s face turned red but it didn’t stop him from speaking up. “As most of you all know, I’ve been comin’ to these meetings for the past three months. Ever since my family moved here from Tennessee.”

Every head in the room, except mine, nodded in response.

“Well, last week, I finally told my family I’m gay.”

“How did they react?” the pastor asked.

“My mom said she already knew. My dad was surprised but he was a lot more supportive than I thought he’d be.”

“That’s terrific, Ethan.”

Everyone, including me, clapped. He smiled and sat down. When the room was silent the pastor asked who would like to go next. It suddenly dawned on me why my client’s hubby was here. While I was pleasantly surprised with the pastor’s support of a lifestyle that many religions, sadly my own included, frowned upon, this was going to be extremely difficult for my client. Hopefully, there was another support group here for family members.

“I tried to tell my wife over the weekend but I just couldn’t do it. I knew she’d leave me if I told her,” said my client’s husband.

“We’ve talked about this before. When you are ready to be honest with yourself, you’ll be able to tell your wife the truth. You cannot control her response. You can only control your own actions. You must be ready to listen to her. Anger, denial, sadness, these are all feelings she’ll likely be dealing with,” the pastor said.

“I know. It’s just, I love her so much. I can’t imagine my life without her.”

Huh?

“We understand.” The pastor waved his arm around. “We also know you can’t continue to hide this part of yourself from her. It’s possible she’ll be able to accept your cross-dressing and continue to be the loving, supportive wife she always has been.”

Cross-dressing? Heck, that wasn’t so bad. I could think of a hundred things a wife didn’t want to hear and this didn’t even crack the top ten. I was pretty sure this was something my client could live with.

I glanced at the door, judging the distance. It was too far for me to leave without drawing unwanted attention. Just great, I was going to be stuck here until the meeting was over. While I was an extremely nosy person, I didn’t think I should be in the room with these people while they poured out their darkest secrets. It made me feel guilty, like I was going to Hell for my intrusion. I spent the rest of the time praying no one would call on me, kind of like how I’d spent my time in high school. Hopefully, they would all be able to work out their problems and keep their loved ones in their lives. I hadn’t heard anything at the meeting that couldn’t be worked through but I was rather grateful when the pastor thanked everyone for coming.

I stood up and rushed out the door, ignoring several people’s attempts to get my attention. The drive home must have been on auto pilot because I parked in the lot with no memory of the trip. Inside, I collapsed on the couch. My client had convinced herself her husband was cheating on her. After sitting there listening to all their stories, I felt for them. They were each going through a difficult time. Hopefully, they’d all be able to work out their problems.

My stomach growled, reminding me I had skipped dinner. Missing meals wasn’t a common occurrence for me. Not in the mood to cook or go out, I kicked off my shoes and grabbed the phone. For delivery there were two choices, pizza or Chinese.

I picked up the phone and ordered enough Chinese food to feed all four of my brothers. Twenty minutes later the doorbell rang. Finally, the food was here. I grabbed some cash out of my purse and rushed to open the door.

“If you’re trying to bribe me, you’re gonna need a lot more than that,” Grant said, staring at the money in my hand, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Funny. I thought you were my dinner, but I’ll be sure to let my dad know you have a price,” I said, returning his smile while trying to ignore the sudden jump in my pulse.

“Ha, ha, ha.”

“Well, what are you doing here?”

“I thought for sure you’d want to know what we found out about your attack, but if you’re not interested…”

“Oh my God, of course I want to know.”

Grant stepped inside, his arm brushing against mine. I looked up and found myself staring into gray eyes. I opened my mouth but no sound came out. Uncertainty, lust, I wasn’t sure which, flashed in Grant’s eyes and then was gone.

I sat down on the couch while Grant sat down in an accent chair across from me.

“Unfortunately, we didn’t learn anything helpful from the crime scene or your clothes.”

“Well, that was a waste.” I sighed. “Wait a minute. You could have told me that over the phone.”

Grant squirmed in his seat, avoiding my eyes.

