High Heels and Homicide by Kasey Michaels

Wait up!”
    Saint Just halted, turned to see Maggie running across the sand, her hair and skirt blowing in the wind, her sea-green cashmere sweater hugging her lithe curves, her feet bare on the cold sand. Yes, she had become slightly more rounded in the past six weeks, but he liked her with fewer sharp edges. Her dark copper, chin-length hair, with its exquisite highlights, begged to be touched.
    And happiness, lately so lacking in her Irish green eyes, shone from her now.
    He could pen an ode to her beauty. She was fresh and sparkling, totally unaffected, and unaware of her impact on the male of the species. Not that terribly small, but in this land of Kelly Giants, a veritable Pocket Venus.
    â€œMaggie,” he said as she fell into step beside him. “Is your presence here in the way of a companionable stroll with a friend, or am I serving as a bolt-hole?”
    â€œBoth, I guess. Dad and I had another nice talk earlier—I actually feel like I’m starting to know him a little bit. He’s afraid of Mom. He didn’t say it, but he is. And yet, he loves her very much. Strange,” she said, pushing her hair out of her face as she smiled up at him. “Oh, and I just told Tate to shove it.”
    â€œI beg your pardon?”
    â€œI told him off, Alex,” she said, dancing ahead of him into the last little wavelet to roll up onto the beach. “Oh, cold! And I’m so hot .” A shoe in each hand, she spun around in a circle, her head back, spinning round and round, until she lost her balance, and Saint Just caught her.
    â€œI’d say you were a tad in your altitudes, except that it hasn’t quite gone noon and you rarely drink.”
    â€œI’m drunk on life, Alex! I told him off! ”
    â€œReally. And what, pray tell, prompted this confrontation?”
    She sobered and stepped away from him. “You did, Alex. I couldn’t stand the look in your eyes every time Mom yelled and I went running like some Pavlov dog. And I could see that muscle working in your jaw whenever Tate started on one of his damn lectures. I’d had enough. I mean, not coming home? Avoiding them? That’s not the answer. I had something to say, and I finally said it. I’m a big girl now, all grown up, and I’ve got to stop reacting like some intimidated child.”
    â€œRemarkable,” Saint Just said, longing to take her in his arms. She looked so free , so very liberated. He’d been very worried she’d suffer a backward slide, reach for the solace of Dame Nicotine while upset, but she hadn’t. She’d gone on the offensive. “Would that I could have been there, my dear.”
    â€œNo, no. This one I had to do on my own.” She narrowed her eyes. “And I was brilliant . Oh, yes. B - r - i -double- l -brilliant! I tell you, I sliced him into a million pieces, and he’s so thick he didn’t even realize it until he tried to walk and came apart like a string of paper dolls. I think I want to go back, take on Maureen, tell her it’s time she stopped being a mouse and got a life. You know, while I’m on a roll.”
    â€œOh, I really don’t think so,” Saint Just said, pulling her arm through his and heading them both off down the beach. “One victory a day should be sufficient. And my congratulations. Your brother is a bit of a twit. Not enough to expend my energy on, but certainly no one who should be able to cow my own dear Maggie.”
    â€œAnd I was good ,” Maggie said, leaning her head against his shoulder. Then, suddenly, she sobered, this being-high-on-life business obviously a tad transitory. “Oh, boy, now I’ve got to go back, and Maureen will have run tattling to Mom, and all hell’s going to break loose. Quick, drown me.”
    â€œI have a better suggestion, if you don’t mind. You and Sterling and I could drive up the coast, to Atlantic City. I understand the trip is no more than