After the office, I searched her bathroom. You could tell a lot about someone by her bathroom. What I learned about Bliss was that she was a slob, and if there was ever a shampoo shortage, I knew where to go. The woman had at least a dozen different bottles.
“We need, more, Chi-Chi,” I said, moving to her bedroom.
The Chihuahua jumped up on the bed and gave a big yawn. Yeah, I knew it wasn’t her problem.
I checked my watch. I’d been in here for an hour. We had to pick up the pace. “Okay, Chi-Chi, where would I hide something I didn’t want anyone to find?”
My eyes settled on the walk-in bedroom closet, with its door hanging open and clothes littering the floor. I ignored them, and the endless shelves and teak wood racks. Instead, I walked to the very back of the closet. It was stacked with shoeboxes. They were perfectly dusted, but older. I could tell by their slightly caved-in lids. And so I went through boxes. I saw blue heels and gold heels and enough heels to make my own feet ache. Until I opened a box and found row upon row of pill bottles.
Excitement zinged through me. This was what I’d been looking for. I knew it before I even knew what it was.
None of the bottles had prescription labels. Instead, they were marked with expiration dates written in black Sharpie and tiny brand labels—Slimprol.
I popped open a bottle and discovered sparkly blue tablets about the size of aspirin.
Slimprol. I’d never heard of it. Of course that didn’t mean anything. I kept myself fit without this junk. Still, if this was legal, it wouldn’t be stuffed in the back of a closet.
It killed me not to take a sample, but I didn’t want to rouse suspicions—not until I knew what we were dealing with.
Instead, I found a pen and began a complete inventory of the box, including expiration dates and pill volume. Well, until Chi-Chi shot off the bed barking.
Yip-yip-yip!
Her barks grew fainter as I heard the front door open.
Bliss was home!
Yip-yip-yip!
I was trapped!
Yip-yip-yip!
Hands shaking, I made sure there was no trace of my presence, then dashed for the window. I threw open the curtains and found an ornate wooden grate.
“What the—?”
I tried to shove it back, but it wouldn’t budge.
Yip-yip-yip! Chi-Chi’s barking grew closer. Bliss could probably smell me. She was tracking me!
Calm down. I had to think.
At least she didn’t know who I was—yet.
I attacked the grate and felt it start to give. I’d rip it off the hinges before I got trapped in here with a tiger.
“Bliss!” Tia called from the front of the house. “I’m so glad you’re back. I need to talk to you.”
I heard a low growl from the hallway.
“Bliss.” Tia was inside the house. “It’s important.”
“Not now, Tia,” Bliss said, her voice throaty.
“But”—Tia’s voice cracked—“you put me in charge of planning the midnight golf scramble and I know we’re having it at the country club, but we never did decide if the men were going to take golf carts. I know that vampire you’re dating likes to levitate.”
“Don’t you dare talk about who I’m dating,” Bliss roared.
“I won’t,” Tia squeaked. “I can’t. You never told me. Anyhow, we really need to decide on the carts or else we might not get enough or even the ones we want and ...”
I could feel Bliss losing patience as I renewed my struggle with the grate.
Forget it. It wasn’t budging. I hoped Tia had drawn Bliss far enough away from the back hallway. I had one shot at escaping.
I darted out into the hall, ready to be bowled over. But it was empty. Hallelujah! I dashed out the way I’d come in—down the hall, through the kitchen. I thought I spotted a glimpse of yellow as I darted past an area exposed to the front door, but I didn’t hesitate. In fact, I didn’t stop until I was back home with the door locked behind me.
CHAPTER 7
I tossed a ThighMaster out of my closet, followed by a pair of wedge sandals and a paraffin wax hand-dipping kit.
“Ow!” Vinny protested behind me, rubbing his forehead.
Oh, come on. I couldn’t have hit him that hard. Besides, we had bigger problems. “Where are my heels?” I groused. “The ones with the green stickers?”
