Read Lupi 09 - Mortal Ties for Free Online

something—”
    Another mistake. Usually she handled her mother better than this. She started tossing
     clothes around as her mother explained how very stupid it was to assume it wasn’t
     gangs when the police didn’t know who’d done it, and if the victim wasn’t dead yet,
     he probably would be soon, and if he didn’t die, he’d probably be paralyzed. How was
     that any better? Not that she wouldn’t far prefer to have a paralyzed daughter to
     a dead one, but this wasn’t about her feelings, it was about Beth’s safety.
    Beth sighed and pulled out the big guns. “I really think this neighborhood is safe,
     but you’re right, I have to be careful. I’ll ask Lily to check those crime statistics
     for the area again. Maybe they’ve changed. I know she said they looked pretty good
     when I moved here, but…”
    It worked. It worked so well Beth ground her teeth. Citing her sister calmed her mother
     as nothing else could these days. It was as irrational as it was infuriating. “You
     want to call her yourself? Oh, of course. I know…” Where were those damn shoes?
    “And just what do you think you’re doing in my room?”
    She must have been listening to her mother more than she’d thought. She hadn’t heard
     the front door. Beth looked up at the skinny girl lounging in the doorway. Deirdre
     had short, shiny blond hair, a nose stud, five piercings in one ear and three in the
     other. She didn’t trust even numbers. “Looking for my—hey!”
    Beneath the ragged hem of Deirdre’s jeans were the sky-high hot pink wedges Beth had
     bought when she got herfirst check as a freelance website designer. She waved at her roommate’s feet. “Take
     ’em off. No, Mother, I didn’t mean you. Deirdre borrowed my shoes and I want to wear
     them, so…listen, can I call you back? It might be late, but—okay, tomorrow, then.
     Love you.”
    She disconnected quickly.
    “You don’t need your shoes now,” Deirdre informed her. “It’s Tuesday. You’re going
     to the dojo. You don’t do kung fu in wedges.”
    “I don’t do kung fu at all, and I wear shoes to get to the class, which is not held
     in a dojo. Today I will wear
those
shoes. Which are mine.”
    Deirdre rolled her eyes and stepped over two newly redistributed piles of clothes.
     “You weren’t this selfish in college.”
    “I wasn’t buying my own stuff in college. Do you know what I paid for those?”
    “They were on sale.” Still, Deirdre sat on her bed—and a red sweater, a yellow and
     green skirt, and a pair of jeans—and unbuckled one shoe. “So who’s the target?”
    “I don’t know what you mean.”
    Deirdre waved a vague hand. “You’re wearing a new sweater—which I love, by the way,
     and when did you get it?—and you’re desperate for your fuck-me wedges. There is a
     target.” She handed Beth one shoe, and her narrow face lit in a grin. “Oooh. Are you
     finally moving on Sean?”
    Beth slid the shoe on. “Sean and I are just friends.”
    “These are not just-friends shoes.” Deirdre dangled the second shoe by its skinny
     strap.
    “Anything more would be inappropriate, now that I’m working for him.” Beth reached
     for the shoe.
    Deirdre jerked it back, out of reach. “Nuh-uh. Not until you come clean. And you aren’t
     working for Sean. He’s a client, or his firm is, which is not the same thing at—hey!”
    Beth had tackled Deirdre back onto the bed, snatching her shoe in the process. Beth
     rolled off, sat up, and bent to fasten the shoe in place. “He doesn’t see it that
     way, plus he’s hung up on the age difference.”
    “Hence the shoes and the sweater.”
    Beth couldn’t help sliding her friend a grin. “Hence the shoes and sweater. “
    Deirdre squealed. “Go you! He’s one heavenly hunk of man, and what’s a couple of years?
     Besides, older guys can be so considerate.”
    It was twenty years, not a couple, and Beth knew that ought to matter. It didn’t.
     It just didn’t.