Mint Cookie Murder by Leslie Langtry Page B

out of her back pocket and handed it to me. "Here's my number if you need anything."
    "The code to the keypad would be awesome," I said with a smile.
    She shook her head. Every silky strand of hair fell automatically back into place. "Sorry. I'm under orders. But if you need any help with the computer, I'm kind of a whiz at that."
    "Why didn't you try out for the virtual intelligence department at Langley? They need people like that. I always seemed to work with idiots there." That was true. Don't get me wrong, most of the staff were geniuses, but I often got the guys who still worked in WordPerfect and thought a loop was the coolest thing you could make.
    Suzanne gave me a tiny, smug smile. "I just don't think it would've worked out. I'm happier here in WT." And with that, she turned on her heel and left.
    Who the hell was happier in Who's There? I was only here because I was in hiding. The only charms this town had were the Big Butter Chautauqua and Pork of July. And even those things were just what you'd think they were. The Chautauqua featured every kind of butter you could eat—including deep fried stick of butter on a stick, and the annual Pork of July festival crowned the Pork Princess and Pork Queen every year next to the ever-popular Jell-O Iowa sculpting contest.
    Kelly produced a box of donuts and a cup of hot tea. I sat down and started eating. Philby came over and sniffed the donuts hopefully. But Kelly pulled a can of cat food out of her bag and opened it, setting it on the floor. The ground seemed to tremble a little when he leaped down. He tore into the shredded meat as if he were killing it himself.
    "So, what's got you locked in?" Kelly asked as I finished off my fourth chocolate donut.
    I filled her in on the video and showed her the image on the computer. She sat quietly for a moment.
    "So, when you said you couldn't go with me to my nephew's birthday party last week, you were really in Colorado?"
    "That's not funny. I wasn't in Colorado, and you know it. And I really was busy. If you must know, I was shopping for curtains."
    Kelly arched an eyebrow. This had been a point of contention for a long time now. Mainly because some people thought it was stupid that I had Dora the Explorer sheets as my drapes.
    "Where?" she asked.
    "You don't really believe I was meeting a criminal at a supermax…?" I asked.
    "Where? Where were you shopping for curtains?"
    "Interiors by Inez," I answered. "I was asking her how to measure windows, and she was showing me some fabrics I thought would match my green couch."
    Kelly smiled. "You know I can check up to see if you're lying."
    I nodded. "I know. But I also can't believe you'd entertain the thought for one second that I was really out of state." I was getting pissed. But then, Kelly knew when I was mad before I did most of the time.
    She started laughing. "You should see your face! I know you weren't there! It's so obvious that the woman on the monitor isn't you!" She collapsed in a fit of giggles that I would've found offensive had I not been so relieved that not only did she believe me, but she could prove somehow that wasn't me on the video.
    "Why isn't it me?" I asked.
    Kelly replayed the video. She paused it as the "me" on film looked at the camera. "Earrings. Her ears are pierced. Yours aren't."
    I squinted at the screen. It was hard to see at first, but the woman on film had double piercings on both earlobes with a large hoop earring in each one.
    "Huh." I traced the hoops with my finger. "Why didn't I think of that?"
    Kelly sighed. "Just how did you get through all those assignments without me, anyway?"
    I shook my head. "I've got no idea. But I can't wait to show this to Riley. I've never had pierced ears—so that should clear that up."
    "What it doesn't clear up is why that woman impersonated you," Kelly said.
    "I don't care about that as much as I care about getting the hell out of here. Do you have your car?" I asked.
    Kelly nodded. "I'm supposed to let