Emory answered the door to find Jeff and Virginia on his parents’ doorstep. “Hi guys.”
Jeff smirked when he saw Emory’s outdated, lumberjack apparel. “Are we chopping wood today?”
“I didn’t bring any clean clothes with me,” Emory explained. “Hang on. Let me just grab my stuff.”
As Emory was about to shut the door, Jeff put a hand up to block it. “Hold on, Paul Bunyan. I have to go to the bathroom.”
Emory hesitated while he debated denying him entry. He felt their situation had already gotten too personal, but he couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse to keep him from the bathroom. “Fine. Come in.”
Jeff and Virginia entered, and their eyes wasted little time soaking everything in. “Nice place,” said Virginia. “Cozy.”
Emory looked to Jeff, awaiting a smart remark, but all he said was, “Bathroom.”
“Oh.” Emory pointed to a hallway at the other end of the living room. “On your right.”
After Jeff left them alone, Virginia said, “This is quite a little town you have here.”
Emory told her, “It’s not mine anymore.”
“Pretty, but I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for you growing up here.”
“What do you mean?”
She ran her fingers across the afghan thrown over the back of the couch. “Small towns have their charms, but the warm smiles and open arms too easily turn to snarls and closed fists for those who don’t fit in.”
“Okay,” Emory said as if he didn’t get her meaning, although he knew where she was heading.
She held up her right hand toward him and caressed the air as if she were tracing the outline of his face. “Your facial structure. The high cheekbones and your eyes and hair. You’re Native-American – half, I’d imagine. Given the area you grew up in, I’d guess Cherokee.”
Emory’s shoulders relaxed when he realized he had been wrong about where she was going. “My birth mother’s side. You’re very perceptive. I’ve always been pale – a trait from my father – so most people don’t pick up on it. But you’re wrong about Barter Ridge. Even if they did know about that, I doubt I would’ve had any problems related to it. I don’t think small towns are really like that anymore.”
Virginia shrugged. “What do I know. I’m originally from Atlanta.”
Her dismissiveness gave Emory the distinct feeling that she was keeping him occupied as a distraction. He glanced toward the hallway. “I wonder what’s keeping Jeff.”
Virginia whispered, “I think he had to go number two.”
Emory wasn’t buying it. He stepped into the hallway and noticed the bathroom door wasn’t closed. He eyed Virginia from beneath a furrowed brow and went to investigate. He found Jeff inside his old bedroom, sitting on the bed and playing with Sophie. “What are you doing?”
Jeff flashed him a guilt-free smile. “You think I was going to pass up an opportunity to see where you were reared?” He stood and looked around the room. “Key points of information about who you are as an adult can be revealed from a visit to your childhood bedroom. From this room, I can see why you’re so high-strung.”
“What do you mean?” Emory scanned the room for how he would reach such a conclusion. “I’m not high-strung.”
“Okay, Stradivarius, why is there no fun in this room? Where are the toys? Where are the posters of your celebrity crushes?”
“I didn’t have any. Now can we go?”
Jeff gave Sophie a final pat on the butt before heading to the door. On their way out, Emory grabbed the denim jacket and the trash bag of dirty clothes from the living room, prompting a laugh from Jeff. He nodded to the jacket, along with the clothes Emory was wearing. “So did you fancy yourself a cowboy when you were younger?”
“They were Christmas presents. I didn’t pick them out.” Emory shooed them out of the house.
The three investigators piled into Virginia’s car – she in the driver seat, Jeff in the passenger seat and Emory centered in back. As she was about to start the car, she asked, “Guys, where are we going?”
“Good question.” Jeff looked at Emory through the rearview mirror.
Emory replied, “Knoxville. I need to get my car.”
Jeff laughed. “We’re not going back to Knoxville right now. We just got here.” He pointed to Virginia and himself. “We’re going to investigate this case. You’re welcome to join us.”
Emory shook his head. “I can’t work with civilians on a murder case.”
“Then get out,” Jeff told him. “We’ll come back for you when we’re done.”
