Holy crap, crap, crap.
“I’ll move in by the weekend,” I said.
He lifted his head and smiled.
Fucking Lee.
*
I was in the bathroom swiping on makeup.
The bruise on my cheek was nearly gone and my mental body checkup declared only slight aches and pains after a day of no mishaps (and a night and morning of great sex which apparently was an effective muscle relaxant). I was thinking my luck was turning as yesterday, outside of finally doing it with Lee, my adventures only included one dead body which fortunately wasn’t mine. Therefore good and bad instead of all bad.
Then Lee walked into the bathroom wearing just the faded navy sweat-shorts.
I glanced at him in the mirror and tried to tamp down my panic.
In the heat of the moment, I’d agreed to move in.
Okay, so it was more about what he said than the heat of the moment, but I’d still agreed to move in.
Further, I’d just noticed something I hadn’t really taken in the night before. Judy had given me a makeup drawer in Lee’s bathroom vanity.
It was all too much.
He slid a fresh mug o’ java on the vanity counter and put my cell beside it.
“Your phone’s beeping,” he said.
I moved aside to make room as he prepared to shave. I took a sip of coffee and let my mind run wild.
Dear Lord in heaven, I was putting on makeup and Lee was shaving, at the same time, in the same room, after having sex, lots of sex, even sex in this very room!
I stood, frozen to the spot, and stared at him.
He lathered his cheeks with a thin gel and his eyes slid to the side. He checked me out from their corners.
“Something wrong?”
“I’m not really a bathroom sharer,” I informed him.
He looked back in the mirror and continued doing exactly what he was doing.
“Honey, it’s good you’re gorgeous or you’d be a pain in the ass.”
Well, I’m so sure.
I grabbed my phone, looked at the display and saw seven missed calls.
Yikes.
How did that happen?
I called my voicemail while I leaned as best I could on my half of the vanity (I had to admit, it was a big vanity… maybe I was being a bit of a wuss) and swept mascara on my lashes.
Four voicemails.
First up, Willie Moses.
“Indy, Willie… call me.”
Hmm.
Second, Marianne.
“I know Ally said it’s none of my business but give me a break, I live with my parents, I don’t have a life. Yours is better and I want to know everything. Let’s meet at The Hornet tonight if you can guarantee we won’t get shot at.”
Yikes.
Third, Stevie.
“Well? How’d it go? Don’t forget Chowleena, I’ll be leaving just before noon. Tod will be home tomorrow, early, so if you still have her for a sleep over, just leave a note. Kisses.”
Fourth, Duke (who obviously was talking before being given the beep).
“… ass in here or I’m gonna kill him.”
I poked myself in the eye with the mascara wand.
“Holy crap,” I said.
“That looked like it hurt.”
I was blinking fiercely, my eye was tearing up, making my other eye tear up and I was trying to see my phone to replay Duke’s message.
Lee tore off some toilet paper, handed it to me and took the phone.
“Listen!” I told him. “The last message.”
I opened my mouth as far as it would go, which was a feminine mechanism that one had to use to open one’s eyes as far as they would go. I dabbed at the tears and blotches of mascara, trying to avert a cosmetics disaster.
“Who does he want to kill?” Lee asked.
“I don’t know, it’s Duke. He has the patience of a gnat and a three centimeter fuse. Do you think it could be Rosie?”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know, it’s Duke!” I cried, exasperated. “He refuses to buy a cell phone or answering machine. He’s a fucking caveman.”
Lee was scrolling down my phone book and he punched a button.
“Dolores? It’s Lee. Can I talk to Duke?”
Quick Thinker Lee decided to call Duke and Dolores’s home phone. Simple. I hated it when I was an idiot. Thank God he was the private eye in the family.
Oh jeez, did I just think “in the family”?
Must… stop… brain.
I reapplied some shadow and fixed the mascara while Lee was talking and then he said, “Yeah? Got it. Thanks.”
I screwed on the cap to the mascara and threw it in the drawer while Lee flipped shut the cell and slid it on the counter. Then he calmly went back to shaving. I slid the drawer shut with my hip.
“Well?”
“The police took the tape down at the store. Willie called you to let you know and when he couldn’t get you, he called Duke. Apparently, there’s a crazy Italian guy at Fortnum’s saying he’s your new coffee guy. Jane called Dolores because Duke was getting heated. Dolores called the cops. They’re handling it.”
“What crazy Italian guy?”
Lee tilted his head to see his jaw and slid his razor up his neck.
“Don’t know.”
“I didn’t even know we were open today! We have to get down there.”