No One Lives Twice (A Lexi Carmichael Mystery) by Julie Moffett Page A

triangle of material covering exactly diddly went in the front. I’d never seen such impractical, illogical underwear in my entire life. However, I reminded myself that my life needed a change, and change was good.
    Thanks to Norma, I bought four thongs in different colors and two push-up Wonderbras in size 36A, red and black. I left the department with big hopes and headed for the clothes area.
    I felt more on solid ground here and bought a pair of jeans, two white T-shirts, a black skirt and two white blouses. Apparently I’d used up my exciting quotient with the underwear. But then, on my way out of the department, I spotted a mannequin wearing a red silk dress. It was daring, bold and so not me, but I needed something to wear to meet Finn this evening so I forced myself to try it on. It fit in all the right places and made my lanky form look almost feminine. I’d never owned anything red in my life before today and I didn’t have red shoes, so I paid for the dress and then wandered over to the shoe department where I found a pair of not-too-high red pumps. Done, thank God.
    Relieved I didn’t have to do laundry but more worried than ever about my credit card balance, I drove home. The alarm was blinking red and buzzed when I opened the door. I keyed in the new password, the buzzing stopped and the light turned green. What do you know; it worked.
    To be on the safe side, I checked my apartment for uninvited guests. Empty except for the mess I’d left. I set my packages down in the bedroom and reset the alarm. No one was going to surprise me now. I was impregnable, defended by the best SuperProtect could offer.
    I stripped off my T-shirt and shorts and decided to take a shower. It was getting late and I wanted to give myself an hour to get into Washington to find a parking space and meet Finn. After showering, I toweled off and blow-dried my hair. I stared at my pale face in the bathroom mirror and figured I might as well put on makeup. Reaching under the sink, I pulled out the box that held every bit of makeup my mom had ever bought me. I lifted out the top item and determined that it was an eyelash curler. I held it up to my eyelashes and squeezed, pinching my eyelid. After I had finished screaming, I shoved the curler back into the box and returned it and the makeup to the cabinet under the sink. I combed my hair some more and put on a dash of lip balm. That would have to do for the makeup department.
    A bit nervously, I slid into my thong underwear, the Wonderbra and the red dress. I smoothed down the dress and then stepped into my new red pumps. Examining myself critically in the mirror, I wondered how it was mathematically possible to appear flat-chested even with the Wonderbra at work.
    Nevertheless, I still felt a little bit sexy and dangerous, especially because it did seem like I was walking around without underwear. In a way, I guess I was. That string didn’t cover squat down there. I wasn’t sure I wanted to feel that way for a meeting with a lawyer, but hey, you only live once. And the way things were going with me, I might not be living all that much longer anyway. I set the alarm, locked the apartment up tight and left, feeling confident no one would breach my home again.
    I drove to Washington with the top down, actually managed to find a parking space not too far from Murphy’s and walked into the pub fifteen minutes early. The place was hopping, but I found a small table in the back of the bar. The radio was playing Irish music and I kind of liked the sound of it. I ordered seltzer water with a lemon and cased the place. My red shoe tapped in time to the beat of the jig.
    At precisely seven-thirty a handsome young man in a navy blue suit walked through the door. He looked around the place and his gaze settled on me. He looked puzzled and then surprised. I knew it was Finn the moment he started walking toward me.
    “Lexi Carmichael?” he asked and I recognized the faint Irish lilt to his