Who Creamed Peaches, Anyway?

by Stevi Mittman

• ISBN13: 9780373881505
• ISBN10: 0373881509
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2008-01-08
• Publisher: Harlequin

Summary

Teddi usually ignored Drew Scoones's warnings to stay out of his cases...After all, who in her right mind would give up steamy post-arrest debriefing sessions with Detective "Swoons"? But when Drew's partner is accused of murdering Peaches Lipschitz--aka the "Hooker Housewife"--the department promptly takes Drew off the case. Now he's looking at a major lifestyle change and finally doing the one thing that really rattles Teddi... proposing marriage!So "Long Island's Most Dangerous Decorator" is doing the impossible: "breaking up" with Drew to investigate on her own...and making her snobbish mother happy for the first time ever. And she's finding that slipping Drew clues undercover is as hot--and dangerous--as revealing Peaches' secret clientele. But Drew isn't going to stay sidelined for long--or let one irresistible interior decorator get away scot-free....

Excerpts

Setting the mood in your house is more than just a matter of furniture. Lighting and music can change your room from calm to wild, from funereal to party-ready. Baking bread says "come on in."TipsFromTeddi.comThe parking lot outside L. I. Lanes, the bowling alley I just finished redecorating, is dark and cold. It's almost midnight and a couple of the streetlights are blinking furiously, trying to illuminate the parking area, but they aren't up to the job. As far as I can tell, there's no moon and no stars. Inside, there's a party going on to celebrate the "Grand Reopening" and the music is loud. It's cold, I'm tired, and I should just take my bow and, basking in the kudos, go home and crawl into my bed.Only, there was this phone call...Which is why I've raced out here to the icy parking lot after my on again/off again boyfriend, Homicide Detective Drew Scoones, wearing ridiculously high heels that only an idiot or a hooker would wear in this weather. I must have been crazy letting my thirteen-year-old daughter, Dana, doll me up for this party so that Drew would realize how hot I am, so that he'd say, "Teddi, I want you and I'll accept you on your terms." These include not pressuring me into a second marriage mistake, accepting that my children have to come first, and forgiving me the mother from hell.That's what I'd like him to say. Only what he actually says is, "Damn it, Teddi! Let go of the car." He's using his I-am-the-police-and-you-must-obey-the-law voice. He should know better, but it looks like he expects me to just let go of the door handle and back away. This, even though the phone call I heard was from Hal Nelson, Drew's partner, calling about someone named Peaches Lipschitz possibly being murdered.Sounds juicy, no? The phone call, I mean. Not Peaches. Except for the couple of times when he thought he was rescuing me from the very jaws of death, I've never seen Drew so rattled. Rattled enough, I think, to actually pull out of the parking lot with me hanging on to the door handle of his little blue Mazda RX7 as he goes.Discretion being the better part of valor, I let go. Heck, I've got the keys to my own car in my pocket and how hard can it be to just follow Drew to this Peaches' place? As dark as it is, I'm pretty confident I can tail him without being noticed.After all, I've learned from a master.Him.Maybe if it hadn't sounded like Peaches was dead. Or maybe if it wasn't that Hal--who I dislike intensely--appears to be involved. Then I could just let him go, do his job and hear the details later. I mean, having redecorated the whole bowling alley cum billiards parlor, I wouldn't mind hanging around for a few compliments.Only, the thing is, I've gotten pretty good at this detective stuff and if I've learned anything from my close association with Detective Drew Scoones--besides where my own G-spot is hidden--it's that the first twenty-four hours after a murder are crucial to solving the case. It's that 24/24 rule that Drew is always talking about--the last twenty-four hours the victim was alive and the first twenty-four after she's been killed.And I'm not missing out.Maybe Drew is right. Maybe I am becoming a homicide junkie. But examining my psyche while trying to tail Drew like a pro is probably not the best idea I've ever had. And, trust me on this, I've had some other not best ideas in my time. And my time starts way before my first client died and I met Drew. All the way back to Husband Number One. Now there was a really, really not best idea.Anyway, thirty minutes and a trip down motive lane later, Drew pulls into the driveway of a well-kept, two-story split-level in a nice neighborhood in New Hyde Park. I'm a half block behind him. I figure that's a safe enough distance for me to stop. I pull over to the curb and cut my engine. Drew gets out of his car and sends a glare in my direction which says that I didn't fool him fo