cardboard cutout of a German shepherd.
Stacked within handy reach stood several dozen packing cartons. I saw one of Cindie Rae’s fluorescent sales items sitting on the topmost box, looking like the horn of a radioactive rhinoceros.
“You asked me to help get Alan out of jail,” I said, delicately pretending not to notice my surroundings. “I came to report what I’ve learned.”
“Oh,” she said. “You proved the Pinkerton lady did it?”
“Um, not exactly.” I indicated Calvin. “Perhaps your friend should leave so we can talk?”
Calvin’s jacket hung open far enough for me to see his sidearm. To Cindie Rae, he said, “She must have followed me here.”
“Really?” Cindie Rae blinked at me. “Why?”
With luck, Libby and Santa had made contact with the police by now. It was only a matter of keeping Cindie Rae occupied until the cavalry arrived.
“Because she knows,” said Calvin.
He unsnapped his holster and drew the gun. My heart skipped, and I froze as he leveled it at me. He spread his legs and supported the barrel of the gun with both hands as if preparing to mow down a squadron of Columbian drug dealers in a made-for-TV movie.
“Calvin,” I said, “let’s stay calm.”
“How does she know?” Cindie Rae asked.
“You probably said something dumb.”
“Me?” she demanded hotly. “What about you, Einstein? If you hadn’t gone wandering around the store that night—”
“That’s my job! I’m supposed to patrol.”
“Look,” I said. “Why don’t we sit down and relax for a minute?”
“Good idea.” Cindie Rae pushed me to the only spot to sit—the edge of her round bed. “Get comfortable right here while we think up what we should do.”
I dropped the shopping bags and sat down hard on the honeymoon bed.
“Tie her up.” Calvin pointed the gun at me.
“I don’t have any rope.”
“Use the handcuffs!”
I couldn’t take my eyes off the gun, which bobbled in Calvin’s hand as he scratched his ear. “Look, there’s no need to get carried away. Let’s just—”
“Shut up,” said Cindie Rae.
“Don’t move,” Calvin ordered.
Cindie Rae got down on her hands and knees and began groping through all the junk on the floor. “I should have figured out Alan was up to something when he sent me to you in the first place. He told me you’d dig up dirt on the Pinkerton lady! Why am I a sucker for cute guys?”
“He’s not so cute,” Calvin said.
“Are you kidding? Half the sales clerks in that stupid store were sleeping with him.” She came up with the handcuffs.
“Well, duh! He’s rich! And you’re not going to get any of his money if you can’t figure out a way to get married, Cin.”
“You expect me to marry that jerk now? I’m not sharing him with all those other women! That’s disgusting! Hold still,” she said to me. “Cal, she won’t hold still.”
Calvin stepped closer and pointed the gun at my nose. “Hold still.”
I allowed Cindie Rae to fasten the handcuff on my left wrist. She snapped the other bracelet around a leg of the nearest light stand. I said, “You must be devastated, Cindie Rae. To learn your fiancé has been unfaithful must have been a terrible blow.”
“Yeah,” she agreed with a pout, “a really terrible blow. I mean, last month I sat through eight performances of
Phantom of the Opera
for that guy. All those people shrieking the same song over and over? I deserve a really big wedding for that alone!”
“And to learn Popo was one of his paramours—”
“His what?”
“One of his girlfriends. You must have been furious.”
“Yeah, especially because she was jerking me around about the Lettitia McGraw handbag. I mean, what does it matter if I pick it up at the store or not? She was such a bitch. When Alan said we had to get rid of her, I—”
“Alan suggested killing her?”
“He said we had to get rid of her before we got married because she could make trouble. I
thought
he meant killing her.
Stacked within handy reach stood several dozen packing cartons. I saw one of Cindie Rae’s fluorescent sales items sitting on the topmost box, looking like the horn of a radioactive rhinoceros.
“You asked me to help get Alan out of jail,” I said, delicately pretending not to notice my surroundings. “I came to report what I’ve learned.”
“Oh,” she said. “You proved the Pinkerton lady did it?”
“Um, not exactly.” I indicated Calvin. “Perhaps your friend should leave so we can talk?”
Calvin’s jacket hung open far enough for me to see his sidearm. To Cindie Rae, he said, “She must have followed me here.”
“Really?” Cindie Rae blinked at me. “Why?”
With luck, Libby and Santa had made contact with the police by now. It was only a matter of keeping Cindie Rae occupied until the cavalry arrived.
“Because she knows,” said Calvin.
He unsnapped his holster and drew the gun. My heart skipped, and I froze as he leveled it at me. He spread his legs and supported the barrel of the gun with both hands as if preparing to mow down a squadron of Columbian drug dealers in a made-for-TV movie.
“Calvin,” I said, “let’s stay calm.”
“How does she know?” Cindie Rae asked.
“You probably said something dumb.”
“Me?” she demanded hotly. “What about you, Einstein? If you hadn’t gone wandering around the store that night—”
“That’s my job! I’m supposed to patrol.”
“Look,” I said. “Why don’t we sit down and relax for a minute?”
“Good idea.” Cindie Rae pushed me to the only spot to sit—the edge of her round bed. “Get comfortable right here while we think up what we should do.”
I dropped the shopping bags and sat down hard on the honeymoon bed.
“Tie her up.” Calvin pointed the gun at me.
“I don’t have any rope.”
“Use the handcuffs!”
I couldn’t take my eyes off the gun, which bobbled in Calvin’s hand as he scratched his ear. “Look, there’s no need to get carried away. Let’s just—”
“Shut up,” said Cindie Rae.
“Don’t move,” Calvin ordered.
Cindie Rae got down on her hands and knees and began groping through all the junk on the floor. “I should have figured out Alan was up to something when he sent me to you in the first place. He told me you’d dig up dirt on the Pinkerton lady! Why am I a sucker for cute guys?”
“He’s not so cute,” Calvin said.
“Are you kidding? Half the sales clerks in that stupid store were sleeping with him.” She came up with the handcuffs.
“Well, duh! He’s rich! And you’re not going to get any of his money if you can’t figure out a way to get married, Cin.”
“You expect me to marry that jerk now? I’m not sharing him with all those other women! That’s disgusting! Hold still,” she said to me. “Cal, she won’t hold still.”
Calvin stepped closer and pointed the gun at my nose. “Hold still.”
I allowed Cindie Rae to fasten the handcuff on my left wrist. She snapped the other bracelet around a leg of the nearest light stand. I said, “You must be devastated, Cindie Rae. To learn your fiancé has been unfaithful must have been a terrible blow.”
“Yeah,” she agreed with a pout, “a really terrible blow. I mean, last month I sat through eight performances of
Phantom of the Opera
for that guy. All those people shrieking the same song over and over? I deserve a really big wedding for that alone!”
“And to learn Popo was one of his paramours—”
“His what?”
“One of his girlfriends. You must have been furious.”
“Yeah, especially because she was jerking me around about the Lettitia McGraw handbag. I mean, what does it matter if I pick it up at the store or not? She was such a bitch. When Alan said we had to get rid of her, I—”
“Alan suggested killing her?”
“He said we had to get rid of her before we got married because she could make trouble. I
thought
he meant killing her.
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