Dead Friends Don't Lie (Jake Hancock Private Investigator Mystery series Book 6) by Dan Taylor

Author:Dan Taylor [Taylor, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2017-08-02T22:00:00+00:00

24.

MICHELLE’S ZINGER IN response to condition number two? “You’re not my type.”

Even through the heavily applied makeup, Michelle can see the disappointment on my face.

So after she’s parked her moped in the apartment building parking lot, we’ve locked her ridiculously small pistol up in my mailbox for the night, and have gone into the elevator together, she asks, “What?”

“You can do better than that, Michelle.”

She looks hurt. I had no idea she takes such pride in her zingers. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“A C-minus. And I’m being really generous.”

“Okay, what would you have said?”

“I don’t use zingers. I take more pride in my banter.”

“That’s a cop out.”

“It’s true, but I could still think of a better one. I just won’t.”

“You know what I think?”

“No.”

“I think you consider yourself the zinger king of Hollywood, and that if you were pressed to think of one, you’d choke.”

“I see what you’re doing, despite that goofy zinger king of Hollywood comment.” But I think a second, anyway. “I would’ve said, ‘It’s past my bedtime.’”

She puts her hand to her mouth, suppressing laughter.

I say, “See?”

“That was terrible.”

“It wasn’t my best effort, admittedly.”

“What’s your best, then?”

I get to thinking again, but I’m saved by the ping of the elevator as we reach my floor.

Both at the same time, we say, “Saved by the bell.”

The door opens and we make our way to my apartment.

I say, “Jesus, we’re lame.”

“Speak for yourself.”

I run the apartment rules by her before we enter, all the while conscious of the fact that I’m bringing what looks like a cheap hooker wearing badly applied makeup into my apartment for what would be reasonable for my neighbors to assume is hot, sweaty clown sex.

Why didn’t I just bring her inside straightaway, saving myself the potential embarrassment of Margaret Hammer in 5J spotting us through her peephole? It relates to rule one.

To which Michelle replies, “I would’ve taken my shoes off anyway.”

“Then I think your brief stay in my apartment won’t grate on me as much as I thought it might.”

Michelle says what most of my guests say upon entering my apartment: “Holy shit! How many dicks did you have to suck to afford this place?”

“I managed to get this place without sucking even one dick.”

She looks around, unable to keep her eyes off my impeccable taste, and I follow her, for some reason looking around the apartment I see every day.

We finish up in the living room.

Despite the woman in my apartment having pointed a gun at my balls a mere four hours ago, I automatically go into host mode.

I indicate for her to take a seat on my designer couch with an open palm, and say, “Please. Take a seat.”

She does and then looks at me funny. She says, “I don’t get it.”

“What?”

I walk over to the kitchen.

Then she says, “You and this place.”

“What’s not to get?” I open the refrigerator. “Do you fancy a night cap?”

“I wouldn’t say no.”

“I don’t drink wine, but I keep some around the place for guests.

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