Not One Clue_ A Mystery - Lois Greiman [68]
Rivera eyed me as he shoved his phone in the front pocket of his blue jeans. I tried not to watch.
“Where were you?” he asked, skimming my copper mermaid form with his hot gaze.
Shit. I hadn’t exactly thought of lies to cover this part of the conversation yet, but at least I had lost the wig. “I went to a, ummm … party.”
“Dressed like that?”
“It was a theme party.”
“And you were the little mermaid?” he asked. “All grown up?”
Hilarious. “Yes,” I said.
He gave me his patented almost-smile. “You go with Elaine?” he asked, and I stiffened a little, not wanting to divulge too much … like the fact that barely a full hour before I had been flirting like a streetwalker with his father. Kill me now, I thought, and tried to look confused. Some jobs are harder than others.
“No.”
“So you went alone?”
I shrugged, evasive as hell. “She was busy with wedding plans or something.” I managed to refrain from that nervous throat-clearing thing I sometimes do.
“So the house was empty when you got home.”
“Except for Harlequin,” I said.
He nodded and rubbed the dog’s ears. Harley closed his eyes and looked as if he might swoon with happiness. Which made me think that if worse came to worse in my so-called love life, which, by the by, it had, I’d settle for an ear rub.
“The house was locked?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Security system on?”
“Yes.”
He nodded, satisfied. Maybe I’d get an “Atta girl” if I didn’t warrant an ear rub, I thought, but he moved on.
“So you let Harley out. What happened after you’d retrieved your Mace?”
“I went out there just to take a look around. I mean, for all I knew it was just Bryn but …” I shrugged. “It looked like the guy was wearing a turban. So I thought of Aalia. By the time I got to the corner of the garage they were already near the car so I, umm …” Here’s where it got sticky. “I asked him to let her go.”
“Are you serious?”
I bristled immediately. “Of course I’m serious.”
“He had a handgun and you have a can of puke juice and you asked him to let her go?”
“I’m a trained psychologist, Rivera. It’s not as if I just fell out of the cabbage patch or something. I have some working knowledge of how people’s minds—”
“Jesus,” he said, and scrubbed his face with one hand. “Why can’t I just have a girlfriend who doesn’t feel it’s necessary to play Wonder Woman every day of her frickin’ life?”
“—work. In fact …” I blinked. “What did you say?” I asked, but just then my front door burst open.
We jerked toward it in unison, I with my Mace, Rivera with his big-ass phallic symbol.
Ramla gasped and halted in the doorway, eyes wide, mouth open.
There was a blink of silence, then, “My sister,” she rasped, attention darting from Rivera to me. “She is gone. I but went to the—”
It was then that Aalia appeared again.
The two women stared at each other for one abbreviated instant, then rushed into each other’s arms. A stream of dialogue I couldn’t decipher followed. There wasn’t much point in interrupting.
“Thank you,” Ramla said finally. She was clasping Aalia’s hand. “Christina.” She nodded solemnly at me, then at Rivera. “Lieutenant, you have my gratitude everlasting.”
He was back to his full-body scowl. “I’ll have more questions for her later,” he warned.
“She will not leave the house. I will make certain of it,” Ramla said, and ushered her sister toward the door.
Rivera accompanied them to the Al-Sadrs’ house. In his absence, I tried to think. It didn’t go particularly well. I needed a couple months to reflect on things. It was less than a minute before he returned.
“You shouldn’t have gone outside,” he said, approaching rapidly and resuming the conversation where we’d left it.
“Does that mean I’m not your girlfriend?”
He closed his eyes and rolled his head as