Death By High Heels (The Kim Murphy PI Series Book 1) by Violet Ingram

Author:Violet Ingram [Ingram, Violet]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2016-05-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Thursday

The next morning, I was jarred awake by something the radio station insisted was music. To me it just sounded a lot like chain saws, dental tools, and the lawn guy’s leaf blower. I turned the alarm off and considered staying in bed. After Grant left I eventually fell asleep and was plagued with nightmares. In the light of morning I couldn’t remember them and for that I was grateful. I jumped out of bed and got dressed in workout clothes, making sure to put my favorite sports bra on underneath. With a 36C chest there was no way I was going to exercise without one. I rushed down the stairs, grabbed my purse, and took off for Lakeview Gym.

Over the next hour, I was tortured by several evil machines. I wasn’t sure who the lying piece of crud was who had claimed some bull about endorphins. I did know if I ever got my hands on him, I’d beat the crap out of him. I assumed it had to be a guy because, let’s face it, a woman wouldn’t lie to other women about something that important. As I walked toward my car I wondered just how many calories I’d burn beating his sorry ass up.

Back home, I took a quick shower before getting dressed and putting my hair up in a ponytail holder. Before leaving I took a few minutes to apply lipstick and mascara. Not satisfied with the results, I went ahead and finished putting on my face. At the office I headed straight for the small kitchen. It was eight o’clock and I was desperate for caffeine. Not in a hurry to start the workday, I stood staring at the coffee maker, willing it to work faster. Finally, I filled my mug and walked into my office, flipping on lights as I went.

Settled as comfortably as possible in a desk chair, I flipped on the computer to find out what was happening in the world, or at least my little part of it. While I’d slept there’d been a garage fire, two driving under the influence, otherwise known as drunk driving arrests, and a domestic disturbance call. Not bad for a Wednesday night.

Lindsay’s idea that because she was getting her apartment back meant the whole thing was over for her was just stupid. She should have been asking her lawyer boyfriend about what happened next. Though I doubted they did a whole lot of talking. An image I fervently wished I could push the delete button on popped into my head. I just hoped it wouldn’t start a vomiting marathon. At the very least I wasn’t likely to eat anything for at least a whole hour.

“So, this is what the private investigator, busy at work, looks like.”

“Mr. Abraham, what are you doing here?”

“Kim, you know what I want.”

“That’s Miss Murphy to you and what I want is you gone.”

“Is that any way to treat the guy who’s been helping you?”

“You must be delusional if you think following me around and badgering me is helping.

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