After convincing Jeff that he was okay to get behind the wheel, Emory peeked at his reflection in the rearview mirror and groaned at what he saw – bloodshot eyes, blotchy face and hair matted to his head. “I look like afterbirth.”
“Now that’s disgusting.” Jeff gave him the once-over. “Not untrue, but disgusting.”
Emory started the car. “Thanks.”
“It’s not your fault. I guess the shower didn’t take.” Jeff chuckled and patted Emory on the shoulder. “I’m just kidding. I don’t think you could look bad if you tried. And you’re certainly trying.”
Emory couldn’t keep the corners of his mouth from perking up. “Kick me when I’m down.”
“I’m done now.” Jeff scooted his seat back. “So this medical examiner friend of yours will test everything we have for drugs and keep it a secret for you?”
“She would if I asked.”
“Good. You definitely don’t want the TBI to find out you took drugs.”
Emory slapped the steering wheel. “I didn’t take drugs. I was drugged. And she’s not going to have to keep it a secret because I’m obligated to report it.”
“Are you crazy? There’s no proof you didn’t take it willingly.”
Emory patted his chest. “There’s my word.”
“Are you sure that’s enough?”
“Of course it is.”
“You know, sometimes doing the right thing is the wrong thing to do.”
Emory waved a finger at him. “I’m not going to be a disciple of your fuzzy morality.”
“Just think of this then: If it is in the water, how are you going to explain where you got it?”
“What do you mean? I’ll tell the truth. It came from the Algarotti factory.”
“But you got it from me.”
“And you got it from the factory.”
“Don’t you see? You just have my word for that and, at least with your people, mine doesn’t carry the weight of yours. There’s no proof that I didn’t drug it myself.”
“I’ll back you. Oh…” Emory pinched his lips together. “They’ll know you broke into the factory because it was closed that day.”
Jeff shrugged off that concern. “I’ll just say that I got it the day before.”
“You can’t do that. The date could prove important.”
They were silent in thought for a moment until Jeff snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it. I’ll say I went through the back door, which was open, right?”
“Why would you’ve gone in back?”
“I wanted to check out the cool spring behind the factory. I saw the back door was open, so I made a natural assumption that the factory was open. Instead of going all the way back to the front…There’s the story.”
“No matter what, you always find a workaround.”
“What’s wrong with that? Besides, it’s the least I could do to help you out.” Jeff smirked at him. “Especially after that kiss you gave me.”
“What?” Emory’s face blanked as the memory flashed back to him. “I was under the influence.”
“You can’t use that excuse. If you had gotten behind the wheel and hit someone, you would’ve been responsible for your actions. You couldn’t say it didn’t count because you were under the influence.”
“If I weren’t responsible for intoxicating myself, I wouldn’t be responsible for any of my actions resulting from it. Whoever drugged me would be.”
Jeff crossed his arms and looked forward. “Now who’s found a workaround?”
Emory ignored the question in favor of a subject that had been nagging at him. “I’ve got to know something.”
“What is it?”
“Are you friends with Pristine Algarotti?”
“Who told you that?”
“That doesn’t matter. Is it true?”
Jeff uncrossed his arms and fidgeted in his chair before bringing his right foot up to rest on his left knee. “We’re not friends, but I did know her before.”
Finally, the truth! “How did you know her?”
“She’s a former client – one of my first.” Jeff widened his eyes in a classic move to appear more innocent. “You need to know I’m not happy about this, but when I started, I took any client I could get my hands on, regardless of what the investigation entailed. Hell, if I’m being completely honest, I still do today, but I’m trying to quit.”
“What was the job?”
Jeff shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Pristine wanted to marry a rich man, so she hired me to find one for her.”
Emory’s mouth opened, but his next words came as a delayed reaction. “Are you saying that you got her and Victor together?”
“Yes, although Victor doesn’t know that. He had never met me before you and I went to his office the other day.”
Emory hit the steering wheel. “I knew she was lying when she told me she married him for love.”
“There’s more.” Jeff’s gaze fell to the floor. “Besides being rich, Pristine’s only criterion was, in her words, ‘Someone I could stomach looking at in bed.’ She didn’t necessarily care if the man was single. She wanted me to widen the pool by including men who could be…stolen.” He took a deep breath. “I came up with a list, including pictures. Victor was on the list because I knew his wife didn’t have long—”
“Oh my god.” Emory gasped.
“I know. I know. I guess I just validated your opinion of PIs.”
“No,” Emory replied, but his tone was unconvincing. “So how did you manage to get them together?”
