DISCLAIMER: Women's Murder Club and its characters are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
"What in the blue hell Cindy!"
The reporter's head popped up from behind the recliner to find Inspector Lindsay Boxer standing next to the couch, one hand on her hip, the other suspending a tiny pair of lacey black panties from one finger. Cindy's eyes went wide as she took in the underwear, coupled with Lindsay's bemused expression.
"A little risqué for you, I think," Lindsay commented, inspecting them with interest. Cindy jumped up and scrambled over to the inspector, grabbing the offending article quickly.
"I take it my flash drive wasn't under the couch," she said squeakily, face flushed with embarrassment. Lindsay shook her head. "Well um, I'll just go see how Jill's fairing in the kitchen."
The blonde was standing in the doorway shooting Cindy a devilish grin as the redhead stomped up to her, glaring icily.
"I've been looking for those," Jill said smoothly, plucking the panties from Cindy's hand.
"I thought you said you'd gotten everything!" Cindy whispered frantically.
"Everything that was necessary. Underwear doesn't fall into the category of necessary clothing items," Jill replied. Cindy huffed, moving past the attorney. She stopped dead when she reached the counter, staring down at the little black flash drive.
"This wasn't here five minutes ago," she said slowly, turning to face Jill. The blonde looked at her innocently, shrugging a little.
Return to Women's Murder Club Fiction
Return to Main Page