Love Can Be Murder

waited on women who at the eleventh hour had succumbed to the temptation to own a pair of the infamous shoes so that they could have them signed by the creator. For two hours she sold shoes as fast as she could tote them from the showroom. She kept her mind off her aching feet by concentrating on the commission she was earning. She had just slid off one of her pumps to massage her heel when Sammy Sanders walked up wearing a tight black dress and a pained smile.
    "Jolie, do you work on Saturdays too ?"
    Jolie bit the end of her tongue, then nodded.
    "Wow, that doesn't leave you much time to sell real estate, does it?"
    Jolie tasted blood.
    "And, oh, you poor dear...I heard about Gary's car being pulled out of the river—with a woman inside!"
    Jolie nodded.
    Sammy's eyes were large and shocked. "Do you know who it is?"
    Jolie shook her head.
    "Do they think Gary is dead, too?"
    Jolie pursed her mouth. "Did you need some help, Sammy?"
    Sammy sniffed. "I understand—you can't talk about it while you're on the clock." She released a musically sympathetic sigh. "Well, I closed a big, big deal this week, and decided to splurge and buy myself another pair of Manolos, something really special. I figured the least I could do was to let you have the commission."
    Jolie's cheeks burned, but Sammy seemed ready to spend a lot of money. Being in no position to turn away business, she suddenly had a bright idea. She smiled and removed the glass case key from the cash register. "I know just the thing—we have only a couple of pairs left, and the size seven is on display."
    As Jolie expected, Sammy fell in love with the pink-and-rhinestone shoes that Carlotta had worn to the High Museum party a few nights ago.
    "I'll take them," Sammy announced, then looked up. "I saw another pair of shoes while I was here the other day...silver-colored pumps with cutouts?"
    Jolie's mouth twitched—the shoes she herself had worn last night. "I believe I know which ones you're talking about. Just a minute." She went to the stockroom and returned with the box she'd given to Michael earlier. "These?"
    "Yes, those are lovely."
    Jolie removed the cardboard stays that had so distressed her feet, then knelt and eased them onto Sammy's perfectly pedicured puppies. Sammy stood and beamed her satisfaction. "I'll take these, too." She lifted her hands. "Gee, Jolie, you seem to have a real gift for retail sales."
    Jolie wanted to kick her, but sucked up the backhanded compliment and repacked the pricey shoes. She was, after all, using Sammy to dispose of the shoes that she and Carlotta had "borrowed." "Thanks, Sammy."
    When they reached the counter, the woman tossed her hair, then said, "The Singer deal fell through."
    Jolie looked up. The deal she'd quit over. "Oh?"
    "You didn't know?"
    Jolie frowned. "How would I have known?"
    Sammy shrugged. "I just wondered if anyone had contacted you, asking questions."
    Her mind raced—questions meaning someone had suspected Sammy was playing both sides against the middle? "No," she said evenly, and began ringing up the sale, sending inconspicuous glances in the direction of the woman for whom she used to work. Sammy seemed agitated, touching her face a lot, stroking her hair. Jolie had never before seen Sammy rattled. It was kind of leveling.
    Jolie announced the total of the sale—over forty-four hundred dollars, thankyouverymuch. When Sammy opened her small green Kate Spade bag, Jolie caught a glimpse of metal and remembered with a jolt that Sammy had a permit to carry a concealed handgun. Jolie conceded that being a female real-estate agent could land a woman in remote locations with strangers, but she'd always wondered if Sammy had ulterior motives for being armed, such as protecting herself from anyone she might have double-crossed.
    Sammy withdrew a pink lizard-skin wallet and removed a wad of hundreds. Jolie wasn't completely surprised—it would be just like Sammy to keep some of the agency's business off the books and pocket the cash.
    Jolie counted the hundreds carefully, then said, "You gave me five hundred too much," and slid the extra bills back toward Sammy.
    "That's for you." Sammy said, her expression completely still.
    Jolie blinked. "Excuse me?"
    Sammy pushed the money back toward Jolie. "Call it severance."
    Astonishment bled through her limbs even as her mind was screaming, Take it! Take it! She could buy a copier, stationery, a ticket to Cancun. "I can't take that money, Sammy."
    "Sure you