Killer Heels Read Online Free PDF Page A

little wretch was trying to claw its way back out. Somehow, I’d become Sigourney Weaver in Alien , dreaming of monsters exploding out of my chest. Thinking about the movie for a minute actually distracted me from the pain. That, and imagining myself with Sigourney Weaver’s cheekbones. But it only helped for a minute.
    “Scream,” Cassady suggested.
    “Excuse me?”
    “Scream. A great, big, deep one. From your toes.” I hesitated and Cassady gestured around us. “Come on. This is Manhattan. Unless you scream more than once or scream ‘Fire,’ you’re not going to bother anyone. And you’ll feel much better afterwards.”
    The nasty creature was about to rupture my sternum from the inside out, so I decided to give it a shot. I took a deep breath, rocked up on my stockinged toes a bit, and screamed. The force of the scream ripped that little sucker right out of his nest and blew him about two blocks away. It was raw and uncomfortable where he’d been digging, but Cassady was right. I did feel better.
    I wasn’t sure about Cassady, though. She was looking at me with this odd mixture of respect and fear. I think she’d been expecting something a little closer to my mild sound of concern from upstairs. “Wow,” she said finally and stepped to the curb to hail a cab. “Want to call your therapist now or wait till morning?”
    “I’m better. I’m okay.” I really was better and the okay thing was going to be a matter of time. I knew that. There was still a disconnected quality to everything that had happened and it was going to be a while before I got it all sorted out. But then again, I’m not sure I want to be the kind of person who can see a dead body and take it in stride.
    Now, in the bar with Cassady and Tricia, the creature was trying to worm its way back into its nest. I thought about screaming again and decided it would draw a little more attention in this setting. I settled for another deep breath, trying to get my glass to my mouth without spilling, while picturing great cheekbones.
    “Cassady, how are you doing? You experienced this horror, too.” Tricia moved her stool so it was directly between Cassady and me.
    “Thanks, but this is Molly’s deal. She’s the one who knew him and she’s the one who lost the shoes.”
    “Still.” Tricia climbed up onto her stool. Tricia’s the small, delicate one in our trio. Too tall for gymnastics, too short to model, was her mournful cry in college. Not that she was really committed to either field. She’s always been a behind-the-scenes type, and her impulse for orchestrating people’s lives keeps the two of us on our toes. Tricia’s quiet, but she’s cunning, and you can find yourself talked into anything from a blind date to a charity pledge before you realize what she’s done to you.
    “What are you drinking?” Tricia asked me, more like a nurse taking a medical history than a friend trying to decide what to have herself.
    “A lemon drop.”
    “I ordered champagne. You know that’ll make her sleep,” Cassady said.
    Tricia snapped her head in a tight little move that made her chestnut hair skate on her shoulders. “Where’s the waitress ?”
    “Why?” Cassady asked, sensing dissent.
    “She needs a brandy alexander.”
    “Why?” Cassady repeated, this time sounding a little offended.
    “Because they don’t serve Häagen-Dazs here.”
    “You think she should have ice cream? She found a body, she didn’t have her tonsils out, Tricia.”
    Usually, at this point in a conversation about me, I would try to speak up for myself, but I found, at the moment, that I had neither the energy nor the desire to do so. I was grateful that I had such good friends who were willing to debate the best way to get me back on my feet. Or get me falling-down drunk, whichever would be more beneficial in the long run. I just needed to be sure that I had gotten Tricia’s shoes on and successfully navigated all the little straps before I got too