Tia’s dress-to-shoes color-coding system was no good if I couldn’t keep my new wardrobe straight.
Vinny massaged his head in a clearly dramatic attempt to make me feel like a crazy woman. “I don’t care where your green stickers are. I came up here to tell you Lucien is making a call. After that, he needs you downstairs.”
“Help me look.” The closet was a mess. I’d never had this much junk before. “Turn yourself into Martha Stewart or something.”
“Not for all the tea in China, babe.”
Oh yeah, now he gets picky.
We were due at Nina’s dinner party and I’d underestimated the time it took to get tweezed and sprayed and polished for the evening.
It had never taken me more than five minutes in the past.
Truth be told, I’d had a hard time tearing myself from the computer. I’d been online, investigating Slimprol. Not that it did any good. I couldn’t find any mention of the drug, much less what it did—or why Bliss would hide it.
Lucien said he’d put the Vampire Council research department on the job. I’d try to question Bliss at the party. Although I’d rather use my resources to ask questions about Sunny’s murder.
Finding the killer was my main priority. We had tonight. Tomorrow at dusk would be the full moon, which would be the end of our investigation, and the beginning of a war.
Vinny shoved the ThighMaster back into the closet and right in my way.
Say ... I turned to him. “You have an ‘in’ with Bliss.”
I tossed the ThighMaster out of the closet before I tripped over the thing.
Vinny simply stared at me.
Honestly, the man was causing more problems than he solved.
Did I have to spell it out?
“Think you can romance me the 411 on Slimprol?” I asked.
“You’re the one who gets them to spill the truth, sweetheart,” he said, shoving the ThighMaster onto an upper shelf. “I’m just your eyes and ears.”
“Oh, so now you stick to your job.” Men. I’d never understand them. I stared up at the hinged contraption that was now threatening to smack me on the head. “What’s that thing doing in here anyway? I didn’t buy it.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, deliberately avoiding the subject.
Vinny began digging through my pile of shoes. “Wear these.” He held out a pair of brown flats that most certainly did not go with my slinky black dress.
See? I was getting better.
Granted, Tia had forced me to buy a lot of beauty gadgets, but, “if I didn’t buy it and you didn’t buy it and—”
“I can’t keep it in my closet, okay?” he said, tossing the flats and shoving a pair of gold strappy sandals at me.
“Hey, green stickers. Thanks.” Then it occurred to me. “Why do you have a ThighMaster?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he grumbled, retreating from the closet. “Just leave it in here.”
I perked up. “You don’t want Lucien to know you have a ThighMaster.”
Hidden in plain sight.
Vinny didn’t share my amusement. He rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “I told you to can it.”
I gave him the once-over. Okay, so maybe Vinny in his natural state had a few jiggly spots, but it wasn’t like he needed to “squeeze his way to fitness.”
His nostrils flared and I swear his eyebrow ring even jingled a bit.
“I’ll take it to the grave,” I said, carrying my heels to the bed so I could sit and fasten them. “It might happen soon, too, considering Bliss is about to tear me apart.”
She had to have smelled me in her house. Once she locked on to my scent tonight, I’d be toast.
A part of me was actually relieved. I liked confrontations. I’d rather know where I stood than sneak around waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“I’ve got your back,” he assured me.
“What? Are you a waiter tonight?”
“Better. That’s another reason I came up to talk to you.” He’d propped an elaborate curved sword against my nightstand. “Lucien thought you’d enjoy seeing this. It’s from his private collection.”
“Lucien likes knives?” I loved blades.
“You two have a lot more in common than you think.”
“I don’t want to hear it from you.”
“It needed to be said,” he stated. “Anyhow, I’m acting like scenery tonight. Sadly, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to be live sculpture art during a vampire party.”
“That is so pretentious.”
He shrugged. “I meet a lot of people in my line of work. Some act like God’s gift because they can put on a show.” There was that meaningful look again. “Others are full of themselves because they don’t.”
