Read Melissa Bourbon Ramirez - Lola Cruz 01 - Living the Vida Lola Online

Authors: Melissa Bourbon Ramirez

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Latina Detective - Romance - Sacramento

Melissa Bourbon Ramirez - Lola Cruz 01 - Living the Vida Lola (12 page)

“How do you expect to catch bad guys when you’re always the underdog without a weapon, Dolores?” He’d ignored my question, but I left it alone. Ignorance is bliss, and all that.

When I didn’t say anything, he shook his head. Neil carried. Even Sadie, who could decommission like Medusa with her porcelain gaze, had a pistol. Manny had made it clear that when I got licensed, he wanted me to carry. That was two years ago. He was still waiting.

“It’s against my principles.”

“Then you need to reconsider your principles.”

I hated to admit that he had a point. I was at a
slight
disadvantage against bad guys without a weapon. But was I willing to risk my freedom for it? I’d thought long and hard on the subject. I’d done firearms training, but I still wasn’t willing to risk shooting an innocent person—or have my own weapon used against me. I flexed my muscles, bolstering my confidence. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

“We’re not done with this discussion,” he said as he pulled into Laughlin’s parking lot.

I chose to ignore him.

“You need to wear a wire. I’ll be out here watching and listening.” He eyed me. “With a gun.”

“Well, don’t accidentally shoot me.”

Manny had one arm stretched across the bucket seats of the truck and the other slung across the steering wheel. He looked away as I worked the black wire up underneath my shirt and clipped the miniature microphone onto my bra. What a gentleman.

“How’s that?” I asked when I had it in place.

His voice was low as he trained his gaze on me. “Too obvious.”

I looked down. Yep, even from this angle I could see it. I turned my back to him, stuck my hand underneath my shirt, and worked the wire to my side. I fed it beneath the fabric of my bra, flattened my shirt against it again, and turned back. “Okay?”

“Perfecto,”
he said slowly, and I had an inkling he wasn’t talking about the wire.

He dug under his seat, handing me a pair of scratched-up handcuffs a moment later.

I dangled them from my finger. “What are these for?”

“You said all you needed was handcuffs. Here they are. Put them to good use.”

Yikes. He was thinking only about work, wasn’t he? He had Isabel to play hostage with. “I will.”

“Introduce yourself to D’Angelo,” he continued. “He’ll set you up. If you see anyone suspicious, give me a signal.
¿Entiendes?

I nodded again and got out of the truck, forcing the handcuffs into my back pocket. “Got it.” I pushed the glasses up the bridge of my nose and straightened my wig, feeling Manny’s eyes burning against my back as I walked into Laughlin’s Grocers. My head swam and I felt nauseated. Alcohol
and an empty stomach did not make a good combination for investigative work. But I was on the job, and Lola, PI always gets her man… or in this case, her nipple-shielded woman.

It didn’t take long to slip a green Laughlin’s shirt over my top and situate myself at the front of the store to pack groceries. Within an hour, my tequila buzz had worn off and I was actively studying each customer. No sign of Bonnie and Clyde, but it was still early.

Chances were they wouldn’t show anyway.

It was five fifteen, and two checkers were working the registers: an attractive blond-haired young man in his late teens or early twenties, probably a college student; and an older woman with tight iron-gray curls running up and down her head. Working back and forth between the two, I packed bags, tried not to crunch eggs or smash bread, and made polite conversation.

I kept my eyes peeled for a couple with no specific features, hair color, hairstyle, or height. Since this wasn’t a nudist market, the description I had of Bonnie’s breasts didn’t do me any good.

It took a while, but before long I found my groove, packing bags like I’d been doing it for days. “Paper or plastic?” I asked after each sale, disappointed that no one came in with their own environmentally “green” bags. Didn’t people know about global warming? Didn’t people care?

I kept an eye out for Manny every time I helped a customer to the parking lot with their groceries, but I didn’t see him. Where in the world had he hidden the macho machine? It wasn’t like you could slip the big-ass truck behind a tree. I knew he was out there somewhere. A shiver zipped down my spine—he had my back.

It was good to know someone did.

By 7:20, Sadie was still a no-show, I had no less than eleven
paper cuts on my fingers, and I’d spotted at least seven nondescript couples who could have been Bonnie and Clyde. But each had shopped, paid, and left without incident. At 7:25, another couple wound their way up and down the aisles, adding this and that to their cart. The way the woman’s eyes darted around put me on alert. Was she casing the place?

