Read Online Mistletoe and Murder in Las Vegas by Colleen Collins - Free Book Online
Authors: Colleen Collins
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package. She peeled and popped off the top part of the bubble-wrap, revealing a bronze female head, her eyes blindfolded. Lady Justice .
Stung by bittersweet memories, she set the Lady on a box and looked over her new office, filled with boxes and furniture, and out the far window at the palm trees and traffic along Graces Avenue.
The last day of November, but it looked like spring with sunny skies and temperatures in the low seventies. Which was one reason Gloria called in sick to work today, the other being her “undying devotion to my bestie.” She wore navy shorts and a pink tank top as she planned to take a jog later.
Joanne, whose plans included never leaving this room, wore dirty sneakers, faded jeans, and a baggy nightshirt that read You Snooze, You Lose . Her other tops were all dress blouses as her casual clothes were still at Roger’s.
She looked back at the bronze figure, feeling more wistful than sad as she remembered the night he gave her Lady Justice, the personification of the ancient goddess of justice. Two years ago the public defenders threw a party for Joanne to celebrate her winning a first-degree murder case that nobody thought was winnable. Roger gave a slightly drunken speech about “his brilliant Amanda” and a future “Montgomery and Montgomery,” and handed her the Lady Justice, which turned into a kiss while everyone clapped and whistled. A testimony to their love, partnership and future as Montgomery and Montgomery.
After that Lady Justice had a permanent spot on her desk.
Who now lay half-wrapped in cheap, half-popped plastic on a battered cardboard box with Fragile stenciled on two sides and Bathroom scrawled in black marker on its top.
Not on my ranch, sister .
Joanne gingerly picked her up and respectfully peeled off the bubble-wrap, until the foot-high, solid bronze goddess of justice emerged, the scales of justice in one hand, a sword in the other.
Gloria stopped wiping down the bookshelf and turned around, a rag in her hand. “I’ll polish the desk next.” She ran her hand over the deep-red sheen of the cherry wood. “Cool of Kimmie to loan you this beauty and its matching swivel chair.”
“There wasn’t room for them in her new home or the agency, so I lucked out.” Joanne held up the Lady, imagining it sitting on the desk. The bronze glinted dark pink and gold in sunlight from the far window.
“Ah, Jo.” Gloria shook her head sadly. “You don’t need memories of Jamoke in your new office.”
A spark of anger flared past her brain and shot straight out of her mouth. “Is that all she is? Memories of Jamoke?”
Gloria raised her eyebrows in surprise and pursed her red-slicked lips in a pronounced “no.” Then held the dramatic look to ensure Joanne got the are-you-really-gonna-dump-that-displaced-Jamoke-shit on me?
“Sorry. You didn’t deserve that. That was my inner stupid talking.”
Her friend held up her palms in a don’t-worry-about-it gesture. “It’s okay. You’re going through a lot right now.”
She looked at Lady Justice. “You’re right, she brings back some memories of Jamoke...but other times she reminds me of one of the best wins I’ve ever had as a lawyer. When I think of that, I start to believe in my ability again.”
“ Ability ?” Gloria fisted her hands on her hips. “More like your freaking awesome talent and brilliance . For all intensive purposes, girlfriend, let’s not forget you also did a chunk of Jamoke’s work, which is why he’s Mister High and Mighty now.”
Joanne blamed her inner stupid for that, too. Soon after Joanne and Roger started living together, he began complaining about feeling overwhelmed and desperately needed help, so she offered to write some of his briefs and motions for him in the evenings, which over the years turned into many briefs and motions. But she viewed her work as an investment in their future—the more Roger shined at the PD’s office, the brighter their prospects when they
Stung by bittersweet memories, she set the Lady on a box and looked over her new office, filled with boxes and furniture, and out the far window at the palm trees and traffic along Graces Avenue.
The last day of November, but it looked like spring with sunny skies and temperatures in the low seventies. Which was one reason Gloria called in sick to work today, the other being her “undying devotion to my bestie.” She wore navy shorts and a pink tank top as she planned to take a jog later.
Joanne, whose plans included never leaving this room, wore dirty sneakers, faded jeans, and a baggy nightshirt that read You Snooze, You Lose . Her other tops were all dress blouses as her casual clothes were still at Roger’s.
She looked back at the bronze figure, feeling more wistful than sad as she remembered the night he gave her Lady Justice, the personification of the ancient goddess of justice. Two years ago the public defenders threw a party for Joanne to celebrate her winning a first-degree murder case that nobody thought was winnable. Roger gave a slightly drunken speech about “his brilliant Amanda” and a future “Montgomery and Montgomery,” and handed her the Lady Justice, which turned into a kiss while everyone clapped and whistled. A testimony to their love, partnership and future as Montgomery and Montgomery.
After that Lady Justice had a permanent spot on her desk.
Who now lay half-wrapped in cheap, half-popped plastic on a battered cardboard box with Fragile stenciled on two sides and Bathroom scrawled in black marker on its top.
Not on my ranch, sister .
Joanne gingerly picked her up and respectfully peeled off the bubble-wrap, until the foot-high, solid bronze goddess of justice emerged, the scales of justice in one hand, a sword in the other.
Gloria stopped wiping down the bookshelf and turned around, a rag in her hand. “I’ll polish the desk next.” She ran her hand over the deep-red sheen of the cherry wood. “Cool of Kimmie to loan you this beauty and its matching swivel chair.”
“There wasn’t room for them in her new home or the agency, so I lucked out.” Joanne held up the Lady, imagining it sitting on the desk. The bronze glinted dark pink and gold in sunlight from the far window.
“Ah, Jo.” Gloria shook her head sadly. “You don’t need memories of Jamoke in your new office.”
A spark of anger flared past her brain and shot straight out of her mouth. “Is that all she is? Memories of Jamoke?”
Gloria raised her eyebrows in surprise and pursed her red-slicked lips in a pronounced “no.” Then held the dramatic look to ensure Joanne got the are-you-really-gonna-dump-that-displaced-Jamoke-shit on me?
“Sorry. You didn’t deserve that. That was my inner stupid talking.”
Her friend held up her palms in a don’t-worry-about-it gesture. “It’s okay. You’re going through a lot right now.”
She looked at Lady Justice. “You’re right, she brings back some memories of Jamoke...but other times she reminds me of one of the best wins I’ve ever had as a lawyer. When I think of that, I start to believe in my ability again.”
“ Ability ?” Gloria fisted her hands on her hips. “More like your freaking awesome talent and brilliance . For all intensive purposes, girlfriend, let’s not forget you also did a chunk of Jamoke’s work, which is why he’s Mister High and Mighty now.”
Joanne blamed her inner stupid for that, too. Soon after Joanne and Roger started living together, he began complaining about feeling overwhelmed and desperately needed help, so she offered to write some of his briefs and motions for him in the evenings, which over the years turned into many briefs and motions. But she viewed her work as an investment in their future—the more Roger shined at the PD’s office, the brighter their prospects when they
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