How to Launch Your Lizard by Melissa Banczak

Author:Melissa Banczak [Banczak, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Melissa Banczak

15

“What are you doing in Peep’s place?”

“Who’s Peep?”

“The guy who lives in that apartment. Tall. Foreign. No hair.”

Oh, The Bald Guy. If I explained to the cop that I had been kidnapped, I could probably get a ride. But then, there’d be questions. And he’d want to talk to The Bald Guy. And probably Frat Boy and The Giant too. And then I’d have to explain that I was sort of a silent partner to a Private Detective here in New York, looking for a woman whose name I couldn’t remember. He’d think I was an idiot.

“Hang on.” Now he was shaking that finger at me like it was helping him remember something. “You’re June Nash, aren’t you?”

Of course he was a Dewzer. Which actually worked in my favor. For once.

“Ever wake up the next morning with regrets?” I asked, leaning on the fire escape railing.

The cop chuckled. “You’re not the first woman I’ve seen use the escape route.”

Wow. Poor Bald Guy.

“How do I get down from here?”

“There’s a lock on the step,” he said, pointing. “Kick it open with your foot.”

I grasped the railing with one hand and kicked the latch with my right foot. On the third try, there was a clang, and the ladder rolled down. The missing sister had lied.

“Drop me your purse,” he said.

I did, and when I reached the bottom of the ladder, he was there to help me to the ground.

And up close, he wasn’t bad looking. Thirtyish. Dark skin. Maybe Mexican. Maybe a light skinned African American. Clean shaven and baby faced. A casual glance at his hand told me he wasn’t married. Or at least, didn’t wear his ring. This day was getting better.

“You wouldn’t be able to give me a lift, would you?” Maybe this whole missing-sister thing was all for the best. She had gotten away. And how else would I have met this guy?

He smiled at me and I flashed on the possibility of a whole afternoon with him. Lunch. Biking through Central Park. Him arresting Fake June at her next wrestling match.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m on foot patrol today doing a neighborhood check-in.”

Blast. I’d have to stick with suing Fake June. And eating lunch alone.

“But don’t worry,” he said as he returned my hobo bag. “I’ll keep your walk-of-shame secret.”

“Thanks.” But I was pretty sure that this was going to end up on the IHateJuneNash dot com website before I even made it to a cab. ‘Cause that’s how my life went.

I took a step toward the sidewalk and the cop touched my arm.

“I saw Peep in his shop,” he said. “If I were you, I’d head up that alley and take a right on Grand.”

“Thanks,” I headed the same way the sister had gone. At least Morgan would be happy to hear that she was all right. I stuck a hand in my purse and felt around for my phone. Wait. It was still back in the store room. With my flask. That one hurt just a little bit more.

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