I peered at her chest.
Nada.
Her shirt was smooth. It didn’t look like any medieval jewelry lurked underneath, but I couldn’t rule out the possibility.

“Potential suspects,” I hissed into my bra, putting Manny on alert, too. There was a lull at the checkout lines, so I swept the floor in front of the registers, keeping an eye on the couple as they shopped. Another couple, two men, and a gray-haired man entered the store. Laughlin’s was steadily busy. Saturday nights in Sacramento weren’t just for dates anymore.

The couple in question approached the checkout line. “Be ready,” I whispered into my chest.

I leaned the broom up against the checkout counter, adjusted my wig, poked at my glasses, and began bagging the couple’s groceries. I peered at her front again. Perfectly smooth.

When I looked back at her face, she caught my eye and—
¡ay, Dios!
—winked at me.

I broke into a coughing frenzy and quickly walked away. Oh God, did she think I was checking her out? No, no, no! I needed to work on my subtlety.

Once my coughing was under control, I went back to the groceries, looking at the couple through my eyelashes. The woman cracked a huge come-hither smile at me as I bagged a six-pack of beer, a container of strawberries, whipped cream, a T-bone steak, and oysters from the seafood counter.

It wasn’t hard to deduce that they were going to have an aphrodisiac kind of night. Ew, had she wanted to make it a threesome?

The guy caught the look his girlfriend was giving me, grabbed the bags, and dragged her out of the store. Good. Thank God. But what, I wasn’t his type?

I pressed my hand against my forehead for a second and then turned my back to the checkers. “False alarm,” I whispered as I contemplated taking a break and having a Snickers bar.

“Hello, there, boys.” The sausage-curled checker’s giggly voice brought my attention back to the register. The next customers moved up in line.

Jack and Antonio. My jaw dropped. “What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped.

Antonio flashed a wicked grin. “Geeky. That’s a good look for you, Lola.”

“Nice. Get out of here. I’m working.” I paused and dropped my voice. “And by the way, since when do you step foot in a grocery store?”

“Since tonight. I had a hankering to see what one looked like from the inside.” He winked at me. “I need a battery for my
camera,
” he said, “so I can take some
pictures
later.”

I peered at him, my lips tight. What was he talking about? Oh! Oh, no! My pictures of Jack. I’d dug through my drawer searching for my fake glasses. Had I left the photos in
plain sight
? Had Antonio been in my room and
seen
them?

My stomach coiled. Oh shit. I couldn’t believe I’d be so stupid as to leave them lying around. Grabbing Antonio by the front of his shirt, I pulled him aside. “Did you—?” But I couldn’t even say it. What if I was just paranoid? What if he
hadn’t
seen the photos and he was just fishing?

He smacked an ultra-innocent look on his face—quite an accomplishment, considering his fearsome goatee. “Something wrong, sis?”

My blood scorched my cheeks, and I was afraid steam
might start shooting out of my ears any second. “What are you taking pictures of?” I asked as innocently as I could muster.

His grin widened. “I was thinking I’d hide somewhere and see what looks interesting. Maybe I’ll catch someone doing the nasty.” His voice dropped a decibel. “Candid shots are the best, don’t you think?”

Shit! He
had
seen them. I growled and felt my face get hotter. Dropping my voice to a harsh whisper, I demanded, “What were you doing in my room?”

He notched his head toward the check stand. “Borrowing some cash for the beer.” He stepped back into line. “I’m saving all of mine, remember?” He shot me a victorious smile. “Oh, and I guess we need to talk about that date with Reilly,” he said.

“Oh no.” I grabbed the six-pack of Corona and stuck it in a bag. “You promised.”

He turned to Jack, who’d been watching us with a look of amused curiosity. “Hey, dude, you remember that girl you dated in school. Greta—” He paused, resting a finger on his lips. “What was her last name?”

“Pritchard.” Jack grinned. “Greta Pritchard.”

“Right.” Antonio darted a look my way. “Pritchard.”

I seethed, partly at Antonio’s audacity, and partly at the look of blissful remembrance on Jack’s face. “Okay, we’ll talk,” I snapped. “Now, I’m working. Do you mind?”

Antonio paid the checker as Jack smirked. “Nice hair.” He was close enough for me to breathe in his clean outdoorsy scent. “Where’s Scooby and Shaggy?”

