Free Barbara Silkstone - Wendy Darlin 04 - Miami Mummies by Barbara Silkstone Page B

were left with suit number three.
    The stiff spandex was up to my butt when I ran out of pulling energy. It was like giving birth to myself. I reached out from the curtain and yanked Kit back into the fitting room. Two of us in a closet-size space forcing my only body into spandex casing caused the purple drape to flip around like a gypsy girl’s skirt.
    Our grunts drew a cautionary comment from Lady Merlot. “This is neither the time nor place!” she snapped.
    When I was finally installed in the full-body straightjacket, Kit fastened the hood under my chin. The mask pressed on my sore nose but I did look adorable in a super-hero way. I wondered if they had a Batman suit for Roger. It occurred to me I might have to pee, but I filed that thought away under things to do later.
    Experienced at costume changes Kit helped me remove the suit. It was a keeper.
    “Stay right there!” Kit said.
    Since he’d run off with my street clothes I didn’t have a lot of choice.
    He hung two bawdy corsets with dangling garters on the cushioned hooks. One black and one white, and both trashy.
    “I hope those are for you, because they are so not for me!”
    He unfastened the black iron maiden. “Try it on. Just for fun. Roger will love it.”
    “Roger won’t have to wear it. That’s a portable torture chamber.”
    He spun around and covered his eyes. “I won’t look. Just do it. For me.”
    It was hard to turn him down. He’d been so good to me. Reluctantly I wiggled into the iron-boned waist cincher, my ribs poking my kidneys. The corset came with a built-in bra large enough to accommodate the playmates of the month for the entire year.
    “You can turn around.”
    Kit’s hand flew to his mouth as he gasped. “You look just like Mae West! Absolutely bodacious!”
    I burst out laughing and the Velcro fasteners busted sending both ends of the corset flying. “That is the last word anyone would use to describe me.”
    A deep sultry voice interrupted our play. “ Someone needs the fitting room. Are you done in there?”
    I shoved Kit through the curtain and redressed in my gray business suit. I ran my brush through my hair and pulled it back in a barrette.
    Lady Merlot leaned on the counter at the checkout desk chuckling. Kit and I were quite a team once we started with the slaps and giggles. The hostess happily charged and bagged me. I thought of putting the cost on my business card, but I’d be hard pressed to turn this into a real estate deduction.
    One step outside the shop and my cell rang. It was Tippy. “I’m being followed!”
    “Tip, call the cops. I can’t help you right now. You’re on my to-do list but not today.”
    “Fine! They’ll find a note in my pocket blaming you for my death.”
    I clicked off. The dame was impossible.
    “Let’s stop in the Calligraphy shop. I promised you a little gift.”
    “I’ve never had a calligraphy before.” My understanding of calligraphy was fancy writing done with a special pen. What was a calligraphy?
    Kit held the door and I stepped into the shop. It was an explosion of color, tiles of every shape and size with quotes from Oscar Wilde to Cher. The tiny store was crowded. I guess calligraphies were popular with gays.
    “This one is perfect.” Kit handed me a six-inch white tile with dark blue lettering.
    It’s the friends you can call at 4 a.m. that matter. ~ Marlene Dietrich
    “For luck, tonight.” He kissed the top of my head as the clerk bagged the gift.
     
    Back at my condo I set the alarm for nine p.m. and curled into bed for a short nap. It was going to be a long night. A horrible nightmare settled into my REM sleep. Goofy-looking mummies with holes in the wrappings were chasing me up the side of the Empire State Building. Detective Stranger was standing at the top like King Kong beating his chest. I screamed out for Roger and woke up.

Chapter Thirteen
    At ten minutes after midnight Leech, dressed in charcoal gray spandex and wearing a Batman mask,