Read Online Death on Heels by Ellen Byerrum - Free Book Online

to Stella. Maybe Lacey should suggest a pair of cowboy boots for Stella’s wedding. Did cowboy boots come in white tooled leather? No doubt Ryder would make them, for a price. And decorated with sterling silver roses, or at least rhinestones. And hearts and flowers.
    Cherise paraded in front of the mirror, clearly in love with her boot choice.
    “I want them. Everyone’s wearing them. Besides, Lacey, you have cowboy boots.”
    “With a broken heel. And they only cost a couple of hundred. It seemed like a lot, at the time.”
    “I’ll take them,” Cherise said, handing the box and her shoes to the associate. “Can I just wear them? I wanna dance all night in these! By the way, Lacey, don’t tell Mom how much these cost. Promise!”

Chapter 6
    “Really, when you think about it, they’re a real bargain,” Cherise said.
    In her new baby blue and bone boots, Cherise pranced along with a new spring in her step. She smiled at random men on the street, ready to kick up her heels and flirt. She experienced none of the instant buyer’s regret that would have had Lacey by the throat. Lacey envied her that.
    Cherise was in the mood for a raucous dance club, but Lacey needed something quieter. She chose the Cruise Room. Because she was the big sister, she won. She always thought the Cruise Room at the Oxford Hotel was one of the most romantic places in Denver. Maybe a little less romantic if you were with your sister. Lacey realized she was missing Vic terribly. If only he were there with her! Not that she resented hanging with Cherise. Not exactly.
    Dark and lit with a rosy glow, the Cruise Room famously had opened the day after Prohibition ended in 1933, and it was essentially unchanged. It was modeled after a bar in the Queen Mary. A dozen Art Deco bas-relief panels lined the walls above the cozy booths and featured Thirties-era toasts from around the world. Lacey and Cherise grabbed the booth beneath the Russian toast N A Z DOROVIE .
    “You call this a bar? It doesn’t even have a television,” Cherise complained.
    Lacey raised an imperious eyebrow. “Art Deco hatestelevision, and so do I. The Cruise is perfect just the way it is. I need a dirty martini. Do you want to talk, or just leave me here and go find yourself a sports bar somewhere?”
    “When you put it that way.” Cherise pouted a little and settled into the booth. She gazed down at her new boots. “I don’t usually get down to this part of town.” She looked around. “Lacey, cute guy alert,” Cherise whispered. “At the bar.”
    Lacey glanced up.
Skiers
heeding the late winter call to the slopes
. They had the telltale ski-goggles tan. As if on cue, two men with healthy white grins and neatly cropped hair spun around on their barstools to admire Cherise’s new cowboy boots. The boots were working like a charm. Cherise and the guys discussed the merits of skiing Telluride versus Crested Butte, and they all swore allegiance to the superiority of Colorado powder. Lacey had forced herself down the slopes a few times, only to discover she was
not
a skier. She smiled and nodded and thought of Vic and Cole Tucker. Cherise collected the skiers’ business cards as they left.
    “You’re right, Lacey. I’m not missing television now,” Cherise said.
    “But what about Tommy? You missing him?”
    Cherise had been dating the high school quarterback she had once knocked out with her killer kick. She shrugged.
    “Not so much. We’re just, you know, casual. Nothing serious.”
    “Maybe he’s afraid of you. The kick is mightier than the sword.”
    “Very funny. That was ages ago. What about you? You say you’re here to find out about Cole Tucker, but what about Vic?”
    Lacey felt herself smiling at his very name. “I’m pleading the Fifth Amendment.”
    Her sister had an irritatingly knowing air. “I thought so. Will he be in Sagebrush?”
    “He’ll be there.”
    “Is his ex still after him? That cotton-candy blonde?”
    Lacey tossed a straw at