And if I thought jumping onto the slide of a princess castle like some kind of Indiana Jones was hot, this was about one hundred times hotter.
I knew the cops were seconds away from the car, and I still almost begged Horst to take me right there in the front seat of his Civic, a handful of fast food wrappers brushing my ankles as I shifted my feet on the floor.
I had come so close to forgetting that we were making out only as an alibi that I was genuinely startled when someone rapped on Horst’s window and a flashlight lit up the car from outside. I let out a little half scream that earned a nod of approval when Horst drew back. “Nice touch,” he whispered before he turned to roll down his window.
With a handcrank. Because that’s how old his car was.
“Why, Officer Melody Simpson! What are you doing here on this lovely evening?”
I winced. Of all the cops to find us out here...
Officer Simpson lowered the flashlight so it was no longer in my eyes, and I could see a mixture of resignation and confusion warring on her face. “A better question, Mr. Pfeiffer, would be what areyoudoing here?”
Horst looked toward the dashboard, rubbing the back of his neck as though he were embarrassed to have to admit exactly what we were doing. “As to that, officer, we were...uh...” In the cool light from the flashlight, I could see he was even blushing. “Well, we just needed a little time alone.”
“I see.” It was obvious that she did. Because, you know, the light, while no longer in my eyes, was still on me. Me and my rose gold bra with the little rhinestones along the straps just glittering away in the police officer’s flashlight. “This is kind ofdéjà vu for me. The last time I saw the two of you, you were making out while Ms. O’Bryan was shirtless.”
Horst half turned in his seat, stretching one arm out and resting his wrist on the steering wheel in a pose so casual I almost believed we hadn’t just emerged from an illicit encounter in a bouncy house rental warehouse. “I hate to disagree with an esteemed officer of the law, but that just isn’t true,” he said, his tone light.
The beam of the flashlight wavered ever so slightly. “No?”
“That was the last time you arrested me. But the last time you saw me was after I had bailed out, and Glory definitely had a shirt on by then. Remember? You told me to stay out of trouble?”
She nodded slowly. “I do remember that, yes. And it looks like you didn’t listen.”
Horst jerked back as though she’d slapped him. “I think that’s going a little far. Maybe we didn’t have the best judgment this evening, but”—he turned to look at me, a dazzling smile on his lips even though the policewoman couldn’t see it—“just look at this woman. She makes it hard to make good decisions. But I certainly wouldn’t call what we were just doing ‘getting into trouble.’”
“Mmhmm.” Officer Simpson didn’t sound convinced. “There was a break in just down the way there. Clyde’s Pawn Shop.”
Horst looked back at the policewoman, shaking his head. “Crime’s getting worse every day. I’ll tell you what, officer, I sure am grateful to have people like you looking out for all the law-abiding citizens of Gallows Bay.”
Officer Simpson shifted the flashlight from one hand to the other. “As much as I appreciate that, it certainly seems like a big coincidence, doesn’t it? You being here while a break-in was going on?”
“Not such a coincidence,” Horst said with a shrug. “We were looking for a dark, isolated place where we could spend a fewminutes, um, talking. I would imagine that burglars look for the same kind of places, right? Just for less fun purposes.”
Officer Simpson practically snorted. For a moment, her gaze went to the base of my throat, and I realized Horst had left a hickey there with all that teeth scraping.
Sexiest. Alibi. Ever.
“You didn’t happen to see anything odd, did you?” she asked.
“We weren’t exactly paying attention to anything outside the car,” Horst said. “I’m sorry. Had I known a crime was going on and we had the chance to provide information on the miscreants involved...” He trailed off, then reached over and laid his hand on my knee. “No, actually, sorry. I probably still wouldn’t have been able to tear my eyes away from Glory here.”
Officer Simpson studied us both for a moment, then shook her head. “Against my own better judgment, I’m going to let you two go. But maybe try to find more socially—and legally—acceptable places to, as you put it, ‘talk.’ Okay?”
“We definitely will. Thank you, officer.” Horst reached down to roll up the window, then stopped. “And if I do happen to think of anything I might have seen, I’ll give you a call.”
“Thank you.” She walked toward her car but turned to watch us as Horst rolled the window up and started the car.
“Excellent work, Glory O’Bryan,” he said as he buckled up, backed out of the parking space, and drove slowly past the cop car toward the front of the strip mall.
I’d buckled up, too—no sense courting a seatbelt ticket from Officer Simpson—and I struggled to pull my shirt over my head with my seatbelt on. I was relieved that we’d managed to escape another encounter with the cops with no arrests, but something was bothering me.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked, managing to tug my shirt on under the shoulder portion of my seatbelt.
“I thought it might be helpful. You’re throwing a princess party, right? Maybe you could rent a princess castle inflatable.”
“But I don’t have a parking lot big enough for an inflatable that size.”