I knocked his arm with the back of my hand, heat from the contact sizzling up my arm. “You’re hilarious.” I gave the store another scan. All clear. Lowering my voice, I leaned closer again, hyperaware that Jack, a man I was totally hot
and bothered over, was next to me, and Manny, a man who had just put me on edge with his scrutiny and nickname, was outside listening. My only consolation was that I had finally sobered up. “I’m undercover,” I whispered. “Now go away.”

“Anything to do with the missing woman?” Jack asked.

“No. Completely different.” I scanned the store again. A gray-haired man flipped through magazines. A mom chastised one of her kids in the cereal aisle. A couple, so nondescript that I’d hardly registered them before, stood in line at the college boy’s check out. They had half the liquor department and a roasted chicken on the counter. The checker started bagging.

“Oh no!”

“What?” Antonio jabbered at me. “
Hell-o
. Earth to Lola.”

I ignored him and reached for the broom handle, edging toward college boy.

“What the—?” The young checker’s jaw dropped as Bonnie yanked up her shirt.

“Argh!” I snarled and lunged forward, brandishing my broom as if it were a light saber. I was a Jedi ready to battle. Nipple-shield woman would not get away.

My guttural bark startled Clyde midvault. His foot caught on the edge of the counter, and he tumbled over. The bottles slipped off the edge and crashed to the ground, exploding in a spray of vodka and rum, beer and gin. The chicken came undone from its plastic container and slithered, belly down, across the floor.

Bonnie spun to face me, and I cranked my saber-broom around, bristles poking toward her. My eyes bugged when I saw the bull’s-eye target that doubled as her right breast. Holy shit! I stopped and stared, hypnotized. It was working on me.

I blinked, breaking the trance. Lunging forward, I jabbed the prickly end of the broom at her. Antonio and Jack rushed past me toward Clyde, and the next second, the three of them
slipped in the puddle of alcohol. They sprawled on the floor and spun on their backs like they were break dancing. Antonio and Jack rolled onto their stomachs and clamored to hold on to Clyde, all the while trying to avoid the glass shards that littered the floor.

I couldn’t do a thing to help them.

I wheeled back around to see Bonnie pulling her shirt down and starting for the exit. Shit! Where was Manny?

Oh my God. I hadn’t alerted him. “It’s them. They’re here. Nine-one-one!” I plucked my shirt out and rasped into my bra as I flung the broom down and ran after her. “Backup, Manny.
Bingo!

I chased after Bonnie into the parking lot and saw Manny racing across the asphalt toward us. Bonnie tried to sidestep around him, but we sandwiched her. I grabbed her by the arm just as she flashed again, her bazookas aimed right at Manny. My grip spun her, but she yanked free and went flying, tripping over her own feet and sliding across the pavement.

Manny dived after her and deftly maneuvered her arms behind her back. He yanked her up, and even as her shirt flew open, he ripped a pair of handcuffs from his belt and snapped them on her.

Damn. My handcuffs were still safely in my pocket. Maybe I wasn’t completely sober.

Thin threads of blood surfaced on the abrasions that ran down her chest. I cringed when I saw her nipple shield dangling and made an
X
with my arms across my breasts. ¡
Dios mío!
That had to hurt.

Bonnie kicked at Manny. “Let go!” she shrieked.

“Not a chance.” He took her by the shoulder. “Nice mutilation.” His expression never changed.

She spit at his face.

He spun her around just as Antonio and Jack stumbled
across the parking lot, each of them holding one of Clyde’s wrists. They stopped dead in their tracks, eyes rooted to Bonnie’s chest.

“Oh, come on.” I waved my hand in front of their faces before yanking Bonnie’s shirt back into place. “I know for a fact that you’ve both seen breasts before.”

“Not like those,” Antonio said, way too much appreciation in his voice.

Clyde kicked at them, cursing.

As Jack stepped sideways, stretching out to avoid his flailing prisoner, Bonnie looked at him, flicked her tongue out between her lips like a lizard, and shimmied. “Want some of this, big boy?”

Oh, the nerve. As if.

“Thanks, but you’re not my type,” Jack said.

Good answer. But it left me wondering what
was
his type.

“Try it, you might like it,” Bonnie said with another wag of her tongue.

“Shut your mouth,” Manny said, jerking Bonnie and then passing her over to me. I took hold of her by the handcuffs while Manny flipped his cell phone open and called the police. We waited in awkward silence until they came to take away the grocery store bandits. Case closed.

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