Grabbing the door handle, Emory hesitated. He couldn’t let this cocky PI get a full day’s worth of investigation ahead of him. Besides, he needed more information about his relationship with Pristine. “Fine. I’ll go with you, but I’ll conduct my investigation separately.”
Jeff rolled his eyes. “Whatever. We need a place to start. Do you have an explanation yet for Rick Roberts?”
Emory responded, “I can’t comment on that.”
Jeff whirled around to face the stubborn man in the back seat. “Seriously? I know you can’t claim the reward, but we can. I promised to stay out of your way. The least you could do is be a little more Wiki with the information so we don’t all spend the day spinning our wheels.”
As Jeff stared at him, Emory became transfixed by his crystal green eyes, and his fortitude quaked. Why does he have to be so beautiful? Emory’s lips cracked apart to say, “Potassium permanganate.”
Jeff looked at Virginia, who wasted no time pulling her phone from her purse and researching the chemical compound.
Since the cat was out of the bag, Emory decided to tell them what he knew. “It was delivered through his tea, and it reacted with the stomach acid to cause the fire.”
Virginia found some information online, which she started reading aloud. “Potassium permanganate is commonly used to wash carbon dioxide, which is used to make—”
All three finished the sentence, “Mineral water.”
Jeff slapped the dashboard. “To the water factory.”
“No, we can’t go now,” Emory told them. “It’s closed today for Britt’s funeral.”
“Even better! We’ll have free reign.” He gave a nod to Virginia. “Let’s go.”
Emory grabbed his shoulder. “We’re not going to break in.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’d rather go when Victor’s not looking over my shoulder. I know he’s the client, but I haven’t ruled him out as a suspect.”
Virginia took her hands off the gear shift with it still in the park position. “Guys, figure it out. I don’t want to sit here all day listening to you bicker.”
Emory insisted, “It’s illegal.”
“You’re an investigator. Logic trumps legal. We have a murder weapon that probably came from that building, and if it did, whoever wielded that weapon more than likely works there. Maybe there’s something in that factory that would connect the murder weapon with the murderer. If so, we could catch him today before he has a chance to strike again. Isn’t that a good enough reason to work around the law just a smidge?”
Emory countered, “It’s not a smidge. It’s utterly and completely breaking the law.”
“Emory, do you want to solve the case or not? Virginia and I are going today, so if you don’t want to be part of that, I suggest you get out of the car now.”
“I just can’t.” Emory again grabbed the door handle, but this time, he opened the door and put one foot out.
“Wait!” Jeff jumped out of the car and blocked him from getting out. “I have an idea. How about this: When we get there, you hang out in the car with Virginia for a minute without looking at the building. After a couple of minutes, get out and go try the front door, which I’ll have unlocked by then. When it opens, you just assume that someone forgot to lock it, or you claim you didn’t know the place was closed today.”
Emory shook his head. “That’s ridiculous.”
“You’ve been there. They don’t keep the front door locked during the day. You’ll have plausible deniability, and Virginia and I will corroborate it.”
Emory brought his foot back inside and closed the door without saying anything. “Just drop me off at the sheriff’s station.”
“Fine, but the factory’s on the way, so we’re going there first. Jeff returned to his seat, giving Virginia the go-ahead to drive.
While Jeff and Virginia discussed the details of their planned break-in, Emory thought about the information Scot had given him. If Jeff really is friends with Pristine, they might’ve cooked up this scheme to get Britt’s money. He could be sabotaging the investigation at every turn. Is that why he’s sticking close to me? Is he setting me up?
Emory brought up another reason the break-in was a bad idea. “What about video surveillance? Are you going to bypass that somehow?”
“What kind of detective are you?” asked Jeff. “Didn’t you notice there were no video cameras anywhere? At least there weren’t from the lobby to Victor’s office.”
Emory corrected him, “I’m a special agent.”
“Well, special agent, in my line of work, we notice details like that.”
“So do thieves.” Emory turned his eyes to the window to keep from looking at Jeff in the rearview mirror. He saw a pink laptop on the seat beside him and realized it looked familiar. He held it up for Jeff to see. “Is this Britt’s laptop?”
Jeff took a breath. “Yes.”
