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I did not expect that they thought I was making up things to make my life sound more interesting.
For Tod, this meant I reallywascrazy and he lived next to a woman who gets herself into a situation where she gets shot at and kidnapped.
“Stevie wants to sell the duplex, buy a condo. Says it will mean no yard work and we can have underground parking so we don’t have to scrape our windshields in the winter,” Tod told me.
I was not happy about this news. They were the best neighbors ever and they were my friends, and when I needed someone with a steady hand to put on my liquid eyeliner, where was I going to turn?
Tod went on, “We both didn’t want to leave you. You’re incapable of yard work and Stevie spent a lot of time on that yard. It’s his legacy.”
“So now you’re getting shot at, you’re gonna leave me?”
“Girlie, I’m from Texas. We shoot at each other to say good morning. Nowyou’regetting shot at, wecan’tgo.”
I didn’t have time to feel relief or gratitude at this news as the front door opened and Lee and Matt walked in.
I was on the ottoman doing my Florence Nightingale impersonation. Tod was still wearing the high-heeled sandals. Blood was dripping from his knees down his hairy shins and he had not yet shaved his face. Chowleena barked three times, her nails clicking on the hardwood floor each time her upper body landed after a bark. Then she sat down, looking excitedly between the four of us, obviously wondering which one would toss her a dog biscuit.
I introduced everyone then Lee said, “Can I talk to you alone?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, and neither he nor Matt reacted to me administering to a from-the-ankles-down drag queen. Lee calmly walked up the stairs.
“There’re cold drinks in the fridge,” I told Matt and Tod, and followed Lee, finding him in my bedroom.
He was looking around with curiosity. The walls were pale pink and the floors were covered in cream wool, thick weave carpet. There was a dressing table with a big mirror and padded bench with tubs, brushes and bottles scattered across the top. The bed was big and had a pink Pottery Barn comforter cover with little hot-pink flowers and lots of fluffy pillows at the head.
It was a girlie room, not the room of a Rock Chick, and thus was kind of a naughty little secret, just like my underwear.
When I entered, Lee turned melty-chocolate eyes to me.
“Nice room.”
My toes curled into the carpet.
I read a magazine article once about how guys actually liked feminine rooms because it made them feel like a conqueror when they invaded such a room.
Lee’s face showed he was in the conquering mood.
This didn’t last long. His eyes cleared and he became all business.
“Tell me about it.”
I ran down the story of Rosie and Lee showed no reaction.
When I was done, he asked, “How did he know Shubert had been killed?”
I shook my head. “He didn’t say.”
“Was he there?”
“He didn’t say, but he seemed pretty freaked about it.”
“Why are you the focal point of all this?”
I shrugged.
He watched me for a second then noted, “You smell like a beach.”
“Suntan oil,” I replied.
