Not One Clue Read Online Free PDF

did she say?”
    “Mamá?”
    “Yeah.”
    “She said you’re a nut job.”
    “It wasn’t her, was it?” I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Really, I don’t. I’m not usually the jealous type. The nutty type, yes. The horny type, absolutely. The weird, “I want to sleep with you but I won’t” type. But not the jealous type.
    He cursed again. He was getting more inventive. Which, in my own warped brain, made me think he probably was hiding something. Still, maybe it’s not my fault that I’m warped. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve dated approximately seventy-eight guys, most of whom were certified whackos.
    “Listen, Rivera. It’s not as if we swore to be exclusive or—”
    “She said you told her all you wanted was a man who wouldn’t wear your underwear.”
    I closed my mouth, closed my eyes, momentarily wished I had been born mute. Because, actually, I had told Rosita Rivera just that. In fact, I had said a whole lot of embarrassing things. A long time had passed since then, but some evenings are more memorable than others.
    I rubbed my eyes but didn’t entirely give up on my line of questioning. Better to sound jealous than nuts. “She told you that last night?”
    “You think I wouldn’t have mentioned it sooner if I had heard it before?”
    Good point. Valid point. “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just—”
    “An idiot?”
    I nodded a little. It was entirely possible, but I wasn’t about to admit as much out loud. He already knew I had been discussing underwear with his mother. How much ammo did the man need?
    “Do you want to be dead? Is that it?” he asked.
    “A client called,” I said. “He was—”
    “Michael Goldenstone.”
    “Micky. Yes. He asked me to meet him in Glendale.”
    “Why?”
    “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to divulge that sort of information about my client.”
    “Are you fucking serious?”
    Kind of. “Suffice it to say, the situation was defused and—”
    “By tackling a woman with a gun!”
    Oh. So he had heard that. Kind of heroic, really. He should be proud. He didn’t sound proud. He sounded pissed enough to pee tacks.
    “No one got hurt.”
    “Besides the guy in the ER.”
    “Which happened before I arrived,” I reminded him. It was something of a feather in my hat, I thought. Generally, when people get shot, I’m Johnny-on-the-spot. Things were looking up.
    “So you thought it a grand idea to trot on over so you could get in on the action.”
    I refrained from telling him that I didn’t really trot , either. Maturity, thy name is Christina. “How is Jackson doing?”
    “He’ll live.”
    “That’s good.”
    “Is it?” His voice was kind of growly.
    “What?”
    “He’s a rich fucking drug dealer who holds a grudge. There’s no reason to believe he won’t blame you.”
    “He’s rich?”
    “Funny, I thought you’d focus on the part about blaming you.”
    “I was getting around to that.”
    I heard him sigh. It sounded like the conversation was kind of making him old. I decided to change the subject before he needed an oxygen tank.
    “How about Micky?” I asked. “How’s he?”
    “I heard he’s a pain in the ass.”
    “Sometimes he becomes fractious when he’s feeling guilty about his past,” I said.
    “Are you being televised or is there another reason you’re talking like a damned robot?”
    I made a face. “Sometimes he gets nasty when he’s scared.”
    “Why should he be scared? He said the gun was the other guy’s. He said he acted in self-defense.”
    “And I suppose the legal system is just going to take his word for it.”
    “What do you know about this, McMullen?”
    “I have no reason to believe he had a gun or would have chosen to use it on Jackson even if he did.”
    “So you believe his story.”
    “Doesn’t it seem unlikely that he would have intentionally shot him, then called the paramedics, if he meant to kill him?”
    “I believe you were the one who mentioned guilt. Maybe he makes a habit