Mia checked her watch as she drove away from Burton’s house. It was a little after eleven o’clock. Probably too early. She glanced in the rear view mirror. She’d seen the car almost as soon as she’d pulled out of Burton’s drive way. Whoever it was, they didn’t care much that she knew they were there. They were either sloppy or arrogant but either way they were almost surely some rent-a-cop hired by her mother to watch over her.
She sighed heavily. No use in trying to lose them. Maybe it would even be helpful to have backup tonight. Mia shifted onto I-85 southbound heading to Midtown. All the parties she needed to go to wouldn’t even start for another couple of hours. Might as well set up at an all-night coffee shop and load up on caffeine until it was time.
It made her smile to think of how easy Burton had been. In some ways, it was almost as if he’d expected her, although surely that wasn’t likely. But even he had to admit her idea was a good one. Or, even if it sounded crazy on the face of it, it still felt right. Else why didn’t he put up more of an argument?
There was something about the way he reacted to her suggestion that made her think a part of him had been waiting for this all along—a way to put things right with his partner, a way to assimilate how he felt about how it all went down. Why else would he quit his job?
Mia gripped the steering wheel and smiled. This bloody “gift” didn’t have many benefits, it was true. But one of the main things it did have was the ability to lead the witness to certain conclusions that they would never, normally, have come to on their own. What she had felt in Jack was a longing, an irrepressible, indefatigable desire, to fix a problem he couldn’t even define, let alone address.
That’s where I come in, she thought smugly. Mia and her handy curse-slash-gift to help you with what you didn’t even know was wrong. And in this case, helping you with your problem dovetails nicely with helping me. She put her turn signal on before pulling onto North Avenue toward Georgia Tech.
The car following her probably appreciated the heads-up.
She found a place to park near a strip of bars and clubs that didn’t look too deserted. Not that she was worried. Not with her bodyguards somewhere in the background struggling to find a decent parking spot and not lose her. She locked the car and walked quickly, her car keys in her hand, her finger on the panic button, to the first bar. It was loud and full of students which made her relax a little. She moved through the scrum of bodies to the bar and ordered a red-eye.
“We don’t have no ex-presso machine,” the bartender said. He was a young man, possibly a student himself.
“Fine,” Mia said, seating herself at the bar. “Just coffee then.”
The young man shrugged and went off to make a pot of coffee. Mia pulled out the business card and looked at it again. No wonder Burton didn’t talk much. He’s probably still pulling his jaw off the floor. The image made her smile. She took out her smartphone ear phones from her purse and plugged into her music. A quick glance at the phone screen confirmed the time was getting on. She glanced around the bar, wondering if some of these kids were waiting, too. It occurred to her that if she found a contact now, she might conclude her business and be on her way home and skip the warehouse rave or whatever party she hoped to find.
She scanned the crowd. Most of the patrons were chugging beers at crowded two and three high-top tables. She was annoyed with herself that she’d forgotten to look for her tail when they came in. It would be just her luck to ask her own tail if they knew where she could score drugs. Assuming they were off-duty police, which was likely, that would probably not end well.
A scruffy looking young man caught her eye in the corner of the bar. He sat alone as if he were waiting for someone. She watched him for a moment and decided he was watching everyone else in the place. He didn’t look like a drug dealer, but then what do they look like? At least he didn’t look like an undercover cop either. But, of course, that’s what undercover cops are going for.
When her coffee came, she put a ten on the bar and gathered up her purse. She walked purposely to the man and sat down at his table as if he were expecting her. When he looked at her without any surprise at all, she knew she’d pegged him correctly.
“I need to buy some Ecstasy,” she said, primly, setting her coffee mug down on the table.
He wasn’t bad looking, she decided. Older than she’d originally guessed from across the room. Dark hair, possibly Hispanic, with bright blue, but wary, eyes.
“How much?” he said softly.
“Just enough for me,” she said. “Do they come in pills?”
His eyes fluttered a bit as if in amusement or surprise at her question, but he nodded.
“Is there a minimum purchase or can I just buy one?”
“You into experimenting?”
“Something like that. How much for one pill?”
