Shallow Grave-J Collins 3 by Lori G. Armstrong Page B

purple sweats that clashed something awful with her burgundy hair. Not a hint of blush or eyeliner on her waxy face. Usually her locks were impeccably coiff ed. Today it looked like she’d combed her hair with a toilet brush.
    “Oh, God, Jules, I have to talk to you.”
    My heart rate kicked up. Her good eye was puff y and red from crying, which accentuated the creepiness of the glass one.
    Kim paced, chewing her unpainted lip.
    I circled the desk and nudged her toward the two cloth wingbacks, kitty-corner from the window. I drew the line at letting her sob in my beloved buff alo skin chair.
    Besides, I suspected she’d sat on a bag of Cheetos, as her butt was an odd shade of orange. “What’s wrong?”
    Kim’s tears fell in a steady stream. “I’m pregnant.”
    I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I didn’t know what to say. So I sat there like a dumb ass and let her cry.
    Her Kleenex was little more than tatters. I found my wits and reached for the box on my desk, handing 71

    her two.
    “Th
    ank you.”
    She blew her nose, not like a honking duck, but a delicate sniff , her perfect southern breeding intact.
    Kim’s good eye met mine. Th
    e glass one focused on
    my shoulder. She snapped her lids shut, reopened them and got it back in alignment. Weird to think she had a tracking type device in her head. Very Six Million Dollar Man .
    I said, “Who?”
    “Who what?”
    “We’re not playing this, are we?”
    She shook her head, bowed it, and began to cry again.
    “Come on, Kim. You brought this up. Who?”
    “I don’t want to tell you who.”
    Only one reason she wouldn’t want to tell me: if I was acquainted with the father. I automatically dismissed Martinez. Kim wouldn’t poach, and Martinez had an obsessive thing about fi delity. And blondes. And me.
    Every muscle in my body went rigid.
    Kevin?
    How would I react if Kevin was the father? He was my best friend, my business partner, my Kevin. Yet, Kim was an attractive, gregarious woman. Kevin was crazy about her. I couldn’t pick a better match for her, or for him for that matter. Still, the idea of them together 72

    made me . . . strangely jealous.
    I braced myself, and repeated, “Who?”
    She blurted, “Murray.”
    “Murray? As in Murray, our dentist, Murray? Murray who has offi
    ces on the second fl oor?”
    Kim nodded.
    A hysterical, relieved giggle escaped from me. “Hey, I know you don’t have dental insurance, but isn’t sex an extreme solution for getting a reduction on your teeth cleaning bill?”
    Her hands came up, covered her face, and she sobbed.
    Sometimes I amaze myself with my bad timing and smart mouth.
    I knelt in front of her. “Okay. Bad joke. I’m sorry.
    It’s just . . . I didn’t know you and Murray . . .”
    “I didn’t want you to know.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because you’re sneaking around with sexy stud, alpha biker, Tony Martinez. Going out with Murray Fetzer, DDS, seems a little vanilla in comparison.”
    Th
    at absolutely fl oored me. Didn’t she know I’d give anything for some of that vanilla in my relationship with Martinez? It made me mad that she thought so little of me. Hell, made me mad that I thought so little of myself.
    “Jesus, Kim. Why would you give a shit what I think?
    73

    Especially about your choices in men?”
    Startled by my vehemence, she scooted back.
    “How long have you been seeing Murray?”
    “Th
    at’s the thing. We’ve gone out off and on for the last couple of months. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. I mean, we never even talked about us not seeing other people.”
    “Are you seeing another guy?”
    “No.”
    “Is he?”
    “Seeing another guy? Gawd, I hope not.”
    Color me glad she’d calmed down enough to crack a joke.
    “I can’t believe it. We were so careful.” Her good eye went wide. “Except for that one time, when we stopped into his offi
    ce after hours and he showed me his
    new adjustable chair.”
    “You guys did it in his dentist’s