The Lipstick Killers

fault of her own. Come on sis…’
    Reluctantly Margaret handed over the car keys and Roxie jumped in and looked at the controls. ‘Piece of cake,’ she said. ‘How do you get the top down?’
    ‘Press that button.’
    The soft top slid back smoothly and Roxie started the engine. ‘Sweet,’ she said as she gave it some revs.
    ‘Come on, let’s get going before you wake them upstairs.’
    ‘Sorry,’ said Roxie with a mischievous smile, as she slipped the gear lever into reverse and backed out of the drive.
    ‘Turn left at the end,’ said Margaret. ‘The A3’s a mile away.’
    ‘Can’t wait,’ said Roxie, as she shifted into first gear and shot off down the road. ‘A Thelma and Louise trip. What music have you got?’
    Margaret hit the button for the CD changer and her favourite album began to play.
    ‘Who’s that?’ said Roxie above the sound
    ‘Cowboy Junkies.’
    ‘Blimey. No wonder you’re on suspension.’
    ‘Funny.’
    ‘So what happened? I heard you shot someone.’
    ‘Dead right.’
    ‘But not dead?’
    ‘No,’ said Mags, shortly.
    ‘You’ll be OK then. Super-cop will get through this.’
    ‘Stop calling me that. Anyway, that Mahoney didn’t seem to think so.’
    ‘The copper? I had a peep when he left. A bit tasty eh?’
    ‘I didn’t notice.’
    ‘He noticed you though. I saw the look he gave you.’
    ‘Piss off.’
    ‘Come on, admit it. He was a bit of all right.’
    ‘If you say so,’ said Margaret, forcing herself not to smile at her irrepressible sister.
    ‘Come on Mags. Things can’t be so bad that you don’t notice a good-looking bloke.’
    ‘You’d be amazed. My boss got shot. I shot an unarmed man. My job looks like it could be all over. I might be up in court. And now this. I’ve no time to be checking out the talent.’
    ‘OK. Maybe things are that bad.’
    Mags looked at her. ‘Are you taking the piss?’
    ‘No. As a matter of fact, I know how you feel.’
    ‘You’re doing all right, aren’t you?’ said Mags, perplexed.
    ‘You’d be amazed. But I’ll tell you another time. Just let me drive, OK.’
    ‘OK.’
    They hit the slip road for the A3 and Roxie let the car have its head. ‘Nice,’ she said, the wind whipping her hair round her face.
    ‘You have heard of speed cameras haven’t you?’ said Margaret. ‘I don’t need a summons.’
    ‘Bright yellow things on poles, like this one coming up,’ Roxie laughed, but slowed down nevertheless. ‘See sis, no problem,’ as they passed it. ‘Now who did you shoot?’
    Margaret told her what had gone down, Utter’s death and her shooting of an unarmed man. Instead of the shock she had expected, Roxie said. ‘Shooting’s great though isn’t it. What a buzz.’
    ‘What do you know about shooting?’ asked Margaret.
    More than I can tell you, thought Roxie, remembering Tony’s body lying on the shop floor back in Spain. Wonder if they’ve found it yet. With the weather the way it had been, it would’ve gone off pretty quickly, and that would bring the neighbours nosing about. ‘Loads,’ she replied. ‘When I was on the cruise ships after I first left England, we used to go into the Gulf of Mexico, stopped off in New Orleans. Before the hurricane of course. Smashing place. I cried when I saw what happened on TV. Had some great nights there. Met a bloke. A real cowboy. Pick-up truck, alligator skin boots, check shirt, the whole nine yards. Looked like that geezer who sang Achy Breaky Heart , remember him? A real hunk. Crazy about guns. Had a load of them back at his shack. Well, actually it was a penthouse. He had money. Took me out on the range. Shooting range that is. Taught me to shoot. Made me wet I can tell you. Then one weekend we flew up to Vegas, and we went out machine gun shooting in the desert. Blowing up cars and all sorts. Made me even wetter if you know what I mean. After that, we hardly left the room the rest of the time we were there,’ said Roxie absent-mindedly, thinking back to those days.
    ‘Yuck, little sis. I don’t want to know – too much information ,’ said Mags.
    ‘But fun,’ said Roxie as she dropped a gear and overtook a truck.
    ‘Slow down,’ said Margaret. ‘This can’t be far from where Monty had the accident.’
    ‘You want to look?’
    ‘Someone should. I mean, someone who’s not the police.’
    ‘OK, but it’s a bit morbid.’
    ‘I’m feeling morbid.’
    ‘That’s why I wanted to get out of the house. It’s grim in