“When we got dressed I asked when I would see him again,” Althea continued, a far away look in her eyes. “And do you know what he did?”
I was afraid to answer. I shook my head.
Althea leaned in closer so I could smell the Pert Plus on her frizzy hair. “He laughed. He said he didn’t need me anymore and he laughed at me. Do you know what it’s like to have the person you love laugh at you?”
I shook my head again, my fingers clenching around a long sharp object. My nail file!
“So, I got even. I found out what he and Mr. Howe were up to and tipped off a clerk at the Securities and Exchange. I drained Devon’s accounts. I strangled his perfect, thin, model of a wife. And,” she said, her eyes snapping back to mine as she wrapped both her hands around the trigger. “I killed him. But not right away. I made him beg first. Plead on his hands and knees for his life. And you know what I did then?”
I shook my head, wrapping my fingers around the nail file.
She leaned in, her voice low. “I laughed.”
I think I was going to be sick. She had become seriously unglued. I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner. Anyone who paired checked cardigans with corduroy skirts had to be touched. And this chick was way beyond touched. Her mouth was smiling while her eyes held a dull, open stare as if she was actually seeing Greenway beg in front of her.
Then a realization hit me as I stared into her vacant eyes. “I led you right to him.”
Althea smiled. “Thanks for that. I knew he was still in town but it wasn’t until you came waltzing in here that I knew he was at the Moonlight. The conceited ass actually thought I wanted to sleep with him again. He actually thought he was going to get laid. I played along. I dressed up in painful heels and a tight little skirt.” Her eyes took on that hollow look again. “And then I shot him. Twice.”
I looked down at the.22. “With Richard’s gun?”
She nodded. “I found it in his desk while he was in court last week. It seemed the easiest way to kill two birds with one stone. I wasn’t about to share my hard earned cash with a philandering jerk like Mr. Howe. And don’t pretend otherwise, ‘cause I know he was married.”
I shrugged. Okay, so maybe I’d give her that point. “So, what now?” I hesitated to ask.
All traces of smile left her face. “Now, I get rid of the last loose end, drive to LAX and disappear with twenty million in retirement. I think it almost compensates for having slept with Greenway.”
I swallowed hard as she leveled the gun at me. I heard blood pounding in my ears, not at all enjoying being called a loose end. My fingers tightened around the nail file in my purse. I took a deep breath as Althea leveled the gun at me.
“Goodbye,” she whispered.
If I waited another second, I knew I’d be sleeping in the dumpsters. I ducked my head down and lunged at her, nail file first, cringing as I felt it jab into her flesh.
I heard her scream as the gun went off, a shot hitting Jasmine’s computer monitor with a shattering crash. I felt warm liquid ooze over my hand and I think I screamed too.
Only when I looked down, it wasn’t red but clear. I looked up at Althea. One side of her chest was all wet. And smaller than the other.
“You bitch! You busted my implant!” she yelled.
Mental forehead smack. Even Althea had implants? Were mine the smallest boobs in L.A.?
Althea stood there, the gun dangling from her hand as she deflated on one side. I decided running was a good plan now. I turned and bolted across the small reception room. I almost made it to the doors, when I heard the crack of the gun and frosted glass shattered in front of me. I dove for the carpet and I heard another crack as fire seared through my arm. I clasped my hand to the pain and this time my fingers did come up red.
Yep, I was definitely going to be sick.
I lost one of Dana’s stilettos as I crawled on my knees behind a potted palm. I heard three more shots embed themselves in the tastefully papered walls of Dewy, Cheatum and Howe. Then I heard a sound which was music to my ears. The clicking of an empty chamber.
“Shit!” Althea screamed. She was out of bullets.
I jumped up and made a run for the elevator. Only I didn’t get far. My feet crunched on the shattered glass of the front doors as I felt myself being jerked backwards by my hair.
I spun around, trying to remember anything from that Tae Bo class Dana dragged me to last year. Lunge, spin, punch? Or was it spin, punch, lunge? Crap. If only I’d been paying more attention to the moves and less to the teacher’s sculpted buns. Instead, I flailed with kicks, screams, and slaps. I was fighting so girly, but I didn’t care.
Althea easily wrestled me to the ground. Man, she was strong for a woman. Under all those dowdy clothes she’d been hiding a body builder’s physique.
I sunk my nails into her skin, digging until I heard her scream. But she didn’t stop. Her hands circled around my throat and I began to see stars. I grasped around on the floor wildly for anything to smack her with. The room started to go fuzzy, all I could see were Althea’s eyes, crazed and intent on me. Her glasses must have been knocked off somewhere along the way. Her bushy eyebrows drew together, her lips curled back in a creepy smile that belonged in a Wes Craven movie. I felt like crying that my last vision would be of unplucked eyebrows and frizzy hair. It just wasn’t fair.
And then my hands came up against something. The fallen stiletto. I reached my fingers out as far as they would stretch, wrapping my hand around the shoe. The room was fading from my vision, my lungs gasping for air as I wiggled beneath Althea’s bulk. I channeled all the strength I had left into my arm as I swung Dana’s hooker footware in the direction of Althea’s neck.
I heard a scream. In all honesty, I think it might have been mine. As the hands left my throat I blinked, sucking in welcomed breaths of air. I looked down. Althea had fallen off of me. The side of her neck was covered in gooey red, Karo syrup. The stiletto heel was sticking out at an odd angle and Althea’s eyes looked kind of glazed over, her mouth making gurgling sounds.
This time I’m sure the scream came from me.
I was still screaming when Ramirez burst through the shattered front doors, a handful of uniformed officers right behind him. One of them started doing some mouth to mouth on Althea and yelling for a paramedic. They came, attaching tubes and masks to her prone form, while one cop after another arrived, talking loudly into their radios. It was all so surreal and I couldn’t tear my gaze from the pool of red forming around Althea’s body.
At some point I stopped screaming and realized Ramirez was holding me. Close. Tight. His arms wrapped around me. He whispered into my hair.
“Are you okay?”
I gulped. Was I?
“I, I think she shot me. Is she…” I trailed off, willing myself to take a deep breath before I screamed again.
“No. She’s alive. For now.” Ramirez pulled away, inspecting my left arm where the fire had dulled into an aching pain like a bikini wax that wouldn’t stop. “It looks like a flesh wound,” he said, carefully pulling my torn shirt away. He flagged a paramedic down from the group huddled around Althea, who confirmed Ramirez’s diagnosis. He said I needed stitches and Ramirez packed me into his SUV and took me to the emergency room.
Three hours later my arm looked like it belonged to Frankenstein and my neck was the same color as the Purple People Eater. I knew that I’d be wearing turtlenecks for the next few days, but at least it matched my eye. Ramirez drove me to the police station where I gave a statement in triplicate amidst barely concealed laughter as I relayed how I’d popped Althea’s saline implant. By the time we were finished, the adrenalin high of the attack had worn off and left me crashing into a new low. The only thing holding me up was Ramirez, who hadn’t left my side the whole night.
The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon when Ramirez finally drove me back to my studio. As he parked in the drive and shut off the engine, I voiced a thought that had been nagging at the back of my mind ever since I saw Althea wielding Richard’s gun.