Cat In A Sapphire Slipper

“Later, she’d changed to palazzo pants. I’m betting she had them in the trunk and changed stockings for pants right then. Did she spot the fake driver then and go along with whatever story he was handing out . . . he was part of the prank, say? I’m betting he was inspired to grab her stockings as a murder weapon after she left the vehicle. It would keep her quiet afterward about what would look like complicity in the murder, wouldn’t it?”

“That it would.” Bucek eyed the girlfriends.

“The African-American woman with platinum-blond hair.”

He nodded. “We’ll be discreet about cutting her out from the herd when we do our interrogation at the LVMPD. Who’s the unlucky boyfriend?”

“Ralph, the second youngest. Another thing. Asiah told me she was totally uninterested in marrying her Fontana boyfriend, that she was along for the ride for the thrill of it.”

Bucek nodded.

“She’s a showgirl. She has a curtain time tonight too.”

He glanced at Matt. “She doesn’t have friends in high places. She’ll miss her high kicks tonight, and for a lotta nights. Thanks. Listen to Matt on that ankle. Maybe you’ll stay out of trouble for a while.”

“Amen,” Matt said.

Farewell, My Lovely

“Keep in touch. Phone sex is a favorite sideline around here,” Miss Satin notes from her position on the floor by the door.

I am about to be hustled back to town, along with Midnight Louise and Ma Barker, in the Rover with the Misses Von Rhine, Barr, Carlson, and Lark.

Usually I consider being the only male among a passel of devoted females as my birthright, but this feels like I am being shuffled away from the best parts of crime and punishment. Like grilling the suspect.

“Phone sex is not what I consider ‘keeping in touch.’ ” My vibrissae plays footsie with her vibrissae.

“Maybe I can visit you in Vegas sometime. I kind of bonded with your family.”

“Maybe by then I will have the details about our joint collar. I expect my Miss Temple will not rest that ankle until she knows the who, what, when, and why of all this. I am glad to have encountered you again, however briefly. And I am glad that we were all able to bring matters here to a conclusion, to an end, to a climax, so to speak.”

“Forget it, Louie. I am done with that nonsense.”

“Nonsense!”

“You should forget your romantic aspirations and worry about your roommate getting off scot-free. That body upstairs is ripening by the minute, and the trouble your associates could get into with the officials is getting stinkier by the second.”

“Yeah, but us nailing the perp should banish any bad odor that might cling to my associates.”

“Us?”

“You, me, Ma Barker, and the number one daughter.”

“I thought you said Midnight Louise was someone else’s baby.”

“Probably is, but now that she thinks she has found mommy dearest, who am I to disillusion a pathetic orphan? Would you want to?”

“Midnight Louise does not strike me as pathetic. In fact, in some ways she is more worldly than you, Louie! This is all that remains of my one and only litter?”

“What do you mean, one and only?” I ask with bated fish breath.

“My ladies are very conscientious about birth control. I have been fixed.”

“No! You still waft the tempting perfume of a lady who can work up a heat storm now and then.”

“Dream on, Louie. I, for one, am pleased to know that none of my darling babies are out on the byways facing horrible dangers.”

“Well, I am out and about, and I face plenty of danger in my job.”

“That is different. You always were a scrapper. I think you were born with a silver can opener in your mouth. Certainly you have a silver tongue, and have seduced your human into lifelong devotion. Not all of us are that fortunate. Look at your own mother.”

“Ma Barker runs a street gang, not a small achievement at her age.”

“Come on. She has mentioned the posh ‘retirement home’ you are setting up for her and her gang. You know she is too old for the streets.”

“But I am not.”

Satin shrugs her slim shoulders under the turquoise cape, which sets the marabou feather trim in vibrant motion. She is not fixed enough for me!

“I would like to visit this Circle Ritz retirement home sometime. I do not intend to go out with my sapphire slippers on in a bordello. I might want to invest in the right property.”

Hubba, hubba, hormones! If the well-seasoned Miss Kit Carlson can get inspired by the right dude, perhaps Satin is not a lost cause. I live to defy the odds.

Traveling Music

The hay was fresh and frothy. Clean-cut.

He awoke breathing unrecycled air, hearing birds chattering, and a meadowlark uncorking an aria. All he needed was the Disney mice wrapping his withered legs with elastic bandages.

The illusion shattered as he realized he needed to piss, badly, and was in no shape to get himself up, hobble off, and do it. Pink and puckered indeed.

As he looked around, he saw he was alone. He could manage a discreet shift to the side. Then use his ass and elbows to move far away.

Thriller films never dealt with the ugly realities.