Royce
As much as I wanted to sleep until noon, my body wouldn’t let me. More to the point, my mind wouldn’t let me. The minute I opened my eyes, my brain started going over every piece of evidence we’d gathered so far in our investigation of Archie’s murder.
I was disappointed Maxwell wasn’t in the bed. Had he never returned from his late-night house call? Perhaps he had returned. I’d been dead to the world. He might easily have come home and gone back out again. I sat up, noticing Grumpy wasn’t with me in the bed. Smiling, I realized that probably meant Max was somewhere in the house, and my faithful pup was with him.
Throwing back the covers, I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth. Then I headed straight for the coffeepot and Max. When I entered the kitchen, Max was at the table, reading the paper while sipping coffee, and Grumpy was eating his breakfast. My heart skipped a beat when Max looked up from his newspaper and smiled.
“Hey, there,” I said softly.
He rose and set his newspaper down. “You look more rested.”
“I feel almost human again.” I slipped my arms around him, and he did the same.
“We’re like two ships that pass in the night lately.”
I frowned. “I know. I hate it.”
“Me too.”
I lowered my head and kissed him. His mouth was warm against mine, and just that peck turned me on. To be honest, I’d have loved to drag him back to the bedroom for a quickie. I missed him. I craved him. But I needed to get to the station, and he no doubt needed to get to the clinic.
When the kiss ended, he sighed. “That’s better.”
“Yeah.” I smiled, and then my gaze fell on a red high heel sitting in the center of the table. Frowning, I asked, “I know you’re a snazzy dresser, Max, but isn’t that going just a little too far?”
He smirked. “You don’t think I could carry it off?”
“Oh, I’m sure you could.” I let go of him and moved to the coffee maker. I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and filled the large cup with coffee and cream. I returned to the table and stood beside Max. “So what’s the story behind the fancy footwear? And why is there only one shoe?”
Maxwell grimaced. “Well, it’s a long story. Should I wait until lunchtime to tell you?”
“No. The curiosity might kill me. I have time now.” I sipped my coffee, wincing when it burned my tongue.
“Remember I went to tend to Janelle last night?”
“Yes. Is that hers?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Okay, mind telling me whose it is?” I smiled. “Not that it isn’t a lovely centerpiece and all.”
“I think it might be evidence. Or maybe not.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “How should I put this?”
“Hopefully better than you have so far. Things are about as clear as mud to me right now.”
He laughed sheepishly. “I think this high heel belongs to Janelle’s stalker.”
“I wasn’t aware we’d confirmed she had one.”
“We haven’t. But I think there’s a very real possibility someone is stalking her.” He pointed to the shoe. “Last night, when I went to Janelle, she swore she’d seen someone wandering around in the garden. I thought she was probably hallucinating. Mostly because, of course, she thought it was Kimora.”
I groaned. “The poor kid still thinks Kimora is haunting her?”
“More than ever.” He grimaced. “Obviously, I don’t think Kimora is haunting Janelle. But someonewaswandering around in the garden last night, just like Janelle said. That high heel is proof.”
“Hmmm. How do you know Janelle didn’t place the shoe in the garden, hoping you’d find it?”
“She couldn’t have possibly known I’d go look.”
