Bigfoots Don't Do Mini Coopers (Kate Storm Book 1) (16 page)

As I still had no clue, silence seemed my best option. I figured her boyfriend must have broken up with her and now he was a current client.

“You have nothing I can’t offer him.” Okay, considering her tiny waist and ability to negotiate around in potentially deadly heels, she had a small point. However, my witchy half reminded me I didn’t have to take it.

“
I don’t know . . .” I couldn’t get the rest of the words out, much less my gas inducing spell, before she interrupted me.

“
I can’t believe he would come to
you
.” Okay now, that was taking things a bit too far. I may be twenty or thirty pounds overweight - I try not to keep track of the exact amount - but Ash had no complaints so far. Plus it didn’t matter what I looked like, I was the matchmaker.

“
Look . . .” I didn’t get any farther than that before she started in again.

“
A matchmaking service. Really? You expect me to believe that?” I had no idea what she was talking about. I am not a believer in false advertising. “More like an escort service.” She sneered at me. “Or do you “import” your women.” She made little air quotes as she said the word
import
.

She
’d gone far enough. No one - I don’t care what species they belonged to - could insult my business. Or imply I was involved in human trafficking.

The. Utter. Gall.

My fingers flexed around my wand. Giving her gas would not do it. She needed several moles on her glorious breasts. Complete with hair growing out of them.

I tightened my grip on my wand.

“I can offer him everything and anything he desires.” She placed her hands on my desk and leaned forward. Her gravity defying breasts heaved ferociously. I took a step back.

“
You have nothing. You hear me? Nothing!” Repeating herself seemed to be a recurrent habit with her.

I started to whi
sper the words to my spell.

Ms. Righteous Fury broke down and began sobbing.

I gotta say, I did not see that coming.

Well, crap. I couldn
’t very well cast a nasty spell on her now that she was wailing like a sick siren barred from her first orgy.

Her waili
ng reached caterwauling levels. Trust me, after Harley, I
know
caterwauling to every excruciating decibel.

Sweet Spirits.

I dropped my wand and barreled around my desk, wincing with each step. My ears were never going to be the same. Even with a healing spell.

She
’d wrapped her arms around her waist as if for comfort. I wrapped my arms around hers.

“
There. There.” Damn it. I really did need to brush up on my comforting skills.

She wailed some more.

“There, there.” I was reaching for the paperweight on my desk to knock her out, when she gave a deep sob and collapsed against me.

This was marginally better. At least she wasn
’t wailing anymore. However, she was now sobbing into my t-shirt. I don’t know anyone in any species who can sob like that without snotting too.

Damn it.

I gave her five minutes. At which point, my shirt was drenched and my empathy had dwindled.

I was considering my paperweight again when she lifted her head and pulled back. “
I’m sorry.” I thought a more abject apology would be appropriate considering the depths of her insults, but I’d take what I could get. “I didn’t mean to break down like that.” But she did mean the accusations?

“
It was just seeing his picture put me over the edge.”

Wow. And I thought I had issues with politicians.

“I guess I’m still in shock. I didn’t find out until last night he’d come to see you.” She sniffed, reached into her purse and pulled out a kleenex. I glanced down at my top. She didn’t need it. “I was gone over the weekend and just got back this morning.” She patted delicately under her eyes. I don’t know why she bothered. “I was at a modern organic spa.” She saw my puzzled look. “They don’t allow electronics. So I had to hear the news when I got back.”

For the life of me, I still could not figure out what her pr
oblem was. A break up with her boyfriend was between them and I had nothing to do with the senator’s death. Staging his murder scene? Yes. But not the actual killing. Plus, I hadn’t heard my name or business mentioned on the news. Even if she was some sort of psycho political groupie, she shouldn’t have made a connection between me and the senator.

“
Tom didn’t even bother to call. He had one of his aids leave the message.”  She crumbled the kleenex and dropped it onto my desk. “I cannot believe he thinks he can just brush me aside after all these years.”

Crap. I was starting to get a really bad feeling.

“He can’t even be bothered to return my call now that he’s looking for a
wife
.”

Oh. Shit.

“After all I’ve done for him. He thinks he can just toss me aside like yesterday’s garbage?” She tossed her head. Her frizz-free, silky blonde locks moved in unison. “I’ve got a few choice words for him.” She narrowed hazel eyes and stabbed her finger towards me.

I wou
ld have taken offense at that, but I was too busy trying to figure out how to tell her that her lover was dead.

“
Um.” I drew a complete and utter blank.

“
Did he even mention me to you?”

“
Ah.” I couldn’t insult her before I found the right words that would completely devastate her.

“
Did he tell you how long we’ve been together?” Luckily she seemed content to continue on without my input. “Did he tell you how much money Daddy has contributed to his career?” She held up one slender hand as she ticked off her complaints with her fingers. “Or how many connections he’s made with Daddy’s help?”

“
Uh.” I racked my brain frantically to find the gentlest way to inform her of Tom’s demise. Something calm and sympathetic would work. Perhaps with an offer of tea as well.

“
Did he tell you about all the parties I’ve hosted for him? The countless hours I’ve spent making sure every little detail was perfect? All the right people were invited?”

“
He’s dead.”

That stopped her tirade.