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small paper packet which he put on his lap under the table. Without taking his eyes off her or dropping his smile, he extricated a single pill and held out his hand as if to shake. Mia grasped his hand and felt the hard knot of the pill being pressed into it.
“My compliments,” he said. “Enjoy. Now please to go.”
Mia was on her feet, her hand clenched around the pill. “Thank you very much,” she said breathlessly, and turned to go.
“Hello, baby?” he said to her.
She looked back, fear beginning to inch its way up her spine.
“Your coffee.”
“Oh, yes. Thank you.” She grabbed her coffee mug and moved it to an empty table on her way out the door. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement as two men seated at a table by the door made signs of leaving too.
The next morning, she drove to Dave’s condo from her mother’s house. She intended to move in as soon as her bed was delivered and Dave’s was picked up by AmVets. As it was, she’d make the guest room her bedroom and leave the master bedroom vacant for now.
As soon as she drove into the mixed-use development where Dave’s condo was located, she saw Burton standing outside the storefront window on the first floor of the townhouse. He was peering in the window, both hands holding jumbo coffee cups, the little Maltese mix on a leash by his feet. The moment made her smile. Even if he only came to tell her he wasn’t staying, just the sight of him—complete with the coffee…just like Castle and Beckett!—gave Mia optimism.
She pulled in next to his Jeep. “Morning, Detective,” she called as she gathered her bags and briefcases from the front seat. “What’s your dog’s name?”
“I’m not staying,” he said.
She bustled past him to open the front door. “That’s fine. I’m sure you have legwork to do while I’m handling paperwork. Is one of those for me?” she turned and plucked a coffee cup from his grip before pushing open the door with her hip.
She’d never been in the store before now and it smelled musty. She flipped on the lights and found a desk wedged up against one wall to drop her bags onto. Dave had obviously used the place for storage. His kayak leaned up against one wall. Several boxes, empty as it turned out, were stacked high against another.
Burton came in behind her.
“The guy from the cable company will be out tomorrow to hook up the router and the phone lines,” Mia said, eyeing Burton and wondering what he thought of the place. He’d unsnapped the leash and now the dog was curled up on a flattened stack of cardboard boxes where it could keep both of them in view. “It’ll just take a few weekends of elbow-grease to get it into shape.”
“If that,” he said, drinking his coffee and looking into one of the empty boxes. Every inch of his curiosity gave her hope that he would agree to the partnership. Her bravado last night notwithstanding, she knew she couldn’t bulldoze him into working with her if he didn’t want to.
She pulled out a large plastic baggie from her briefcase which held the hi-ball glass from Dave’s kitchen. She set it on the desk.
“What’s that?” Burton gave an extremely condescending smile. In fact, millimeters short of a sneer.
“It is a glass I found in my brother’s condo upstairs.”
“You bagged it?”
“You can see that I have and once you’re through acting like an arrogant ass, I’ll explain why. If you’re still interested.”
“Look, Miss Kazmaroff…Mia. It’s not that I don’t want to make things right with how Dave and I…ended. I do. There’s nothing I’d like more, but trying to uncover a murder where there was none is an exercise in futility.”
“What if I were to convince you that he didn’t die of natural causes?”
“How could you do that when the tox screen and the autopsy said otherwise?”
“That wasn’t what I asked you.”
Burton sighed. “Sure. If you can convince me it wasn’t an accident, I’m on board.”
“Excellent. Well, please take a seat, Jack. This may take a moment.” Mia pulled a chair up to the desk and took a drink of her coffee. She placed the glass in the clear bag on the table in front of her. “Do you mind locking the door?” she said, looking up. “So we’re not disturbed?”
Burton paused just a moment before getting up and locking the door and then pulling up a chair. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said.
Mia opened her bag and pulled out a small pillbox. She set it on the desk.
“You are very mysterious, Miss Kazmaroff, I have to say.”
“Not my intention, Jack,” Mia said, opening up the pillbox. She held up a tiny baby blue tinted pill for him to see. “Do you recognize this?”
He frowned and took the pill from her. “Molly,” he said. “Or Ecstasy.” He handed the pill back to her. She took it and popped it into her mouth, washing it down with a swig from a water bottle she pulled out of her purse. When she looked at him, his mouth was hanging open in horror.