“I thought you were going to return it.”
“I am. I just haven’t had a chance.”
“Now my finger prints are on it.” Emory put it back on the seat and began wiping it with his sleeve. “I can’t believe I’m sitting in a car next to stolen evidence.”
“Oh my god!” Jeff yelled. “Look, would returning it now get you off my back?”
“You can’t return it now. The funeral—”
“Virginia, what time is the funeral?”
“Two this afternoon.”
“Good. They’re probably still at the house, and it’s on the way to the water factory.” Jeff looked at Emory through the rearview mirror. “Problem solved.”
“How is the problem solved? We can’t go to the house on the day they’re burying a family member.”
“We won’t. I’ll text Ian now and ask him to ride his bike down to the road so I can give it to him. Victor will never know.”
Jeff texted Ian, who responded right away that he would meet them. Once they neared the driveway, Ian was indeed there on his bike waiting for them. Without looking around, Jeff told Emory, “If you don’t want anyone else to know that you’re aware Britt’s laptop was in our possession, you better duck down now.” Emory complied. When the car stopped, Jeff exited with the laptop and closed the door.
“What’s going on?” Emory asked.
Virginia covered her mouth with her hand. “Jeff just handed him back the laptop, and now they’re talking about something.”
“About what?”
“I’m not a lip-reader.”
A moment later, Jeff returned to the car and shuddered. “I hate to say this, but that kid has a real Damien Thorn vibe going on.”
Still crouched behind the seat, Emory asked, “What do you mean?”
“He asked all about how Rick Roberts died, and he wanted details – vivid details, like he was into it or something.”
Virginia drove back onto the road. “Boys are like that, aren’t they? It’s all the torture porn movies and zombie shows. Nothing’s gruesome anymore.”
“Well, he creeped my shit.”
Emory arose from the back seat. “You think he’s a suspect?”
“Oh come on.” Virginia chuckled. “He’s a little kid.”
“You know I don’t cross anyone off my suspect list until I have undeniable proof of their innocence.” Jeff pointed to the back seat with his thumb. “Not even Mr. TBI Special Agent back there.”
“Me?” Emory asked. “Why am I a suspect?”
“You weren’t until I found out you’re from this town. For all I know, you knew the victims and had some kind of vendetta against them.”
“Fair enough,” Emory conceded.
Virginia asked, “But why would Ian want to kill his sister?”
Jeff answered, “Planning ahead. With her out of the way, he’ll have everything when he turns eighteen instead of just half the family fortune.”
“I can’t argue with that.” Emory gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. “I almost forgot, you said you were in an accident last night?”
“Oh yeah. I caught some guy watching the office last night, and I chased him in my car. By the time I caught up with him, he had put spike strips on the road. Now my car’s in the shop.”
“Do you think it was related to the case?”
“A case, maybe. We have other ongoing investigations, so who knows.”
A moment later, the factory was in sight. Jeff asked Virginia to pull off the road and into the woods, where the car couldn’t be seen. Once parked, he looked over his shoulder at Emory. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?
“I’m sure.”
“Fine.” Jeff patted the messenger bag at his side, exited the car and ran through the woods toward the factory.
After several moments spent in silence, Emory began fidgeting in his seat.
Hearing the persistent squeak of his pants against the vinyl, Virginia told him, “Don’t worry. Jeff is very resourceful.”
The comment gave Emory an idea. “Pristine Algarotti said something similar about him.”
“She did? That’s odd.”
Emory doubled down. “It didn’t strike me that way. They are friends.”
Virginia raised an eyebrow at his reflection in the mirror and opened her mouth, but what he heard was a double ping. She checked her phone. “I just got an SOS text from Jeff!”
Emory’s phone vibrated in his pocket. “I got it too. What does it mean?”
“It means he’s in trouble.”
“I figured that, but what kind of trouble? Why doesn’t he elaborate?” His eyes returned to the woods, squinting to see the factory through the trees.
“Maybe he can’t.” Virginia unbuckled her seatbelt. “I have to help him.”
“Wait!” Emory paused for a second and sighed. “I’ll go.”