Swept Up (Maid in LA Mystery #4) by Jacobs Holly

Author:Jacobs, Holly [Jacobs, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-02-11T00:00:00+00:00

“Again, I’m here and feeling uncomfortable,” I said.

It was one thing to flirt with Big G, who I knew was only flirting to annoy Cal. It was entirely another thing to have Jonas flirt with me. I wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. Part of me was flattered, but the main part of me wasn’t interested and didn’t enjoy the banter.

“I’ll stop. But if he ever hurts you, you know my number.” Jonas shot me a killer smile which made Cal annoyed. He didn’t have to say anything for me to realize that.

Getting back to business, I asked, “Okay, so can you think of anything else from that night? Anything that sticks out, even if it seems insignificant?”

“I know that Cilla and Dylan had a fight, but not in an I’ll-go-kill-Mellie-now sort of way, but just a couple sort of disagreement. I don’t know what about. And I mention it in case someone else did and you’re looking at them. It wasn’t them.”

“I don’t think so either.”

“And…well, anything I say will stay between us, right?”

“I told Detective Randolph I’d share anything that was relevant to the case, but if it’s not, sure, we’ll keep it between us.”

“Mellie hit on me again, big time. Blatantly at your party. She ‘accidentally,’” he air-quoted the word, “let the strap fall and let the bodice of that tart-fest dress she was wearing slip in order to expose herself. Then laughed, pulled up the strap and whispered that the dress obviously wanted the same thing she wanted.”

He shook his head in disgust. “I explained that both her and the dress were out of luck.”

“That sounds like Mellie,” I said.

I didn’t like her before, but my dislike had grown as I talked to people. I felt bad about that. I didn’t like not liking a dead woman.

“I didn’t kill her because she hit on me,” Jonas said. “I mean, I’ve been hit on a few times in the past and the women I turned down are all still alive.

“Thanks, Jonas.”

“You’ll keep me posted?” he asked.

I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to keep him posted on the investigation or on whether or not Dusted was going to be produced, but it didn’t matter. I nodded.

“We’ll talk to you soon,” Cal said and stood.

I followed suit.

“Are you going to the memorial service?”

I felt horrible. I hadn’t thought about Mellie’s service. I didn’t like her, but there was no way I could not go.

“Yes, I’m sure I’ll have to go.” It sounded less than enthused even to my own ears. “Sorry. But yes, I’ll be there.”

“Me, too. I think maybe that’s the saddest part of this whole thing. I mean, everyone dies, but it would be nice to think when it’s your time to go, people will mourn your loss. But I guess, you reap what you sow.” He paused. “And yes, I know how that sounded. Reap What You Sow. Now there’s a title in that.”

He saw us to the door. “Speaking of titles,” he said before we walked out.

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