Free Dirty Blonde by Lisa Scottoline

out of her purse onto the seat. GINA, read the green letters glowing in the dark. Huh ? Gina never called at this hour. It could be some emergency with Warren. Cate flipped the phone open. “Geen?”
    “I saw on the news that—wait, did I wake you?” Gina said, and Cate felt sudden tears come to her eyes at the sound of her friend’s voice. Everything was falling apart, and she finally felt safe enough to cry. “Cate? What’s the matter?”
    “I’m fine.” Cate tried to hold it together. “I really am—”
    “What happened? Did you see Graham tonight? Where are you?”
    “God knows, by the airport.” Cate looked out the car window, but between the waterworks and the rain, she could barely read the sign. “Ellsworth Avenue? A stupid pink motel? Can you believe this?”
    “What are you doing there ?”
    “Screwing up my life.” Cate wiped her eyes but they kept welling up. “This man I went with…he attacked me at the motel. I was almost raped.”
    Gina gasped. “Graham?”
    Oh, the irony. “No, someone else.”
    “Oh my God! I’ll meet you. I’ll get the neighbor to sit. I’ll be right there.”
    “No, don’t. I’m going home.”
    “But you’re upset. You can’t drive.”
    “I can, too. This is ridiculous. I’m acting like a baby.” Cate didn’t know what was happening to her. Nothing was working. She was losing control. “What about Warren? Is he okay?”
    “Fine. Go home, and I’ll be right there. Drive carefully !”
    “Love you.” Cate flipped the phone closed and accelerated, the windshield wipers working frantically. She drove ahead, but in the next minute heard a loud bobbling sound from the front of the car. A flat tire. Not my night. She hit the car’s button for Roadside Assistance, and a female operator was piped through her car speakers. “We’ll have a truck there as soon as possible,” the voice assured her, echoing like the Wizard of Mercedes.
    Cate hung up, counting her blessings. She called Gina to tell her she’d be late, but there was no answer. She flipped the phone closed and waited in the driver’s seat, wiping her eyes and trying to get over herself.
    It’s easier to fix a flat than a life.
    An hour and a half later, Cate had reached her town house in Society Hill and pulled into her driveway behind Gina’s brown Pathfinder. A plume of smoky exhaust rose from the back of the car. Gina must have been running the engine to stay warm, all this time. Cate grabbed her bag and got out of the car. At least the rain had stopped.
    “Cate!” Gina burst out of her car, arms outstretched in her parka, and hurried to the Mercedes. “What took you so long? I forgot my cell, so I couldn’t call.”
    “Sorry, the truck took forever to come.”
    “What truck?” Gina gave her a huge hug. “I was so worried. I never heard you cry like that.” Her expression looked stricken, and loose hair fell from its ponytail. This time, her trademark high drama was in order. “What happened ?”
    “It’s a long story,” Cate answered, and they went inside the house side by side.
    “So that’s it, all of it,” Cate said, sitting at the round Moser table in her kitchen, behind coffee in her favorite mug. Halogen lights of multicolored Murano glass hung overhead on a track, making a cozy glow against walls of warm tangerine. She felt so happy to be home, safe in her kitchen and restored to her life. She told Gina everything and watched her friend’s expression change from freaked out to extremely freaked out, though she merely listened in silence. But her brown eyes glistened when she heard what had happened at the motel.
    “You should call the cops on that bastard, I swear.” Gina nodded angrily. “But you know, you can’t. It’d be all over the papers.”
    “I don’t know if there’s enough for attempted rape, legally.” Cate felt raw and ugly. “So, you hate me now?”
    “No, not at all.” Gina slumped in her chair, lost in her gray PENN sweats. The plaid