High-Heeled Alibi. Sydney Ryan

was in a hurry.”

      He twisted the key out, watching her. “You should be more careful,” he advised, then pushed her inside.

      As soon as he released her, Bitsy took several steps into the house, but her progress was stopped abruptly.

      “Bravo, Bitsy,” a woman’s voice said. “You finally brought home a live one.”

      Lanie stepped into the kitchen. She wore a pair of Bitsy’s shorts, a T-shirt and a pair of turquoise flip-flops with plastic butterflies along their straps. A tall black witch’s hat sat on the kitchen table atop the heaped remains of the rest of the costume. The woman’s well-placed features resembled Bitsy’s, except, as she crossed her arms and leaned against the refrigerator, Lanie’s held the wry amusement of an older cousin who’d always enjoyed the advantage of power by birth date alone.

      “Lanie,” Bitsy warned.

      As the name left her mouth, Mick grasped her wrist and pulled her tightly against him in a false embrace. At her hip bone, his other hand pressed the gun into her belly. She instinctively recoiled. He released her wrist to wrap his arm around her neck, pressing her mouth closer to his.

      “Don’t,” he whispered like a deadly kiss.

      She felt the length of cool steel, its hard edge against the yield of flesh. The heat of her blood rose. The pulse in her throat beneath his palm quickened. All reasoning left her. Only instinct allowed her to speak in a breathless tone to her cousin.

      “What are you doing here, Lanie?”

      “I had a fight with Roy last night. Just because he was dressed as Casper the Friendly Ghost didn’t mean he could spend half the night in a corner with a Wonder Woman wannabe. So, I crashed here. How come you didn’t show up? Oops, dumb question. I can see—”

      “Lanie?” Bitsy’s voice sounded more strangled than passionate.

      “Yes, right.” Lanie misinterpreted the urgency in her cousin’s voice. “I can see you’re occupied, so I’ll just discreetly let myself out.”

      Lanie gathered her costume, plopping the witch’s hat on her head. As she passed them, she tugged on the sheet wrapped around Mick’s middle. “It seems my cousin and I share the same fondness for friendly ghosts.”

      She gave Mick a wink, flashed a smile at Bitsy and was gone. The side door banged, then all was quiet. Bitsy was once again alone with a madman.