Page 48 of Drop Dead Gorgeous

I put the note down and tugged on the metal cage thingie that separated the backseat from the front and protected the officers. They weren’t meant to be budged; if they had been, I’m sure there are a lot of people stronger than I am who would already have budged them. So much for that effort.

There was nothing I could do. I pressed the note against the window again, rested my head against the paper to hold it in place, closed my eyes, and waited. Eventually, someone would let me out, and then they’d all know what stupid assholes they were.

For all the attention anyone was paying me, the psycho stalker bitch could walk up to the car from the other side and shoot through the window. As soon as the thought popped into my head I sat up and took a panicked look around, but no psychos were in sight. Well, that particular one wasn’t, anyway.

I remembered putting some of that clean-your-breath gum in the tote. I felt around in the tote until I found it, punched out a piece, and began chewing. While I chewed I tore another page out of my appointment book and wrote:FORGET JAZZ AND SALLY THE WEDDING IS OFF!!!! When the chewing gum was thoroughly chewed I took it out of my mouth, pinched it in half, and used one half to stick the Stalker note to the window, and the other half held the Jazz and Sally note right below it.

Then I punched out more gum, and tore another sheet out of the appointment book.

Because the back window sloped, I needed both halves of that piece of gum to do the job. That note said:ASSHOLE MEN.

The pack of gum held ten pieces. I used all of them.

By the time anyone noticed, I pretty well had the back window and both side windows plastered with notes.

Through one of the bare places—not that there were many—I saw a patrolman glance over, do a kind of “What the hell?” look, then nudge someone else and point. A couple of others noticed the pointing, and they looked, too. DeMarius noticedthat,even though he’d ignored my beating and yelling—when I could still yell, that is—and he turned around to look. He grinned and shook his head, pulling out his flashlight as he approached.

I turned my back on him and crossed my arms. Damned if I’d beg to be let out now, when it wouldn’t do any good.

He shined his flashlight on my notes, or at least on the two in the side window. A second later, I heard him yell. He jerked the door open, yanked the stalker note free of the gum, andslammed the door closed again.Even if I could have said a word of protest he wouldn’t have heard it, because he was sprinting toward Wyatt.

The bare spot on the window was aesthetically unpleasing. I hadn’t run out of things to say, so I wrote another note and stuck it up. I had to use the same piece of gum that had held the stalker note, but it was still pliable enough. Good thing; no way would I have put it back in my mouth to chew it again.

I didn’t watch Wyatt to see what his reaction was. I didn’t care, because no matter what he did now, he was too late. She was long gone, and I was so far beyond pissed there were no words for it.

I saw Wyatt coming toward the squad car, his face grim. I moved to the center of the seat, clutching the blanket around me, and faced forward.

He came to the left door. As he opened it, I scooted all the way to the right. He leaned in and barked, “Are you sure? Can you give me a description? Where was she?”

There was so much I wanted to say, beginning with Why bother now, she’s long gone, thanks to you being such an asshole, but I couldn’t say anything right now so I didn’t even try. Instead I grabbed my appointment book again, furiously scribbled “blond hair, wearing a hoodie, WAS in the crowd,” tore out the page, and extended my arm to give him the note. Looking for her now was a totally useless effort, no way was she still hanging around, but he wasn’t going to be able to accusemeof not cooperating. She had escaped, it was totally his fault, and I intended to keep it that way.

Sometimes being morally superior is the only way to go.

Wyatt quickly scanned the note, handed it to DeMarius, and began spitting out ordersas he slammed the car door closed again.

There are no words.

Chapter

Twenty

Eventually Wyatt came back to the squad car, but by then dawn was beginning to lighten the sky, which meant I’d been in that damn car forhours. Nothing was left of my condo except debris, stench, smoke, and some dully glowing embers that one unit of the fire department was hosing down. Wyatt’s truck was a goner, no doubt about it; so was the car parked next to it. The family who had lived next door huddled together, the little kids’ faces solemn and big-eyed, the parents clutching each other and the kids. Their place wasn’t a total loss, but they wouldn’t be living there again anytime soon.

What had I done to make someone hate me so much that she’d not only try tokillme, but didn’t care if she also killed innocent people in the effort? Well, I meanotherinnocent people, because I couldn’t think of a thing I was guilty of that warranted killing. I try not to break any major laws, I don’t cheat on my taxes, and if someone gives me back too much change I always give them back the correct amount. I also tip twenty percent. There was no logical reason I could see for this kind of malice and destruction.

Which meant the reason had to be illogical, right? I was dealing with a psycho. Their thought processes are warped.

Wyatt strode through the mess and debris, his frustration and temper evident when he viciously kicked at a chunk of wood and sent it flying. I knew they hadn’t caught the blonde, because I hadn’t seen anyone being escorted into the back of any of the other squad cars—no, that honor was reserved for me,the victim—but then I hadn’t expected her to be caught because she was long gone by the time anyone paid any attention to me. Wyatt’s badge was clipped to his belt, he was armed, and his face and arms were black with soot. A fire is not neat. I could just imagine what I looked like—after all, I’d beeninthe place. Let’s just say it’s a wonder DeMarius had recognized me in the crowd, though maybe it had been my soot covering that gave me away.

Opening the door, Wyatt leaned in and extended his hand. “Come on, let’s go home.”

I didn’t have a home, thank you very much, and I wasn’t inclined to go to Wyatt’s. I wasn’t inclined to go anywhere with him. I thought I’d just go back to the police department with DeMarius, seeing as how I was in his squad car already.

I didn’t say anything, of course, because I still couldn’t make a sound. I sat against the right side door, wrapped in the blanket, and stared resolutely ahead.

“Blair—” His tone was heavy with warning but he bit off whatever he’d been about to say and instead leaned in and dragged me, blanket and all, out of the car, then simply swung me up in his arms. Wrapped up as I was, I couldn’t do anything to ward him off so I continued staring straight ahead.

“Someone get those signs off the windows,” he ordered, and DeMarius leaned into the car and began plucking my messages free from the wads of gum. The gum, of course, remained behind. He also handed out the pieces of my cell phone as well as my tote, which had been knocked to the floorboard when Wyatt dragged me out, giving both to a female officer I didn’t know.

---