Undercover in High Heels Read Free

here?” Ramirez asked, his eyebrows still drawn together in confusion.
    “I could be asking the same question.” I poked a finger at Ramirez’s chest, coming up against his hard, six-day-a-week-at-the-gym pecs. “Who the hell do you think you are that you can lead me on, then just blow me off like this for another woman?”
    “Maddie, ” Ramirez said, his voice low and commanding. “Go home. I’ll explain later.”
    “Oh right! I’ll just go home and let you finish your date with Slutzilla here.” I was yelling loudly enough now that even over the pounding dance music, the couples at the adjacent tables were staring.
    “Who is this?” Amazon’s eyes ping-ponged between Ramirez and me. “I told you to come alone.”
    “Maddie, ” Ramirez said again, his eyes shooting daggers at me. “Don’t do this.”
    “Don’t do this? Don’t do this! I’m sorry, what exactly am I doing? Because it sure as hell isn’t dating some abnormally tall chick when you were supposed to be doing ‘or something’ with me!”
    “Ramirez?” the Amazon asked, shifting nervously.
    “Maddie, ” Ramirez warned.
    “Jerk!” I yelled.
    Then I picked up his half-empty glass and tossed the contents in his face.
    “Jesus, ” he sputtered, jumping from his chair and blinking Budweiser out of his eyes.
    “And as for you…” I said, turning on Amazon Woman.
    But I didn’t get to finish that threat.
    She bolted from her chair and, before I could register what was going on, pulled a gun out from her little red shrug (which I now realized was clearly not just for fashion’s sake) and grabbed me by my blonde roots. I let out a strangled cry as she wrapped one arm around my neck, holding me in a vise grip.
    “All right, nobody move!” she shouted to the shocked couples at the nearby tables, their mouths hanging open as they watched the scene unfold.
    Then Amazon Woman pushed the barrel of the gun against my temple.
    “Or Blondie dies.”

Chapter 2
    Holy crap! My first irrational thought as I stared at the barrel of Amazon’s gun was that not only was I being dumped for a tall woman, I was being dumped for a psycho! (Hey, I said it was irrational.) The second was pure thankfulness that Ramirez had quick cop reflexes. In a split second he had his gun unhol-stered and pointed at Amazon in a Mexican standoff.
    “Isabel, drop the gun, ” he commanded, his voice the only calm thing in the room.
    As soon as the guns had popped out, people started screaming and scattering. The Survivor chick dove under a table, and the CW actors trampled over the Olsen twin look-alike in a mad dash for the front doors. The deejay stopped spinning music, ducking behind a pair of speakers, and all I could hear now was the sound of glass breaking and a chorus of hysterical voices yelling, “Call nine-one-one.” I’m pretty sure I picked one of them out as Dana’s.
    “Isabel, ” Ramirez prompted again.
    “No way!” she shouted, tightening her grip on meuntil my vision started going blurry. “No fucking way.”
    “Isabel, let’s just calm down.”
    “I’m not calming nothing, you pig. This is a setup. I told you, no other cops.”
    “She’s not a cop, Isabel, ” Ramirez ground out past his clenched jaw.
    “Honest!” I squeaked. “I never even made it as a Girl Scout.”
    “Shut up!” she commanded, pushing the barrel into my temple.
    I shut up.
    “Isabel, listen to me, ” Ramirez said. He was slowly inching closer to her, his gun straight-armed in front of him. “Just set the gun down and you can walk out of here right now. No one has to get hurt.”
    She shook her head, long black hair flapping wildly around her face. “Uh-uh. No way, pal. I know you’ve got this place surrounded. You’ve got cops outside waiting for me. You set me up. And quit moving closer!”
    I heard Ramirez mutter the word Jesus under his breath and send me another dagger-sharp look. “I didn’t set you up. She’s not a cop, Isabel. She’s my…” He