“Did you…did I just see…?”
Mia turned and picked up the drinking glass and withdrew it from the bag. “I don’t have this in a bag because I’m trying to preserve fingerprints, Jack. I know your people checked every inch of Dave’s place for prints and found nothing except his.”
“I can’t believe you just did what I think you just did!”
“I know and I have to say having you here is a comfort to me since I’m not exactly sure what to expect from the effects of the pill.”
“Why did you do that?” he bellowed.
“Honestly, I need you to calm down, Jack,” Mia said, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes. “I’m hoping to get an accurate assessment of the effects of this drug and it’s remarkably more difficult when you’re yelling at me.”
A gentle feeling of wellbeing seemed to engulf Mia and she opened her eyes expecting to see a benignly beaming Burton. Instead, she was surprised to see him on his feet, his hands on his hips as if he were preparing to do battle.
“I need an answer, Mia,” he said, breathing heavily. “And I need one right now or I’m walking out that door.”
“No, you’re not,” Mia said, smiling easily at him, her feeling of confidence in him growing by the moment. “I’ve just taken an illegal drug that I have no idea as to the effects on my system. You won’t leave me.” She grinned at his discomfiture and covered her mouth to try to tamp down the burst of laughter that was bubbling up inside her.
Oh! It had been so long since anything made her want to laugh until her sides ached. Just the look on his face made her want to howl with laughter.
“Oh, stop! Stop!” she said, gasping, holding her sides and rocking in her chair. “The look on your face…!” And she rolled around the chair, trying to control herself but really not caring.
“Any time now,” he said sternly, reseating himself. “I’m waiting for an explanation.”
“Yes, yes,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes but reluctant to let the pleasure and the joy go just yet. She straightened up in the chair, careful not to touch anything but the glass. From what she’d read on the Internet, even normal people’s sense of touch was intensified on the drug. A more sensitive reaction to touch was the last thing she needed. With delicate hand movements, she addressed the glass on the desk in front of her but spoke to Burton.
“I have a bizarre and largely handicapping ‘gift,’ Detective,” she said, feeling the effects of the drug course through her body like repetitive waves of pleasure and peace. “Have you ever heard of retrocognition?”
She glanced at him and saw him pull in his shoulders. His face twisted into a scoff.
“ESP?” he said, the derision thick in his voice.
“No,” Mia said. “ESP has to do with knowing something without using any of your five senses. Retrocognition is knowing something specifically through just one sense. For me—and my mother—it’s the sense of touch.”
“Okay.”
“You don’t have to believe me,” she said, amazed that his skepticism wasn’t annoying her as it normally would have. “But it’s true. I can touch something and know who else touched it in the past and even what their mindset was when they did.”
“And you’re going to tell me something about this glass?”
“I’m going to tell us both something,” she said, reaching out and lifting the glass in both hands. “Before this moment, I only knew there was something funny about it that was different from the other glasses.”
“Something funny.”
“That’s right. I could tell it had been handled by a woman…”
“Probably the police tech.”
“Possibly.” Mia smiled. Burton was at least playing along with her. “But it was different from the other glasses. Its contents were also very different.” She put the glass down and sighed and then looked at him with a smile. “I didn’t know until this minute what made the glass different but now I do. It was a vehicle for the drug, Ecstasy. And not just a little bit.” Her smile faded as she looked at the glass. “But an awful lot of it.”
The two of them sat quietly for a moment, not speaking.
“How do you feel?” he asked her finally.
She looked at him. “I’m happy,” she said. “I feel happy.”
He nodded.
“I guess that’s what Dave felt, too. Just before he died. Indescribably happy.” She shrugged. “Not a terrible way to die. Except it wasn’t his idea.”
“The woman who washed the glass, you think?”
She looked up at him and felt the smile coming on again. “You don’t have to patronize me, Jack. I don’t mind if it takes a while for you to wrap your mind around what I can do. I expect that.” She leaned over and touched his wrist. He flinched but didn’t pull away.
“How do you think I know so much about you? Your guilt? Your shame? Your anger?”