Well, shit. I clearly needed to work on my sympathetic skills as well as my comforting skills. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

She ignored my offer and frowned at me. “
Who’s dead?”

I took a small step back and braced myself for another round of wailing. “
Tom Crawford.” I covered my ears with my palms.

“
Hhh whaa?”

Frog warts. I lowered my hands just enough so I could actually hear. “
What did you say?”

“
Did you say Tom Crawford is dead?”

I nodded and slapped my hands back over my ears.

She didn’t break down. She didn’t start wailing again. Nor did she attempt to attack me.

I
’d pretty much counted on any one of those three reactions. Now I was just puzzled.

Maybe she was in shock. I lowered my hands. “
Did you hear what I said?”

She frowned at me. “
Tom Crawford is really dead?” One of us was going to have to actually answer a question.

“
Yep. He’s dead.” I braced myself. “Murdered, actually.”

Her eyebrows disappeared into her bangs. “
Someone murdered Tom?”

“
Uh, huh.” I lowered my hands completely. Maybe it was simply too much for her. I should probably pick up my wand, just in case she was in shock and fainted. Or started the high pitched screaming again.

“
Who killed him?” She was taking this rather well.

“
I’m not sure. The police said it could have been a burglar.” I rounded my desk and picked up my wand. “They found him at his campaign office in Virtue.” Each sentence was totally true.

“
That son of a bitch.” I dropped my wand again. I could not get a feel for this woman. Her reactions were beyond anything I could relate to. “I can’t believe he did this to me.”

I refrained from pointing out the obvious: I sincerely doubted Tom Crawford managed to get himself murdered just to piss her off.

I’m a matchmaker. I believe in the power of love. I believe in relationships and marriage.

I didn
’t understand her at all.

Dé
sirée cautiously eased her head around the doorframe. She took in the now calm blonde - currently tapping her nails in a distinctly irritated manner on my desk and staring off into space - and heaved a huge sigh. She beamed at me. “There’s a Mr. Smith here to see you.”

The xenologist.

Just wonderful. What else could go wrong today?

“
And there are a couple of detectives.” Désirée Norma-Sue brushed a violet strand behind one ear. She lowered her voice to a near whisper. “Detective Connor and Detective Brushing.”

I just had to ask, didn
’t I?

“
Désirée would you mind bringing,” I still had no idea what the blonde’s name was. I motioned with my hand, “this woman into the waiting room and showing the detectives in?”

I had not anticipated the full usefulness of a secretary.

“Sure thing, sugar.” Désirée glided in, threaded her arm through the blonde’s and urged her toward my door. She could contemplate how totally inconvenient the Senator’s death was just as easily in my waiting area. “Ma’am, if you could come with me.”

I had a full thirty seconds to cast a calming spell before the detectives entered. Detective Connor wore a blue jacket this time and Detective Brushing had on a tan o
ne. Other than that, everything was the same as the first time I met them. Except one minor detail. They stood much -
much
- closer together.

I felt like a young witch who had just completed her first successful spell.

Damn. Am I good or what? Fist pumps all around.

“
Hello detectives.” I could not help the wide grin stretching across my lips.

“
Ms. Storm.” Detective Conner nodded once. “Would you care to tell us about the blood we found outside your back door this morning?”

The wha?

They found blood? We missed some? Why had they checked out my alley? Was I now a suspect?

I know my face went white. I could literally feel all the blood draining down to my feet. It probably made me look even guiltier than they already suspected. There was nothing I could do abou
t it at the moment. I was way too busy just trying to not pass out.

I
knew
Morgan, Al and I had cleaned up every single drop of the senator’s blood. Yes, I had planned to double check things this morning, but that had been more in the form of a reassurance for my witchy soul than an actual belief that a vampire and a hit-man would have left behind traceable evidence at a crime scene.

Morgan had her own crime scene clean up kit, for Spirit
’s sake. And hundreds of years of experience.

“
Ms. Storm?” Detective Brushing prodded me.

“
I,” didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know.”

I stuck to the truth. It seemed the simplest thing to do since my mind had seized up and images of myself wasting away in a dark windowless cell had taken over the only part of
my brain that appeared to be working.

I stumbled backward until my watery knees hit the edge of my chair and I dropped. The chair creaked alarmingly and rocked back and forth. At another time I would
’ve been alarmed I might fall, but right now I didn’t care and my mind still wasn’t working.

The cell would be cold. No sunlight. No fresh air. No plants or hint of nature. Just me, three cement walls, a cot and metal bars.

I’d probably lose weight as I wouldn’t have an appetite, but I wouldn’t be able to appreciate it either. I wouldn’t see Al, Morgan or my Aunt Tabs except through thick glass. Ash. I wouldn’t see him either. I’d . . .

I may have actually passed out. I wasn
’t sure. When I heard the detectives calling my name, I realized I was sitting in my chair, but I had no idea how much time had passed.

“
What?” I blinked several times. Inhaled deeply. Still sitting in my chair in my office. Not behind bars. That was a good thing. A very good thing. I needed to concentrate on that.

Detective Brushing kneeled
in front of me. Genuine concern on his face. Detective Connor scowled at me from across my desk.

I really did not like that man.

“Are you all right?” Detective Brushing asked.

“
Am I a suspect?”