Mayhem & Mistletoe, стр. 44

Her expression darkened. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what do you want?”

I had to laugh. “You’re the second person to ask me that in the last hour ... and he phrased it the same way.”

“How’s Eliot?”

That was a complicated question. “He’s good. He’s helping me with a little project. That’s why I’m here. I need your help. In fact ....” I broke off at the sound of an opening door and turned, my gaze falling on the bathroom. I almost fell over when I recognized the figure waddling out.

My best friend Carly, who was due to spew forth life at any moment, walked with her hand at the small of her back. She led with her prodigious stomach, which was so large I genuinely feared it might burst.

“You look like you’ve swallowed the world’s biggest pumpkin,” I blurted out without thinking.

Lexie cuffed the back of my head. Hard. “That’s not a nice thing to say to your best friend.”

I recognized that. Still, I couldn’t look away. “Should you be out of bed? I mean ... that can’t be comfortable.”

“Oh, do you think?” Carly’s eyes were glittery slits of hate as she padded in my direction. She looked so unhappy I worried she was going to explode all over me ... and what a picture that painted in my head.

“I think she looks great,” Lexie lied, squaring her shoulders as she shoved the green concoction toward Carly. “They say pregnant women have a glow. She definitely has that.”

“Probably because she can’t stop herself from sweating between the bathroom and the counter,” I noted.

Luckily for me, Carly’s reflexes were dulled. She took a swipe, missing by a good foot. “Don’t make me hurt you,” she threatened.

“Trust me, the last thing I want is for you to hurt me.” All I could picture was her sitting on me. I would be stuck there until the baby was born, which at this rate might be never. I was starting to consider the possibility that Carly was suffering through the gestation period of an elephant. “Isn’t that kid supposed to be here already?”

“Two weeks ago.” Carly tried to get up on the stool three times before I finally had the sense to help her. She barely weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet before becoming pregnant. Now she weighed so much I thought I might throw my back out lifting her.

“Is that normal?”

“Does this look normal?”

She was so grouchy I decided to keep a stool between us as I sat down a second time. “So, who wants to hear about my day? Actually, more like my three days.”

Neither of them raised a hand.

“It’s a good story,” I teased.

“Nobody cares,” Carly shot back. “I have a two-week-old child inside of me. Nobody cares what’s going on with you.”

Wow, and I thought she was crabby on a PMS day. Rather than continue this particular conversation, I focused on Lexie. “I need information. I’m hoping you can provide it ... and quickly.” I risked a glance at Carly, who was glowering at me. “I clearly need to get out of here if I value my life.”

“What sort of information?” Lexie asked. “Aren’t you working on that dead Santa story? That’s the last thing I read with your byline on it.”

“I am.” I filled her in on my last few days, keeping the story concise. I wanted to get as much information as possible and then run. “I was hoping you knew something about that halfway house.”

“I’m pretty sure I know the place you’re talking about,” Lexie confirmed. “Near Dequindre and Canfield?”

I nodded. “Right in there.”

“It has quite the reputation. Do you remember that guy I was dating?”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Maurice, the guy who had a half moon tattooed on his cheek.”

Oh, right. How could I forget that guy? “I remember. He kept calling me Britney.”

“That’s what he calls all blondes. Anyway, he was big in the trade.”

In Lexie’s world, “the trade” meant drugs. She’d cleaned up her life the past two years, but she still had one weakness: the men she dated. They were all dealers. “Pot?”

“He dabbled in a bit of everything,” she replied evasively, and I knew that was all she would give me on Maurice. “That house supposedly has an underground pipeline to the big dealers across the border. I’m not sure it’s true, but that’s what I heard.”

“The Canadian border?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, the border of Ohio. Of course the Canadian border.”

I held up my hands in defeat. “I was just asking. I ....”

Next to me, Carly grunted. When I turned to check on her, I found her red-faced and sweaty.

“Do I even want to know what you’re doing?” I asked warily.

“I’m trying to get my water to break,” she grunted.

“Here?” I glanced at the floor to make sure she hadn’t managed to accomplish her task. “Why would you want your water to break?”

“So the baby comes.”

“Yeah, but ... then you have to go through labor.”

“Anything is better than this.”

I had news for her, television and movies the world over had taught me the opposite. “Okay, let’s try this again. Is there a reason you’re trying to get your water to break in Lexie’s studio?”

“The doctor says mild exercise and plenty of fruits and vegetables should work. We’ve been trying both the last three days. Nothing so far.”

I was growing more uncomfortable with the conversation. “Well, do you think you can hold off on ... that ... until I’m done grilling Lexie? I would greatly appreciate it.”

“You’re the worst best friend ever,” she complained. “You don’t even care about my pain.”

“I care a great deal. I just don’t want your pain to turn into my pain.”

“Oh, you’re so stupid sometimes,” Lexie sneered as Carly burst into tears.

“What did I do now?” I was genuinely at a loss.

“You’re just being you.” Lexie moved around the bar to console Carly. “I don’t know what to tell you about the house. If you’re