Take the Monkeys and Run (A Barbara Marr Murder Mystery #1) (31 page)

“Of course not. In fact, do you mind if I stick around a little while longer? This place is starting to grow on me. Pretty exciting around here.” He smiled.

“Sure,” I said, “stay as long as you want.”

I polished off at least six tacos, and they were yummy in my tummy. Finally feeling satiated, I decided to go see how Howard was doing. He had pulled the curtains shut and was under the covers on the bed, out like a light. I looked at his peacefully sleeping face. I wondered about the man I didn’t seem to know now. How would we move forward from this? Could I forgive the years of lying? I didn’t know. I decided not to worry about it. There would be the time for the questions and time for the answers. Time, possibly, for understanding. Or not understanding. Another time, though. Another time.

I took off my shoes, crawled under the covers and curled up cozy like a spoon next to my husband, who was finally back where he belonged, in our bed. It felt nice to be safe again, basking in the warmth and comfort of a space that was ours and ours alone.

Chapter Twenty-Five

HALLOWEEN CAME AND WENT. I spent the first two weeks of November finessing ChickAtTheFlix.com, but was still working up the courage to put it up live on the web. Now, just two days before Thanksgiving, Roz, Peggy and I were sitting in chairs, dressed in white uniforms, watching a master class at Master Kyo’s Tae Kwon Do.

“Do your sides hurt?” whined Peggy. “My sides hurt.”

“Only your sides hurt?” I moaned in response. “My whole body hurts. My fingernails hurt.”

“What are you all complaining about?” Roz piped up. “You should try this stuff with one of these on.” She held up her right hand presenting a very fashionable plastic wrist guard. Turns out, Frankie hadn’t broken her hand, but had wrangled her wrist into a fairly nasty sprain.

Having recovered from our various wounds, both physical and mental, we had resolved to learn ourselves some self-defense. We had strolled into our first class the previous week, full of excitement and eager willingness to tone our bodies and minds, while gaining the valuable skill of chopping a piece of wood in half with our feet. We figured if we could splinter wood with our feet, we could bring down any man, woman, or medium-sized animal that might seek to harm our middle-aged bodies. After two days at the back of the line as peon “No Belts” and suffering excruciating physical pain in every possible muscle in my body, my mind was now telling my body to skip this joint and go next door to Joe’s Bar for a cold one.

“So,” asked Peggy, “Have you heard anymore about Viviana? Is she being sent up the river?”

“What does that even mean?” asked Roz.

“I don’t know. Don’t they say that?” she said, grimacing as she lifted a knee to cross her legs.

“No,” I said, groaning. “I don’t think Howard is allowed to tell me anymore. Or else he won’t. Don’t know which. You know, we’re all witnesses. We’ll be required to testify against her in court.” It was hard to tell if the worry on their faces was from fear of court, or fear of the upcoming hour of cruel Korean torture.

“What about Howard?” asked Roz. “Looks to me like he hasn’t moved back in yet. What’s the deal?”

I grinned an evil grin. “I’m making him date me again. Told him he had to work to win me back.”

“Will he?” asked Peggy, “I mean, you will forgive him, right? Right?”

“Maybe . . .” I said.

“What about Colt? I saw him at your house yesterday—he hasn’t left yet?”

“He’s moving out here—says he likes the area. Evidently DC is a great place for PIs. Congressmen cheating on their wives and such.”

“Where’s he staying?”

“Howard’s condo. They’re roommates again.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. Roz and Peggy bugged out their eyes in response. “Oh, yeah,” I said. “It’s very interesting. Funny too, because they have a new pet. A dog.”

“A dog?” asked Roz.

I nodded, smiling. “Puddles. In a cast from the waist down.”

Roz and Peggy laughed, both grabbing their waists and grimacing from the pain that even a mere giggle could cause after a week of never-ending, sadistic sit-ups.

The master class had been dismissed, and energized boys and girls with important colored belts dashed onto the mat after making their requisite bows. I always forgot the bow. Certainly, the discipline and respect it represented were important. I didn’t disagree in theory, I just always forgot. Roz bravely stood up first, followed by Peggy. They looked at me, still sitting in my chair, every muscle aching and throbbing.

“Maybe we should bag this and learn to shoot a gun instead,” I proposed. “It wouldn’t hurt so much. And we’d probably all look really sexy holding one.”

Roz shook her head violently. “Forget it. This was your idea, remember? Besides, I’d be afraid to tell your mother we were quitting. She scares me.”

I acquiesced and rose slowly from my chair, making ouchy noises with each pain. Hobbling to the mat, I made the same darned mistake I made every time. I forgot to bow. I cringed as my foot touched the mat, realizing too late that the law had been broken. A booming roar sounded from the front of the room. “Mrs. Marr! Did you fail to bow?”

Roz and Peggy hid giggles from the instructor who was reprimanding me.

Damn!

“Yes, sir,” I mumbled, ashamed and embarrassed while all of the obedient little boys and girls stared at me.

“Mrs. Marr! I don’t think I heard you!”

I looked to the front of the class, finding my mother, the black belt instructor who was chiding me mercilessly. “Yes sir.” I repeated loudly enough for her to hear.

“Eric,” she said to the assistant standing next to her, “count for her while she does twenty push-ups.”

My handsome Officer Brad suppressed a smile as he met me in the corner where my punishment would be served. His left arm was fully encased in an orange cast that rested in a dark blue sling.

“You know how to shoot a gun, right?” I asked.

“You’re not thinking of shooting her, are you?” he asked.

“Actually, no—I was just thinking that I needed to learn how to use one for protection, but your idea is much better.”

“Okay, down on the floor for twenty,” he said.

I almost responded with a quippy remark regarding the possible innuendo contained within that statement, but fought back the urge. I smiled anyway and took a deep breath. If I could take three bullets in the chest from a spiky-heeled lady mobster on a mission to kill, I could manage a push-up or two . . . or twenty.

THE END

Other Books by Karen Cantwell

WERE YOU ENTERTAINED?

TRY THE second Barbara Marr novel,
Citizen Insane
.

If you think PTA meetings are boring, then you haven’t attended one in Barbara Marr’s neighborhood, where MURDER is on the agenda. Always one to stumble into trouble, Barb learns the hard way, that a seemingly innocent yearbook scandal is actually part of a seriously sinister and deadly plot. Join soccer mom and movie lover Barbara Marr in this second laugh-out-loud, chaotic mystery, where high-profile crime and suburban living collide in an unexpected fashion.

Also, for a fun between-the-novels Barbara Marr Mystery short, try
The Chronicles of Marr-nia
.

Four funny and touching short stories featuring soccer mom and movie lover, Barbara Marr, who made her debut appearance in the hilarious murder mystery, Take the Monkeys and Run.

Includes the laugh-out-loud mystery short story, “Missing Impossible.” When Barb decides to tag along on a PI job with Colt, things don’t go quite as planned, and she finds herself in yet another sticky situation. (A between-the-novels short)

Other short stories: “Taming the Hulk,” “Top Lawn,” and “The Road to Shangri-La.” Also, just for fun, the author has added two BONUS shorts with different themes. All-in-all - a collection sure to entertain.

Karen Cantwell loves to hear from readers. For more about Karen and her books, find her at
KarenCantwell.com
.

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