“I just wanted you to know whoever attacked you is still out there.”

“You mean you’d actually care if something happened to me?”

“Of course.”

I’d have to think about why that felt so good later on. For now, there was something else on Grant’s mind. I couldn’t believe he’d admitted to caring about me. Ever since we met six months ago, over another dead body, there had been an attraction I hadn’t believed was one-sided.

“So let’s get this over with,” I said.

“Get this over with?”

“You did come here to yell at me, didn’t you?”

“I’ve come to the realization yelling and threatening doesn’t work with you. So I’m trying a new approach.”

“What kind of new approach?”

“I’m going to ask you nicely to stay away from this case. It’s dangerous for you to be snooping around.”

“I’m not snooping. Lindsay hired me to find the real killer.”

“Lord, Kim, did you ever think maybe she did it?”

“Yeah, for about a minute. You and I both know she didn’t do it.”

“Oh, we do, do we? Why don’t you fill me in?” Grant asked.

Before I could answer, the doorbell rang. I jumped up off of the couch and made my way to the door. I flung it open and smiled at the teenage boy standing in front of me, holding a large brown bag with my dinner inside.

“Hey, Miss Murphy,” Jason said. “What’s up?”

“Not much.”

“I was wondering when you’d call again. It’s been a few weeks.” He flashed a smile that quickly turned into a frown as I felt Grant step up behind me and place his arm around my shoulders.

“How much?” Grant asked.

Jason glanced down at the receipt. “Twenty-four sixty,” Jason said.

“Here you go. Keep the change,” Grant said, handing over two twenties and taking the bag from Jason.

“Uh, thanks,” Jason said just before Grant closed the door in his face.

“This smells great. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast. This is the first break I’ve had all day.”

“What the hell was that all about?”

“What? Oh, that.” He laughed.

“I’m waiting.”

“He’s a teenager and he obviously has a crush on you.”

“It was harmless and he’s a nice kid.”

“Kid being the operative word. I’m just saving him some trouble. Believe me, I did the kid a favor. He needs to focus on girls his own age, not a woman old enough to—”

“Watch it,” I snapped.

He laughed. “I was going to say old enough to know better.”

“Oh. Jason’s a good kid and he always remembers the chopsticks.”

“I’d do a lot more than that if you were aiming those big green eyes at me.”

My pulse raced, despite my irritation at his Neanderthal behavior. The man raised the pulse of women by just stepping into a room. Expensive suits, polished shoes, every strand of hair in place, just begging a woman to run her hands through it.

“Kim.”

“Ah, what?” I asked, embarrassed at having been caught staring.

He laughed. “Why don’t you get some plates and drinks while I set this stuff out on the table?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” I spun around and rushed into the kitchen. My face burned and my heart continued its dangerous rate. I took several slow, steadying breaths and felt my heart slowing down back to a steady beat.

Back in the dining room, Grant and I filled our plates. He looked at the two bottles of beer and raised his right eyebrow.

“There’s Diet Pepsi in the fridge.”

Grant stood up and strode toward the kitchen, muttering something that sounded an awful lot like
stupid diet pop
. The giggle escaped despite my best effort. He returned with a glass of water.

I was impressed when Grant shoved food into his mouth with precision that most of the guys I knew couldn’t do with chopsticks. Each time I raised the bottle of beer to my mouth I watched his eyes follow the motion.

“Oh hell, just drink the beer.”

“I’m working.”

“Technically, you’re eating.”

“Kim…”

“Fine, I’ll drink it. Mine’s empty and I’m not about to let one go to waste,” I said, grabbing the bottle. Grant’s hands closed over mine. Once again I found myself staring at gray eyes that resembled storm clouds.

“God, you’re stubborn.”

Not exactly the words I’d been expecting. I guessed I was the only one fighting the urge to rush upstairs, tear off our clothes, and have mind-blowing sex. Jeez, it had been six long freaking months. I was beginning to fear the parts wouldn’t work with a partner anymore.