“That was a little tough. I had to figure out a good way for them to meet that wouldn’t appear like she was after him. Since Victor has absolutely no social life whatsoever, the best way for them to meet, outside of a car accident, was through work. The only opening the water factory had was for a communications coordinator – someone to give tours, update their website and other stuff like that. I fixed her resume to state that she was a highly effective coordinator at a brewery, where I had a friend who would serve as a reference and confirm that she had been employed there for three years.”
“Why? What was Pristine’s real job?”
“She was a waitress. Anyway, she got the job at the Algarotti factory, and that was the extent of my work with her until I got the call from Victor’s assistant for this job.” Jeff paused, perhaps waiting for Emory to say something. “I hate what I did, and I would never do something like that today. I swear to you, I only want to take good cases – ones with a good purpose.” He let out a laugh. “Maybe I should run any potential cases by you first. You could be my sounding board.”
Emory wasn’t amused, keeping his eyes on the road and off Jeff. “I can’t be your Jiminy Cricket. Besides, who am I to judge?”
Cathy Shaw removed her latex gloves as she dictated her final comments concerning the autopsy she had just performed. “COD: traumatic injury to the frontal lobe caused by impact with the dashboard. Failure of airbag deployment a major contributing factor.” She told the cadaver before pulling the sheet over his face, “Your family is about to come into some serious money.”
“Cathy.”
She looked over her shoulder to see who had called her. “Emory!” She rushed to give him a hug but stopped just short, putting her hands up instead of around him. “I should wash my hands first.” She stepped over to the sink. “So good to see you in person. I like the outfit, by the way.”
“Thanks…” Emory didn’t admit the clothes weren’t his.
As Cathy dried her hands, she noticed he wasn’t alone. “Who’s this?” she asked with an amorous smile. Jeff grinned and told her his name.
“Really nice to meet you, Jeff. You know, with that cut on your lip, you’ve got a real rough-pretty thing going on.”
“Well thank you. And you can thank Emory for the busted lip.”
Emory explained, “He’s a private investigator working the same case as us.”
“Oh? Where is Wayne?”
“You know he doesn’t work weekends.”
“Must be nice. I work so many hours, I’m developing Stockholm syndrome for my boss. So do you have another body for me?”
“I do,” Emory responded. “Mine.”
Cathy glanced at Jeff and back at Emory. “I don’t understand.”
“I was drugged last night, maybe with MDMA.”
Cathy threw a hand to her mouth. “Oh my god. Are you okay?”
“I am now. Jeff helped me get through it.”
“How did it happen?”
“We’re not totally sure,” answered Jeff, holding up a cloth bag containing the items that might have been tainted. “Here are the most likely delivery methods.” He placed the bag on a table and pulled the bottled water from it. “My money’s on this.” He gazed into Cathy’s eyes like a mesmerist. “Listen, Cathy, is there any way you can keep this quiet – just report back to Emory.”
“That’s not necessary,” Emory insisted.
Jeff threw up his palm to Emory but kept his eyes on Cathy. “At least until he has a chance to think about reporting it himself?”
Cathy fell under Jeff’s spell. “With those eyes, I bet you get away with murder.”
“Jeff, seriously, I’m submitting a complete report. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
Jeff shrugged. “Fine. I hope you’re right.”
“I need your hair.” Cathy pulled her vision from Jeff to look at Emory. “I mean your hair, Emory. A few strands plucked to test for toxins, poisons.”
“What about the items we brought?” Emory asked.
“If I know exactly what you took, it’ll be easier to look for that specific drug in these.” She began taking the items from the bag. “Ooh, gin. Someone had a party and didn’t invite me.”
Emory plucked some hair from his head. “No party. Just us.”
Cathy looked at both of them and grinned.
As Emory turned the ignition in his car, Jeff entered the passenger side and handed him the bottle of pills he had removed from the bag. “Here you go. I took them out.”
“Why’d you do that?”
“There’s no need to have them tested unless she doesn’t find anything in the other things we brought her. I’d still get a new prescription.”
Emory nodded. “Thank you.”
“So where to next?”
Emory was about to answer him when he heard chiming from his phone. It had died the previous night and was now charging on the arm rest between them.
“Damn, you missed a lot of calls.”
Emory checked his call log. “It’s Mom. I wonder what’s wrong.” He called his voicemail, and Lula Mae’s shaky voice played over his car’s speakers.
“Emory, it’s your mama. Something happened with your dad. He was attacked, and he’s at the hospital. I need you here.”
Other than a gasp, Emory froze in his seat.
Jeff popped out of the vehicle and hurried to the driver side, opening the door. “Get out,” he ordered. “I’ll drive.” Jeff helped him out of the car to the passenger side and sped through the ninety-minute drive to Barter Ridge in an hour.