Douglas, Nelson - Midnight Louie 05-Cat in a Diamond Dazzle

The Bloody Glove.

A sensation ensues, while Danny Dove insures that no one touches the glove.

Blessed are the peacemakers.

I stroll away, so satisfied with myself that I decide to investigate another little matter of wearing apparel that has been overlooked by everybody else.

No, it is not my signature shoe--not yet--but it is not far off.

Chapter 33

A Clue to Chew On

Three boots sat on Lieutenant Molina's desk: Fabrizio's pair and the one found among Cheyenne's confiscated possessions after his death.

"Why didn't you mention your boot?" she asked Temple.

"I didn't know whose it was, or that it was related to the case."

"You found it during a rehearsal."

"Dozens and dozens of people use the downstairs dressing rooms for the hotel revue. I had no reason to suspect the boot was related to the Incredible Hunk pageant."

"What about the large size?"

"Showgirls are all treetop tall, with shoe sizes to match."

"You thought this was a woman s boot?"

"Pretty likely, given the glitzy design. Unless they're Country-Western stars, most men prefer something a tad more conservative. And, as I said before, tall women wear big shoes, and every Vegas hotel dressing room is crammed with tall women."

"Even darling Clementine only wore number nine," Molina pointed out, glaring like a prosecuting attorney.

Temple kept silent, struck by the eerie coincidence: Molina citing the same folk song that Temple had remembered when finding the boot. She wondered what size shoe Molina wore. Ten, she would bet.

That "only" had given the great detective away.

"The boot you found is exactly like these three?" Molina said.

"Yes ..."

"Why do you hesitate?"

"I want to be precisely accurate. The boot I found was different in one respect. Some rhinestones were missing from the heel. Maybe that was why it was tossed."

"Defective," Molina commented, biting her lip thoughtfully. "Who would have gotten rid of it?"

"Cheyenne, obviously. It was his pair of boots. He must have been rushing to get onstage and dumped it as he went past the costume rack."

"Thrown out for a few missing rhinestones?"

Temple shrugged.

"I'll get you back to the Phoenix. I want that boot. It belongs with the evidence."

Temple couldn't argue about that, which often made being with Lieutenant Molina no fun.

Kit and Electra, however, had fun riding in the back of Molina's Caprice, which was roomy enough for three. Kit and Electra discussed changing genres from historical romance to contemporary romantic suspense, just so they could use the "atmosphere" in their next books.

Temple thought the atmosphere left much to be desired.

Once at the Crystal Phoenix, Kit and Electra returned to convention events. Temple escorted Lieutenant Molina downstairs to her humble dressing room.

"The boot is with my theatrical stuff," she explained as Molina ducked to enter the curtained cubicle.

"In the bag."

"Big enough, isn't it?" Molina eyed the duffel bag.

And then the bag stirred.

"Don't tell me they have cockroaches down here!" Temple said, peering at her property.

Molina didn't waste time looking, but crouched down to jerk the unzipped top wide open.

Midnight Louie sprawled blinking in the brighter light, his forepaws wrapped cunningly around Cheyenne's boot.

"I've never had evidence contaminated by cat drool before," Molina said sardonically. "Good kitty.

Give me the boot."

Temple could have told her she was taking the wrong tack with Midnight Louie. "Good kitty" didn't cut it. As Molina reached to tug the boot away, Louie's paws tightened in possession. He curled his back feet around it, kicking, and began gnawing the rhinestone-covered heel again.

"Come on!" Molina got her fingers on the heel and tugged. "Ouch." Her blue eyes glared over her shoulder as she appealed to Temple. "Your cat almost bit me!"

"No, he didn't. Your hand got in the way while he was chewing on the heel."

"A pathetically weak defense for obvious assault and battery, and why would he chew the heel anyway?"

"It's leather, which smells good to cats."

"Probably reminds them of prey. Come on!" Molina fought Louie again for the boot, earning a low, fierce growl that made her jerk her hand away.

"You get it," she ordered Temple, standing up. "If he bites anyone and breaks the skin, he'll be quarantined for rabies."

Temple hastened to take Molina's place beside the bag, then grabbed the boot-top and tugged.

Midnight Louie put all his twenty pounds into keeping it.

Temple tugged again, hard, so hard that she fell back on her rear when the boot suddenly came free.

She held the boot up to the light. "Here's the spot that's missing rhines tones."

Molina cocked her head. "So I see, but I still don't see why the victim threw it away. Hand it up; I'll take back to headquarters so it's with the other effects." She frowned as she accepted custody.

"Sure is garish, and poorly made if the rhinestones flaked off so readily; maybe the victim was right to toss it."

Temple stood slowly, still aching from her last tango with Fabrizio. "No, the Four Queens said it was expensive. Rhinestones aren't cheap anymore, Lieutenant."

"The Four Queens? Some colorful romance-writing team, no doubt, or a quartet of pose-down girls?"

"Neither. The lead showgirls here at the Phoenix. I asked them if the boot belonged to anyone in the revue, but they said no."

"Bad taste is not necessarily cheap. Look, the heel has even been put on crooked."

Temple looked, and then she looked down at Louie, who was raptly licking his own foot leather. "Let me see that boot!"

Molina wasn't used to taking orders from civilians, but she dubiously handed over the boot.

"This heel was perfectly placed when I last saw the boot." Temple turned the boot in her hand. The heel definitely did not sit squarely to the sole anymore. She had the glimmer of an idea. "Those crystals in Cheyenne's medicine pouch, what were they like?"

"White crystals, like all the New Agers wear." Molina frowned. "Only they were much smaller and not oblong."

"Pointed on the bottom, like unset rhinestones?"

Molina's face reflected a dawning suspicion that still lay well below the horizon line of logic.

Temple grabbed the boot-heel--the rhinestone studding felt porcupine-prickly--and twisted. Ick.

Cool drool from Louie's boot-licking wet her palm.

But something clicked, both in Molina's mind and in the boot. The lieutenant was reaching for the boot when Temple's efforts paid off. The heel twisted 180 degrees askew, releasing a shower of small white stones that flashed out and rained to the floor.

"Holy shit! Shut that thing!" Molina knelt and cupped her hands under the dazzling drizzle, until her palms filled with tiny glittering drops.

Temple snapped the heel back into place, then dove for the dressing table.

"Here's a makeup tin cover."

Temple held it under Molina's hands, which separated. Glitzy hail drummed the metal until Molina's hands had emptied, except for a few sparkling stones that stuck to her moist skin.

She picked them off, one by one, like priceless burrs.

Temple was on hands and knees by then, crawling over the floor to corral the first few stones that had bounced away.

"I'll send technicians over for an official search," Molina said, rising with the literal booty. "Get off the floor and tell me what and why and how you knew."

"I'm not sure," Temple said, dusting off her hands. "It just came to me."

"Something must have triggered your instincts, so think."

Temple leaned against the dressing table, gazing down at the shallow lid afloat with Austrian-crystal brilliance. Cut and uncut diamonds by the carat.