Part 8 (2/2)
”I'm ready, I swear,” I snapped as much as one can snap in a whisper voice. ”I'm sure this sore throat is a twenty-four-hour thing,” I whispered even lower, still bristling over his comment about me not being the salon type. ”I'm not a country b.u.mpkin, you know. Besides, I have the perfect cover. I have a date with Sean O'Malley tomorrow, so I'll-”
”Excuse me, come again?” he sputtered.
”You heard me.”
”I don't think that's such a good idea. Sean's a good guy, but he's a smooth operator. He'll talk circles around you and before you know it, you'll be the star of your own unrated movie.”
”Who says I don't want to be?” I paused, but the detective was speechless for once. ”Listen, I can take care of myself there, Spanky. It's just a date.”
”Whatever.” He coughed. ”I really don't care what you do with your personal life. I was thinking of your reputation.”
”Good G.o.d, you sound like my parents.” I shuddered. ”Here's the plan. I'll have Jo take me to the salon at the same time Nurse Doolittle will be there. We'll have a girls' day, and I'll get a makeover in preparation for my date. Women do that all the time, and I'll bet my tea leaves that Nurse Doolittle will be talking by the end of our session. Let's pray I won't have to endure a full makeover before she spills the beans.”
The couple on the bed stood up and stumbled about in their pa.s.sion, cras.h.i.+ng into the closet door. I flattened myself against the back wall behind a row of dresses, preparing myself for discovery. What on earth would I say if they found me playing Peeping Tom? The door didn't break, thank goodness, but it was loud. Then they fumbled their way into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
”What the h.e.l.l was that?” Mitch asked.
I let out the breath I'd been holding. ”Um, an action film, but no worries. I've had enough TV. Think I'll get some rest.”
”Good idea. Report in tomorrow.”
”I will.” I hung up and quickly slipped out of the closet. I made my way over to the window, opened it as far as I could, and then squeezed outside on the branch, barely closing the window behind me.
Ice had formed on the branches now, and I carefully slid my way toward the center of the tree. I had almost made it when I slipped off the branch. I let out a little screech, my arms flailing about. Oh my G.o.d, I was going to die! I covered my face as I tumbled to the ground headfirst. Something jerked me to a stop, and I hung suspended upside down, my heart pounding wildly. The edge of my canary yellow hoodie had snagged on another branch, but who knew how long that would hold.
I whipped out my phone and dialed as fast as I could.
”I thought you were resting,” the detective asked as soon as he answered.
”I need your help now!” I said in a perfectly clear, non-sore voice.
”That has to be the fastest recovery in the world. What was it, a twenty-four-second bug?” he asked suspiciously.
”Just get over here now, and don't ring the doorbell or let anyone see you. Go out back by the tree and look up.”
”Huh? You really are crazier than a cuckoo bird, aren't you, woman?”
”And you really are a b.u.t.thead. Just . . . hurry.” I gave him the address and disconnected as I started to slip.
Mere minutes later an all-too-familiar smooth, deep voice from below said, ”You've taken bird-watching to a whole new level, Tweety.”
”I thought it was Tink.”
”Not today, apparently, because you sure can't fly. What the h.e.l.l were you doing?” He stood there with his hands on his hips, scowling up at me.
”I wasn't bird-watching. I was tailing a perp.” A ripping noise sounded, and I dropped a few inches, letting out a yelp.
”He's not a perp. He's a suspect. I thought I told you to stay out of trouble. And what on earth are you wearing ? Don't you know anything?”
”Who cares about that, just get me down. Can't you see I'm going to fall? The point is Damon has an alibi. They're playing school as we speak.”
”The unrated movie, I take it?”
”And the action flick . . . so not pretty. If I wasn't sick before, I am now.” Another ripping noise sounded, and I squeaked like a mouse.
Mitch sighed. ”What in the world am I going to do with you, Tink?”
”For starters, get me down from here. My head is pounding from the blood rush, and I don't know how much longer my sweats.h.i.+rt is going to hold.”
He stood directly below me and held out his arms. ”Don't worry. I've got you.”
”And you call me crazy?” I sputtered.
”It's too icy for me to climb up. I'm twice your size, Tink. I'll just catch you when you fall. I won't drop you.” I glanced down at him and met his eyes as he added, ”Trust me.”
Something inside me believed him, and I did exactly that. Squeezed my eyes closed tight and waited for the inevitable. Seconds later, my sweats.h.i.+rt gave way and I tumbled to the earth below.
He kept his word and didn't drop me, but unfortunately, I flattened him good. He lay sprawled on his back with me flat on top of him, belly to belly. We both fought to catch our breath, but I fared much better than he did.
I could feel his heart beat beneath mine, and the heat of his body warmed me through my tattered hoodie. ”Thanks,” I finally got out, feeling safe, not wanting to leave the warmth of his arms. I lifted my head and looked into his eyes.
He stared at me for what seemed like forever, looking like he wanted to kiss me and throttle me at the same time. I knew exactly how he felt. ”You're welcome, I think. Though this hurt a lot more than it would have ten years ago. I'm going to pay for this tomorrow, I'm sure.”
”We should probably go, huh?” I asked.
”Probably,” he responded.
”Why aren't you moving?”
”I'm not sure I can.”
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