Shoes to Die For by Laura Levine

Author:Laura Levine [Levine, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, humour, contemporary
ISBN: 9780758207821
Amazon: B003KN3JJ8
Goodreads: 317081
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2006-04-30T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Maxine’s apartment was out in the valley, on a busy street in Sherman Oaks. The sign out front read Luxury Apartments. I gazed up at the beige stucco building with the rusted hibachis on the balconies. If these were luxury apartments, I was a size 2. First Malibu Villas, and now this. What was it with these apartment building owners? Hadn’t they ever heard about the concept of truth in advertising?

I parked out front and headed up to Luxurious Arms, as I was now calling it. The front path was littered with discarded Thai take-out menus. I found Maxine’s name and apartment number on the directory. Luckily someone had left the door open, so I didn’t have to buzz Maxine and ask her to let me in. Something told me she might not have said yes.

The lobby was a small square room with gold-flecked mirrored walls. I pressed the button for the elevator. As I waited for it to show up, I thought of Maxine’s tearful apology to Grace on the steps of the church. She’d begged Grace to forgive her for behaving “so horribly.” What the heck was that all about?

At last, the elevator doors opened, and I got on. I pressed the button for the third floor, and the doors slowly creaked shut. After another eternity, it started moving, squealing and moaning every inch of the way. The elevator had to have been one of Mr. Otis’s first models. I was certain that any second now, the cable would snap.

I cursed myself for eating that Quarter Pounder. Just my luck it would be that final quarter of a pound that broke the cord. I could see the headlines now: Woman in Elastic-Waist Pants Steps on Elevator, Cable Snaps. I sighed with relief when the elevator finally opened its doors onto the third floor.

I made my way down the corridor to Maxine’s apartment and rang the bell. I heard footsteps approaching; then a shadow flitted across the peephole.

Maxine opened the door, in a faded terry bathrobe.

“Jaine,” she said, “what are you doing here?”

I couldn’t think of a convincing lie to explain my presence outside her door, so I went with the truth.

“Actually, I’m investigating Frenchie’s murder.”

She blinked, puzzled. “I don’t understand. I thought you were a writer.”

“I am, but I also do a little private investigating on the side. Do you mind if I come in?”

I guess she minded, because she just stood there, blocking my path.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I already told the police everything I know.”

So much for going with the truth.

Just as she was about to shut the door in my face, I felt something furry around my ankles. I looked down and saw an old gray cat. Quickly, I scooped it up in my arms.

“What a darling kitty,” I cooed. I guess the cat must have smelled the Quarter Pounder on my breath, because it started nuzzling my cheek.

“That’s Sparkles,” Maxine said, smiling indulgently at her cat. “She really likes you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” I said, scratching Sparkles behind her ears.

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