Apples, Appaloosa and Alibis by Maria Swan (feel good novels TXT) 📕

“Wait, is she the dead woman at the Dumonts’ house?” I didn’t like the glee in her eyes, I quickly added, “Kassandra told me. She said it was on the news.”

“What did you do with the other half of the business card?” Apparently she was here to ask questions, not to provide answers.

“Oh, that. I think it’s in one of my purses,” I lied, I only had one good purse.

“I’m going to need that. Now. Do you want to check your purse? Should we drive to your house? What did it say on the card?” Her adrenaline must have been pumping at full speed. I think even her cheek gained some rosy color. I got up.

“Where are you going?” She stood.

“To check my purse.” Calling her a b***h had been an understatement.

I headed toward my cubicle with Detective Reid on my heels.

I couldn’t believe how calm I felt. Any minute now I’d be coming unglued. If only Tristan had called and put me up to date. To date about what?

I picked up my purse from under the chair and sat it on my tiny desk.

“You store your purse with your personal belongings under a chair?” Ah, the disapproval in the detective’s voice.

“Yes, Mommy Dearest.” I couldn’t help it.

If looks could kill. And the little frown between her eyes deepened. How come I had never noticed that before? Probably because it was my first time alone with her, and hopefully my last. Ms. Reid wasn’t fun at all. I sensed the little wheels churning in her brain as if that would get me to dig in the purse a little faster... ah. Then I remembered—it was in my wallet, because I had planned on giving it to Tristan at the airport. I pulled it out.

The detective snatched it from my fingers before I had a chance to say a word.

She laid my half next to the one in the envelope, on top of the plastic cover, sliding the edges as close as possible. It was an obvious match. Only then did she actually turn the card over, carefully, with the tips of her fingers. She looked at the card with the scribbled phone number and the message then looked at me. Did that a few times. Finally she pulled out a new, empty plastic envelope and slid my half of the card inside. Both envelopes disappeared into the folder. She gifted me another long look.

“Thanks, for now. I must get back to the office, but we will need to talk to you about this.” We, I assumed included Ryan Ross, her partner. I still liked Adam and Eve better.

I put my wallet back in my purse and was going to walk over to Kassandra’s desk when—bam—Detective Liz Reid was back. “By the way, do you remember what day it was when you met Silvia De Aguilar at the Dumonts’ residence?”

“Huh, Tuesday? Yeah, it had to be Tuesday because Wednesday I was at the office in the morning, it was my turn to take calls—”

“This past Tuesday?” she rudely interrupted me.

I nodded and once again she took off like the building was on fire. What a stupid woman. She never asked me if I spoke to Angelique or Tristan about it. She would, at some point, when she remembered she’s a detective. Well, not my problem. I went to talk to Kassandra.

By now, Scott and his tablet had left the building, and something nagged me to no end—something called guilt, one of my specialties, guilt for not giving the ripped business card to Tristan. No excuses. It was meant for him. And I would have if not for Jessie’s impromptu appearance. Now it was too late, and the stranger, the poor woman named Silvia, was dead. Whatever she needed to say to Tristan regarding his father, she took with her.

I watched Kassandra on the phone; she looked—excited? When she noticed me she gave me a thumb up. Huh? She didn’t say who it was, just motioned me to answer the phone, not my cell, the office landline. All the rolling of eyes I gave her didn’t help. I rushed back to my cubicle, my heart thumping to the beat of Tristan, Tristan, Tristan. I picked up the phone and... Greg Coste’s sexy voice said, “Good morning, Monica, are we ready to put together an offer?”

“I am if you are,” I said, forcing myself to delete my cry for Tristan and grabbed my pen and notepad instead.

Mr. Coste—call me Greg-—had done his homework and knew exactly what he wanted to offer, but being practical, had left room for negotiations. Thanks to our computers we would complete the paperwork with the help of digital signatures. Even so, with a ten-page contract and about five other minor but equally important documents to complete, I told him I would be sending over the ready-to-sign package in about an hour. What I didn’t tell him was that I had never done all this by myself. Either Kay Lewis or Sunny were there to assist me with every previous contract I worked on. Today I was all alone. Fingers crossed.

In a way it was a blessing. It would keep me from obsessing over Tristan and Detective Reid. I fully expected the detective to show up or call me and order me to her office... or else. She would, just as soon as she figured out she had never asked me who I had told about the ripped business card. But for now... my time and my brain were at Mr. Coste’s service.

Working was good for me. I had to stay focused so as not to screw up the contract. Lucky for me, Greg Coste had emailed a copy of his bank letter showing his available funds, so I had his legal name with the correct spelling and middle initial as well as his mailing address. However, I only typed with two fingers, sort of an inside joke around the office. Lunchtime came