Page 11 of Stilettos & Secrets on the 7 Seas

My phone was dead.

Damn.

Four

Ihustled into the house in search of a charger. Gertie met me at the door. Her red hair was twisted into a perfect bun and she wore a cute flirty dress with kitten heels.

“Hallelujah! You’re home and already dressed for the wedding.” She took a minute to examine my dress. “That dress reminds me of my mee-maw.”

My shoulders slumped. “It has pockets.”

“No matter. We’ll be walkin’ down the aisle after the bride if we don’t leave right now.” She gathered her purse and phone from the kitchen table.

“I need to get my?—”

“You need nothin’ but this.” She shoved a box wrapped in silver sparkling paper into my hands. “I wrapped the gift and put both our names on it.”

“I have to?—”

She pushed me outside and whipped a set of keys out of her purse. “Get in the car. I’ll drive.”

“Wait. I need a charger. My phone’s dead.”

“I’ve got one in the car.”

I sighed, slipped into her red BMW convertible, and snapped on my seatbelt.

She jerked the gear shift into R, did a spectacular head-slamming-into-the-headrest reverse out of the carport, and peeled rubber out of the alley.

“Charger?” I held up my dead phone.

“Glove compartment.”

I pulled out three expired insurance cards, a small umbrella, a roll of mints, six pizza coupons, and a wad of restaurant napkins before staring at a 357 Magnum. “Gertie, there’s a gun in here.”

“A girl’s got to be prepared.”

“I don’t see the charger.”

“Did you look under the gun?”

I held the gun between my thumb and index finger. I should feel more at home holding a gun. I’d had many, many lessons in the gun range at headquarters, but I was somewhat skittish about leaving my prints on Gertie’s gun.

“Gertie, there’s no charger.”

“Huh?” She glanced over at the empty glove compartment. “I swear. Cousin Darryl borrowed it the other day. Guess he didn’t put it back.”

I gently returned the gun, then shoved everything else back into the small space. “Can I borrow your phone?”

“Sure.” Her large Consuela bag took up the smidge of space between the seats. I dug around inside it. Hairspray, wallet, cosmetic bag, hand sanitizer, pack of gum, notebook, pen, Skittles, multi-phase taser, movie ticket, package of Kleenex and thirty-five cents in loose change.

“Gertie, your phone isn’t in here.”

She glanced over at the purse and wrinkled her freckled nose. “Are you sure?”

“Your purse is the size of the Grand Canyon, but I can’t find it.”

“Dammit. I must have set it down when I picked up the gift.”

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