Homicide in High Heels
“"I'm sorry, you want what?" Ramirez took a long swig of beer, his features pinched as if it pained him to say it. "I want your help." I couldn't suppress the goofy grin spreading across my face. Since we'd met, I'd had the misfortune to get involved in several of Ramirez's cases. While it had always been through no fault of my own, Ramirez had fought me every step of the way—asking me to back off, demanding I back off, even pleading once or twice that I leave his cases alone. So to hear him act...ually asking for my help was like I'd entered a parallel universe.
One I was going to enjoy as long as it lasted.
"Wipe that goofy grin off your face, Springer," he told me.
"Sorry." I tried, suppressing it to a mild smirk.
"Look, while I'm on suspension, I've been warned away from any contact with anyone who even remotely has ties to the Stars ball club." "But I'm sure the captain has other detectives on the case, right?" I asked.
Ramirez sighed again, doing more hair mussing. "Right. Laurel and Hardy." "Oh, they can't be that bad." "No, those are their names.MoreLess
One I was going to enjoy as long as it lasted.
"Wipe that goofy grin off your face, Springer," he told me.
"Sorry." I tried, suppressing it to a mild smirk.
"Look, while I'm on suspension, I've been warned away from any contact with anyone who even remotely has ties to the Stars ball club." "But I'm sure the captain has other detectives on the case, right?" I asked.
Ramirez sighed again, doing more hair mussing. "Right. Laurel and Hardy." "Oh, they can't be that bad." "No, those are their names.MoreLess
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