“Orals?”
The blonde leaned toward a mirror and wiped a lipstick smudge from her front tooth with her index finger. “I’m getting my doctorate in public health.”
Swishy-haired, beautiful, and smart. “So not fair,” Piper muttered.
“Sorry?” The woman cocked an inquisitive ear.
“It sounds challenging.”
“Easier done on a full night’s sleep, that’s for sure.” The woman made her way toward one of the three toilet cubicles.
As Piper headed back downstairs to be with the common folk, she reminded herself that a good detective didn’t make assumptions like the ones she’d been making about the swishy-hairs.
The theme from Buffy awakened her the next morning. Momentarily disoriented by her new surroundings, she fumbled for her phone, knocked it to the floor, and then hung upside down over the edge of the bed to get it. “’Lo.”
“Open the door, Esmerelda. We have to talk.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
She groaned and flopped back onto the luxurious mattress. The bed was heaven, and she didn’t ever want to leave it, especially now, when she wasn’t nearly sharp enough to go one-on-one with her employer. She gazed at the time through bleary eyes-nine thirty. But she hadn’t gotten to sleep until after three. Thank God the club wasn’t open every night. Four nights a week was more than enough.
She’d slept in a Chicago Bears T-shirt and underpants. She fumbled with her jeans and awkwardly zipped them as she crossed the living room on bare feet. She didn’t look at him as she opened the door. “I don’t even talk to myself until I’ve brushed my teeth.” Turning away, she headed for the apartment’s tiny bathroom, where she peed, brushed, and pulled herself together. When she came out, he was sitting on her couch, one ankle crossed over his knee, a Starbucks cup curled in his giant hand. She looked around hopefully for a second cup but didn’t see one.
“You’ve spent one night on the job,” he said, “and I’ve already had my first complaint about you.”
She didn’t have to think long to come up with the most likely source, but she played dumb. “No way.”
“You pissed off Emily Trenton.”
“Emily Trenton?”
“The actress on Third Degree.”
“That’s the worst show,” she retorted. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting sick of seeing women’s bodies with slit throats and bullet holes every time I turn on the TV. Whatever happened to letting audiences use their imagination? And don’t get me started on the autopsy shots. I swear if I see another-”
“Your job is to watch the staff, not antagonize the customers.”
She started to protest, then stopped herself. “You’re right. It won’t happen again.”
He seemed surprised that she wasn’t arguing with him, but she’d been out of line with the actress, and she saw no sense in defending herself.
He took a sip of coffee and studied her. “What did you say to her, anyway?”
“I told her she should dump the guy who was making her so miserable.”
“One of the dirtiest players in the league,” Graham said in disgust. “Late hits, facemasks, head butting. You name it, and the son of a bitch has done it. One of my MRIs has his name written all over it.”
“Yet you let him in the club.”
He shrugged. “If I excluded everybody who’s pissed me off, I could be out of business.”
“I don’t get why you’re doing this in the first place. It’s a semiseedy business-not that Spiral is sleazy, but the hours are crap, and you already have enough money to buy a small country. Or an island. That’s what I’d do. Buy an island.”
“They’re a dime a dozen.”
Lack of caffeine made her stupid. “I don’t like you.” She quickly amended her statement. “Let me clarify. Personally, I don’t like your sense of entitlement, but as your employee, I am completely loyal to you. I’d even throw myself between you and a bullet.”
“Good to know.”
Considering the fact that he’d given her a job and offered her an apartment, she was being rude, even for her. He also didn’t seem inclined to censure her for last night’s incident with the actress. “Sorry. I have an attitude problem when I haven’t had my morning coffee.”
“Only then?”
“Other times, too. I’m kind of a guy that way.”
“Really?” His gaze dropped to her breasts, and that brought her fully awake. She’d forgotten she wasn’t wearing a bra under her Bears T-shirt, and she automatically slouched. He smiled. Why not? He’d seen some of the most expensive breasts in the world, and hers were nothing more than ordinary. But still, he’d made her uncharacteristically self-conscious.
“The coffeemaker’s on the counter,” he said.
She started for the kitchen, then remembered she hadn’t bought coffee. “Never mind. I haven’t been to the grocery.”
“There’re beans and a grinder in the kitchen downstairs. I’ll unlock the door for you.”
“Let me get my shoes first.”
Her shoes weren’t all. She slipped on a bra. When she came out, he’d found Oinky, and he held it up. “Exactly what school has a pig for a mascot?”
“Community college. Farm country.”
“Ah.” He flicked the pig to her with a short underhand spiral that she doubted he expected her to catch. But she did.
She relished her small victory as he led her down the back stairs. Instead of turning toward the club’s kitchen at the bottom, he opened the door into the alley. “Hold on a minute, will you?” He stepped outside.
She peered out and saw that the wind from last night’s storm had strewn some sodden liquor cartons across the alley’s cracked pavement and in its muddy craters. Graham wasn’t happy. “This was supposed to have been cleaned up already.” He grabbed a soggy box and tossed it in the Dumpster, then snatched up another. She gave him points for being willing to do the dirty work himself and went out to help.
As she gingerly pulled a waterlogged carton from a filthy puddle, she saw Jada coming down the alley. The grocery bag in her arms suggested she had responsibilities a lot of kids her age didn’t. Jada waved and Piper waved back, then turned to pick up more sodden cardboard.
A teenage boy popped out from around the corner, Nerf gun in hand.
Piper stiffened, then spun around, calling out Jada’s name.
Jada reached for the Nerf protruding from her jacket pocket, but the bag she was carrying got in her way. Her teenage assassin braced his gun hand like a TV cop. The girl was going to die. But not on Piper’s watch.
She lunged forward and shoved the first thing she touched directly into the path of the bullet.
Cooper Graham.
6
Graham stumbled. Not from the bullet, which had bounced harmlessly off his arm, but from being thrown off balance without warning.
A second bullet whizzed past from the opposite direction as Jada took control. “You’re dead!” she cried.
“Not fair,” the kid protested.
“Totally fair!” Jada retorted.
Graham, in the meantime, had gone down in the middle of the alley, one hip landing in a pothole brimming with filthy water, a foot landing in another. “What the hell?” he exclaimed.
Defeated, Jada’s murder victim disappeared around the corner. Jada gasped as she finally noticed what had happened to Graham. Piper raced to him. Rivulets of mucky water splattered his skin and clothes. A dab of mud had even lodged in that formidable cleft in his chin. His jeans were filthy, his hands grubby. She went to her knees next to him. “Oh, God… Are you okay?”
Jada charged down the alley. “Coop! Please don’t tell Mom! Please!” She whipped toward Piper. “I would’ve been killed if it hadn’t been for you!”