Greg opened the car door. “Get out.”
Kiki stepped out with a head full of excuses, but he drove away before she could speak.
She watched the Mercedes disappear over a hill. No one had ever dumped her before. That had always been her job.
An icy wind blew her pink hair in her eyes. Great. I just got my hair done. She reached in her back pocket for her phone—the one that she’d left in the Mercedes. Along with her jacket. “Crap!” She stomped her feet and her green leather stilettos sank into slushy mud. She stepped back onto the asphalt, cursing the new scratches on her spiky metal heels.
She scanned the horizon and saw nothing but thick forest. Greg had said they were going to his cabin in the woods, with “No neighbors, boutiques or spas for a hundred miles.”
She hugged her bare arms for warmth, annoyed. Hurry up already, somebody. Damsel in distress here.
She figured she’d flag down the next car that came by. But… who to call next? She inventoried her Kiki worshippers, and came up with a dozen love sick boys with big houses and credit cards. Whatever. As long as they have heating, ‘cause its freaking cold!
A fox popped his head out of the brush, sniffing.
Kiki screamed, “Seriously? Wild animals too? Shoo!”
He inspected her face, then took a cautious step towards her green shoes with the shiny heels.
Burning mad, Kiki yelled, “You want my shoe? Stupid little creature! I’ll give you my shoe!” She pulled off a shoe and hurled it hard at the animal, who scampered into the forest.
“And… now my foot’s freezing.” She hopped towards her shoe at the edge of the forest, but sank into the slush. “Damn it!”
The fox stole back through the brush just long enough to nab the shoe and vanish into a thicket.
Kiki cursed and scowled, hopping on one heel.
A flake of snow settled on her bare shoulder. “Are you kidding? I’m wearing a halter top, for god’s sake!” She flicked it off and shouted to the sky at the top of her lungs, “Somebody get their sorry ass over here and rescue me!”
The sky responded with a dump of stinging snow.
Kiki’s blood boiled. “Oh no you don’t!” She pulled off her other shoe and flung it straight up at the sky through the blinding white.
Officer Lee shivered and shined a flashlight on the pink haired lady in the snow. “Cause of death?”
The coroner knelt over her. “Looks like the perpetrator used a dull thin object, maybe the width of a pencil, which penetrated the left eye and continued on into the brain. Wound approximately five inches deep. Have you found the weapon?”
Officer Lee shook his head. “No sir. But we have a suspect in custody. Her boyfriend, Greg Barnes. He called us from his cabin a few miles up the road. He said they were fighting in the car so he dropped her off here an hour ago, alive and well.”
“And barefoot—in the snow? Nice guy.”
“Greg claims she was wearing shoes when he left.”
“So we need to find her shoes and the murder weapon.”
“So far we’ve found neither.”
The coroner saw a whirl of fur and jumped up, startled. “What was that?”
Officer Lee chuckled. “Scared of a little fox? I think he likes the smell of your feet!”
Unfazed, the fox scampered back to his hole under the briar to chew on his green prizes. He liked the feel of the leather on his sharp teeth, and licked a bloody heel clean.