Read Online Homicide in High Heels by Gemma Halliday - Free Book Online

"We had a lot of playtime. They
were tuckered out."
    "Huh," I said, wandering into the living
room, expecting to see the toy explosion that normally accompanied
playtime. Only I felt my feet freeze as I scanned the room. The
play yard was spotless, the toys all tucked neatly into the toy box
in the corner. The floors were crumb-free, and even the babies'
blankets had been folded into tidy little squares on the sofa.
    "You…cleaned?" I asked, choking out the last
word.
    I felt Ramirez come up behind me, his arms
wrapping around my waist. "Well, don't sound so surprised."
    I swallowed. "I'm not," I lied. "I'm
just…how did you manage the time to do this?"
    He turned me around and blinked at me as if
not understanding the question. "I told you the twins went to
sleep."
    I tried to shove down a tiny feeling of
suddenly being outshined in the parenting department. Most nights
that Ramirez worked late, I barely survived the twin's two-pronged
assault of play time, dinner time, and
trying-to-get-two-crying-babies-to-sleep time. I couldn't think of
a single night I'd had them down early and had energy left to fold
blankets, let alone Windex.
    "How was the party?" Ramirez asked, pulling
my thoughts away from Mr. Mom's surprising performance as he led me
to the sofa.
    "Good." I sank down in the cushions,
slipping my heels off one at a time.
    "You talked to Blanco?"
    I nodded. "I did. And the alibi is shaky." I
told him what I'd learned about their trip to the gym as well as my
findings about Lacey's wardrobe choices.
    Ramirez frowned when I'd finished. "So, she
wears nice stuff. What kind of money we talking here?"
    "You're cute. Nice stuff? You want to
know how much these nice shoes cost me?" I asked, gesturing
to my snakeskin pumps.
    "Something tells me I don't."
    I grinned. "Smart man. Let's just say in
those pictures at the memorial alone, Lacey was probably wearing at
least two grand per outfit."
    Ramirez's eyes went round, then shot down to
my shoes. "Those are why we're a two income household aren't
they?"
    I gave him a playful punch on the arm. "My point is that Lacey was spending a lot more than people
thought she was. It could be the reason she and Bucky were
fighting. Maybe she was trading on his credit or his celebrity
status, looking to milk him once the contract negotiations went
through next year. Maybe he found out and wasn't too happy."
    Ramirez raised an eyebrow at me. "Wow. Look
at you, all coming up with theories and stuff."
    I couldn't help a small lift of pride.
"Well, hey, it's not like I Windexed or anything."
    Ramirez frowned as if not understanding the
reference.
    "Anyway," I went on, "I know one person who
would know how Lacey was paying for her extravagant lifestyle."
    "Who?"
    "Faux Dad. He said she was in the salon all
the time. If she was paying on credit, he'd know about it. Who
knows, Lacey might have even confided some of her relationship woes
to him. He is her stylist after all."
    The corner of Ramirez's mouth lifted. "As
long as we're not asking him to break his stylist-client
privilege."
    I swatted him again. "Very funny. Hey, I
thought I did a darn good job tonight."
    "You did." He pulled me closer, his arms
going around my waist again. "Now how about we take the rest of
this conversation into the bedroom?"
    Now that was an offer I couldn't refuse.
     
    * * *
     
    The next morning I got up early, showered,
dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, hot pink ballet flats, and a
loose kimono style silk top. Then I grabbed a cup of coffee, kissed
my husband on the cheek, and wished him well with Operation Mr. Mom
as I headed out the door. Half an hour later I pushed through the
glass front doors of Fernando's. The crime scene tape was gone now,
the residue of fingerprint dust cleanly washed away. The only thing
that betrayed that any sort of tragedy had occurred here was the
fact that half of the styling stations were empty.
    As soon as I walked in I noticed two people
at the reception desk standing next to