Waking up next to a dead guy can ruin your whole day. When a wise-cracking interior decorator wants to put her past behind her, the dead body of the mayor’s son makes her realize that won’t happen too easily. A conservative former computer geek for the FBI is holding on too tightly to his past. His wife died under suspicious circumstances and he believes the decorator has the information to solve the case. Unfortunately for him, she isn’t speaking until a series of events convinces her she needs protection especially when her biggest secret threatens to destroy both of their lives.
Waking up next to a dead guy can ruin your whole day.
At least interior decorator Miriam Stokes’ thought so.
The Philadelphia Police Detective whose name she couldn’t remember talked soothingly to her, making her feel, not better, but at least calmer.
As calm as anyone could feel after finding a dead body. How did she get herself into these things?
Sipping coffee Miriam didn’t remember asking for, she eyed the cop as they sat in a flowered living room. The owner of said living rooms was a neighbor of Miriam’s friend Joe.
The friend she just found dead.
She tried to keep eye contact with Detective . . . Dasher? She knew his name was a reindeer.
Her vision was only just returning to normal.
“So you woke up and he was dead. Didn’t you hear a shot?” The cop asked.
After swallowing the scalding liquid, she answered him. “No detective. I do sleep very soundly, but I think I had help from this bump on the side of my head.”
To indicate the reason, she pulled away the bag of ice that had appeared sometime after the first patrolman. The lump began to throb, but he only glanced at her head. He scribbled some notes in a small pad.
How many murders does one have to see to get so matter-of-fact about it? Miriam shuddered.
“Would it be possible for me to at least get dressed? I feel a little vulnerable in my pajamas,” she told him.
Donner, that was name. He looked her over as if making a decision. He nodded, glancing around the apartment. “Do you have any clothes?”
She nodded towards Joe’s apartment.
“When they remove . . . ” he murmured, then grimaced. She caught his meaning.
He turned his brown eyes back to her. “We’ll work it out. I just have a few more questions for you. Then we’ll go downtown.”
Miriam nodded. Who would do this to Joe?
“How long have you known the deceased?” Donner asked.
She let the hand holding the ice fall while the other hand rested her coffee on the table. She massaged her right temple. The hushed voices of cops in the hallway wafted past her. She wondered of she would ever get the blood smell out of her nose.
“Five years,” she murmured. She blinked then stared past the detective.
“Ms. Stokes?” He came into her view and she shook her head. “I think we need to finish this downtown. They’re going to take the deceased away.”