Jeopardy in High Heels (High Heels #12) - Gemma Halliday Page 0,78
yelled something at her in Spanish and slammed it behind her.
I exhaled sharply and slumped down onto my loveseat, my legs giving out.
Mama crossed the room and sat beside me. "Who the heck was that?"
"Long story," I told her. "But thanks. You probably just saved me from becoming a cross-fit rage victim."
She smiled and nodded. "Hey, you don't raise a boy like Jack without learning how to be intimidating at five feet tall." She gave me a wink.
I couldn't help a laugh. I could well imagine my husband as a young hellion.
"Well, hopefully we've seen the last of her," I told Mama, still eyeing the closed door as if Caitlyn might make a return.
"Was she a friend of yours?"
"No. Definitely not a friend."
Mama snorted. "Bicho raro."
I'd never heard her swear before. "Mama!"
She looked confused. "What? It means a weirdo."
"Oh, sure. I knew that." Admittedly, my Spanish was a little rusty.
"You want I make you something to eat before you go?" Mama looked at me hopefully. She would feed the entire world if possible. And normally, I'd never say no to her cooking.
I shook my head. "Thanks, but I should get going. Mom wants me to be at the studio early."
I helped my mother-in-law get the kids' booster seats in her car and showed her the complicated buckling system. Then I grabbed my purse and searched around for my car keys, trying to remember where I'd left them. When it dawned on me where they were, I slapped my hand against my forehead.
Mama Ramirez gave me a funny look. "What is wrong?"
"I don't have a car!"
"What happened to it?"
Eep. "Uh, another long story."
She cocked her head to the side. "You gonna owe me a novel at some point, girl." She paused. "You want me to give you a ride?"
I shook my head. "No, you need to pick up the twins. If I wait until you get back, I'll be too late." I reached for my phone to call an Uber. But as I looked down at the screen, I saw that while I might have forgotten my car-less state, someone else hadn't.
While Caitlyn had been ranting at me, I'd apparently missed a text from Marco.
Fernando and your mom just left for the taping. Mrs. R is swinging by to pick you up.
I wasn't sure if I should be grateful or nervous. Mrs. Rosenblatt was nearsighted, lead-footed, and often relied on her spirit guide to navigate rather than GPS. But, for better or worse, ten minutes later, a horn blared from outside.
I looked out the front window just in time to see Mrs. Rosenblatt's boat-sized El Camino roar up to my curb and screech to a stop less than an inch away from Mama Ramirez's bumper. I called goodbye to my mother-in-law and tried to brace myself for the upcoming ride as I hurried out the door.
Mrs. Rosenblatt beamed at me from behind the wheel. She was wearing a blue muumuu with a smattering of pink flamingos down the front and a matching headband around her russet colored hair. "I've got my Jeopardy! blue on," she said as I slid into the seat beside her. "Trebek will definitely take notice of me in this, don't you think?"
"There's no way he couldn't," I said honestly.
"This car belonged to my fifth husband," Mrs. Rosenblatt explained as she pulled away from the curb, missing my mailbox by a fingernail. "Buck loved big cars. Just listen to that sound. It purrs like a kitten."
The motor rumbled more like an army tank than any fur baby I'd ever known. Mrs. Rosenblatt quickly grew impatient with a car in front of us going the speed limit on the two-lane road. Before I could react, she dodged into the oncoming lane where a truck was bearing down on us. I gave a squeak as she shifted back into our lane ahead of the offending vehicle.
I clasped my hands together in prayer. "Please. I have children!"
"Oh, Maddie, you worry too much," she said cheerfully. "Why, I could drive this car with my eyes closed."
I gripped the doorjamb with sweaty fingers. "Please don't."
"So your mother told me that the police think Doggy Z was murdered. Is that true?"
I nodded. "Ramirez said it's being investigated as a suspicious death." I paused. "But, yeah, he was poisoned. Antifreeze," I told her as she took a sharp left, causing my seat belt to strain against my body.
Mrs. R tsked her tongue. "What a waste. All that talent. Cut down in his prime."