Duffel Bags And Drownings by Dorothy Howell

someone and she had to get to work.”
    “
She
?” Bella’s eyes bugged out. “He was out with another girl and he called
you
to pick them up?”
    “And you
did it
?” I asked.
    “Well, she had to get to work,” Sandy pointed out. “But he says that just proves how
     much he cares for me.”
    “What the hell are you talking about?” Bella asked.
    Honestly, I was lost here, too.
    Sandy seemed clear on everything, however, and said, “Don’t you see? He lied to that
     other girl about being involved with someone else—me. But he told me the truth. He
     didn’t even make up a big story or anything—like she was his cousin, or something—when
     I picked them up. He says that just proves he holds me in a much higher regard than
     her.”
    “Lord have mercy,” Bella moaned, shaking her head.
    “So why do you need a ride home tonight?” I asked,
    “Because he needs my car,” Sandy said.
    “But he couldn’t pick you up after work?” I asked.
    “He has a date,” Sandy said.
    “I’m out of here.” Bella headed for the door.
    I was about to sprint out behind her when the door swung open and Rita, the cashiers’
     supervisor, stormed in. She was about as wide as she was tall, and always wore stretch
     pants and a shirt with a farm animal on it. Tonight, it was a cow being ridden by
     a leprechaun.
    “Break time is over, princess,” she barked at me.
    I hated Rita. In fact, I double-hated her, triple-hated her, and now simply hated
     her to infinity.
    I’m pretty sure she felt the same way about me.
    I got up and dumped my trash, then walked out of the breakroom without so much as
     a glimpse in her direction.
    My little corner of retail purgatory tonight was the housewares department. I was
     okay working there because I could slip into the stock room often, pretending to look
     for something for a customer.
    I mean, really, just because you had a job, did that mean you had to actually work?
     Personally, I saw little correlation between the two.
    I spotted an old couple near the pots and pans looking confused, as if they needed
     help, and my own brand of customer service immediately took over. I whipped around
     to head in the opposite direction and ran smack into someone.
    Yikes! I jumped back, then looked up.
    Oh, crap.
    It was Detective Dan Grayson
    How had he sneaked up on me like that? I have excellent avoidance skills. Was he really
     stealthier than me? Jeez, how annoying.
    Then it hit me—why was he here? Whatever the reason, I figured it couldn’t be good
     for me.
    “I can’t talk now,” I told him in what I hoped was my most serious I’m-dedicated-to-my-job
     voice.
    I guess I didn’t pull it off very well because he shifted closer and said, “What I
     have to say won’t take long.”
    I hoped his short statement wouldn’t include the words “under” and “arrest.”
    “I understand you’re working for the costume police,” Dan said.
    Oh, crap. That’s the stupid excuse I’d given those extra-large guys when I’d gone
     to question them about Jeri’s murder.
    Still, I wasn’t going to stand here and let Dan Grayson get the upper hand. I gazed
     up at him trying for a combined look of innocence and nonchalance—which would have
     been a heck of a lot easier if he didn’t have those gorgeous blue eyes—but he seemed
     totally immune.
    Damn. I hate it when that happens.
    “What were you doing questioning a suspect?” he asked. He held up his hand to silence
     me as if he thought I’d deny it, which was true but insulting just the same. “I talked
     to them both a few minutes ago. They told me you were there.”
    “What took you so long?” I asked. “I was on to that lead ages ago.”
    I’d hoped to distract him from discussing my involvement in Jeri’s investigation,
     but he wasn’t having it.
    “On the day of the murder,” Dan said, “did you see Cady Wills arrive at the catering
     company?”
    Okay, this was a totally lame thing to ask me. He knew very