Killer Blonde by Laura Levine Read Free Book Online Page A

I thought about it, I was almost certain it was Aramis. Was it possible that Larkspur was having a thing with Brad? Had he dashed home from school for some extracurricular activity with his mother’s masseuse?
    “So, Larkspur,” I said. “How’s it going?”
    “Oh, super,” she said, a nervous smile plastered on her face. “Just super.” Then she looked at her watch, and pretended to be surprised. “Wow. Would you look at the time. I’m late for my next appointment. Gotta run.”
    And that she did, like a scared rabbit, down the hallway, her masseuse’s table clunking against her thighs.
    I stared at the door to the room she’d just come out of, debating whether or not to open it.
    Don’t be a fool, Sensible Me said. Brad could have you fired.
    So what? said Nutcase Me. I don’t like this crummy job anyway.
    This went on for a minute or two, Sensible Me arguing with Nutcase Me. In the end, as she always does, the Nutcase won.
    I opened the door. Just a few inches, enough for me to peek inside. The room, undoubtedly once a bedroom, had been converted into a home gym. Loaded with big-ticket exercise equipment. But the most important thing about the room, as far as I was concerned, was the floor-to-ceiling mirror covering one of the walls. Because that’s where I saw the reflection of Larkspur’s lover hiding behind a stairmaster, zipping his fly.
    And no, it wasn’t Brad.
    It was his father, Hal.
     

    Hoping Hal hadn’t seen me in the mirror, I sped down the hallway to SueEllen’s bathroom. I scurried inside and was surprised to see the tub was empty. SueEllen had abandoned her perch in her marble throne, and was taking a shower. I could see the foggy outline of her fabulous body getting sprayed from all sides by multiple shower jets.
    “Hi, SueEllen,” I called out.
    She popped her head out the shower door, her hair caught up in a terrycloth turban.
    “Oh, hi, Jaine. We won’t be working in the bathroom today.”
    If my tush could talk, it would have shouted Hallelujah.
    “We’re going shopping. You can take notes in the car.”
    I had no idea what SueEllen was going shopping for. But I knew one thing she needed: a new masseuse.
     

    There are families in El Salvador who live in houses smaller than SueEllen’s Bentley.
    I sat in the front seat with her, as she navigated the hundred-thousand-dollar tub over to Heidi’s school.
    “I’m throwing Heidi a party for her birthday tomorrow night,” SueEllen explained, “and we need to buy her a dress. By the way, I hope you can come to the party. Poor thing has no friends.”
    She sighed, a weak imitation of someone feeling sympathy.
    “Of course,” she added, “it’s no surprise Heidi’s so unpopular, given the way she looks.”
    “What’s wrong with the way she looks?”
    SueEllen laughed. “Have you got a couple of hours?”
    “No, really, SueEllen. She looks fine to me.”
    SueEllen gave me the once over, taking in my unruly mop of hair, my generous thighs, and my elastic waist jeans.
    “I suppose she would look fine to you.”
    Ouch.
    “But to a kid her own age, she’s got loser written all over her. Anyhow, she seems to like you. So how about it? Will you come to the party?”
    “Of course. I’d be happy to.”
    “Marvelous, and if we’re short on waitresses, you won’t mind giving a hand, will you?”
    Argggh. What an aggravating woman.
    “Sure,” I said, through gritted teeth.
    “I’m glad that’s settled. Let’s get back to the book, shall we?”
    I took out my steno pad, ready for action.
    “I’ve got the most marvelous recipe for pot au feu,” SueEllen gushed. “Actually, I got it out of a Julia Child cookbook, but we’ll just change a few ingredients and no one will know the difference.”
    As she rattled on about Julia’s pot au feu, my mind wandered back to the scene in the gym. So Hal Kingsley was having an affair with Larkspur. Frankly, I didn’t blame him. Making love to SueEllen would be like mating with