AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Graham gave her a piercing look. “Annoying but harmless.”
Suddenly, Officer Hottie was all business. “Step out of the car, ma’am.”
A string of obscenities jammed against the back of her front teeth. Officer Hottie had heard her speak. He knew she didn’t have a British accent, but if Graham heard her plain midwestern speech, whatever slim chance she had of seeing this through would be ruined.
“Lift your arms, please.”
She clamped her jaw shut to keep all the words she couldn’t say from spilling out. Hottie didn’t order Graham to step back as he should. Famous football players could do whatever they wanted.
Fortunately, the cop only did a visual body search. Until he spotted a suspicious bulge in the pocket of her jeans. “Ma’am, I’m going to have to search you.”
She couldn’t say a word in her defense, not while Graham stood there taking this all in with sadistic satisfaction. She gritted her teeth as Hottie patted her down.
He was professional. He only used the backs of his hands. But it was still humiliating. Here she stood, at the mercy of two virile men—one of them touching her, while the other might as well have been, considering how closely he was watching.
The cop pulled the package of peanuts from her pocket, examined it, then handed it back to her.
“We sure appreciate the great job you officers do to keep us safe.” Graham’s cornpone sincerity made her want to puke.
“How long has she been stalking you?” Hottie asked.
“Hard to say. I didn’t realize it until a couple of days ago. That taillight gave her away.” While she gnashed her teeth at her own stupidity, Graham was tightening the vise around her. “She was a chatty little thing when I confronted her last night, but she doesn’t seem to have much to say now.”
Officer Hottie turned his attention back to her. “Do you mind if I have a look in your car?”
She knew the law. He couldn’t search her car without probable cause, but Graham’s accusation had given him that. And would Cooper continue to believe she was harmless if he knew about her Glock? She needed to disclose where it was before the officer began his search.
She started to cough, pounding her chest with her fist and doing her best to muffle her words so her lack of a British accent might go unnoticed. “Make him . . . go away . . . first.” More coughing. “Then you can . . . look.”
The fake coughing made her choke for real, and the cop took her words as permission to search, but he was enjoying rubbing shoulders with one of the city’s most famous athletes too much to tell Graham to step away. Instead, Hottie ordered her into the back of his squad car.
She watched through the smudged window with mounting dread as Hottie opened the passenger door with Graham observing. It took the cop less than ten seconds to find the Glock. Graham turned toward the squad car, and even through the window, she could see his fury.
Hottie opened her trunk, exposing her tote bag bulging with disguises. Looking puzzled, he picked up her Tinkle Belle. A long conversation ensued between the two men. Finally, Graham shook hands with the cop and made his way to his Tesla without another glance in her direction.
***
Hottie, whose name turned out to be Officer Eric Vargas, eventually confirmed Piper’s employment, and after three hours at the police station and a second ticket for failing to repair the taillight, she was finally free to leave. Normally, she loved the homey comfort of her tiny condo with its high ceilings, bowed window, and hardwood floors, but today, she was beyond comfort. As she pulled a cold Goose Island from her refrigerator, she heard a knock at the door. “Piper! Piper, are you there, honey?”
Piper adored her downstairs neighbor, eighty-year-old “Berni” Berkovitz, but in the last few weeks, Berni had begun showing signs of dementia, and Piper was feeling too defeated right now to give her the attention she needed. Not that she had a choice. Berni was lonely, her eyes were still sharp, and she knew Piper was inside.
Piper trudged to open the door. “Hey, Berni.”
Berni didn’t wait for an invitation but came right in. Her neighbor’s short, Day-Glo-orange hair was uncharacteristically showing its gray roots, and her trademark crimson lipstick had gone missing. Before her husband’s death, Berni had worn exotic outfits, but now, instead of harem pants, a gondolier’s shirt, or a poodle skirt, she’d wrapped
herself in Howard’s old cardigan with a pair of sweatpants.
Piper held up her beer. “Want one?”
“Not after Labor Day. But I wouldn’t say no to a vodka on the rocks.”
Piper had the remains of a bottle of Stoli Elit from her prosperous days, and she went to get it. “Your generation sure knows how to drink.”
“A source of pride.”
Piper forced a smile. In some ways Berni was the same person she’d been before her last cruise, when Howard had suffered a fatal heart attack off the coast of Italy. Piper wished everything could return to the way it used to be for Berni, but then Piper wished for a lot of things it didn’t look as though she could have.
“You’ve been gone so much lately, I’ve hardly seen you,” Berni complained.