“I don’t know. Just by looking at my face, maybe?”
She laughed. “Everything seems funny to me at the moment,” she said. “Even things that I know aren’t funny.” She let go of his hand.
“If what you say is true, does it bother you that your brother had Ecstasy?”
“You mean does it bother me to think he used it to seduce women? Don’t you know it’s okay to love someone in spite of them not being who you wish they were?” She pointed to the glass. “The woman who poisoned that glass wasn’t a victim,” she said. “We need to find her but first we need to confirm what I’ve just discovered.”
Mia stood up and stretched a kink out of her back. She felt like she’d just come back from a long trip. In a way, she had. Ever since she found that glass and knew there was something about it she didn’t understand—something crucial to what happened to Dave—she’d been restless to find the answer.
And now she had.
“You need to ask your friend, the medical examiner, to run a tox screen specifically for Ecstasy on Dave’s blood,” she said, not looking at him.
“I can’t ask for crap any more. I don’t work there.”
She turned to look at him. “I’ve done my part, Jack, and now it’s your turn unless you want to simply accept that my brother was killed by an overdose of Ecstasy at the hands of a woman. Call your friend. Tell her you’ll owe her one. That’s what friends do, Jack.”
“I’m not leaving you right now.”
“Of course not,” she said, smiling with all the hope and optimism that she’d ever felt before. “Because that’s what partners do.”
Karen snatched up the phone before it skidded off the stainless steel table. She forgot that putting it on vibrate tended to encourage it to bounce around on slick surfaces when it rang.
“Yes?” She hadn’t looked at the screen and now she was already annoyed with herself because she knew she was hoping it was him.
“Is this a bad time, Karen?”
“Oh, hey Trish,” she said, giving her assistant a nod to indicate he should carry on with the autopsy without her. “Give me just a sec to step out into the hall.” She hadn’t had time to even pull on her sterile gloves before the phone rang. It was just as well. Bennett was new and could use the experience. She settled on a bench in the hall and leaned her back up against the wall. “Okay, I’m good. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing really,” Trish said, but Karen heard the wobble in her voice.
“What is it, Trish? Is it Keith? Did something happen?” Karen had known Trish since their days together on the equestrian team at Auburn. While they’d taken two distinctly separate paths since college, Trish toward marriage and serious Christianity and Karen to med school and serial relationships, the kernel of their friendship had somehow survived.
“No, no, not really,” Trish said, her voice now coated with her sobs. “It’s my fault, Karen—”
“It is not your fault, Trish! God! Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
Trish sniffled loudly. “Please don’t blame him,” she said. “It’s not me I’m worried about. He’s talking more and more about…”
“About what, sweetie?” Why does she stay with that asshole? She could have had anyone on campus. What does she see in him?
“Well, he was always this way about her only now he’s getting, well…obsessed.”
“About whom, sweetie?”
“Dave’s sister. Naomi or whatever her name is. She’s all he talks about and the things he says…”
Crap. This isn’t good at all. What’s the matter with that psycho?
“Do you think he wants to hurt her?” Karen asked, chewing a cuticle.
“No, I…I don’t think so. I think he wants to…be with her. You know?”
“He wants to screw her.”
“Yes.” The tears came then for good and Karen knew there wouldn’t be much use in asking more questions. It didn’t matter. Trish was incapable of extricating herself from the situation and nothing Karen could say would help or make a difference.
Unless you count just listening and being here for her ‘helping.’
“Go on and let it all out, Trish,” Karen said, her heart breaking for her friend as she listened. “I’m here.”
This was not at all how the morning was supposed to go.
Burton swept the thick layer of dust and dirt into the dustpan then stood to survey the room. Mia was on the floor scrubbing away on a spot Burton was pretty sure was permanent. The dog had slept the entire morning, alternating between a pile of rags under one of the desks and Mia’s lap.
They’d made decent inroads in sorting the small office out in just a few hours. He’d flattened the empty boxes for pick up by the complex garbage company and moved the larger desk so that it faced the front window. They’d discovered a smaller desk under the boxes along with two mismatched armchairs and a file cabinet.
It still didn’t look like an office anyone would want to spend much time in. The front window faced the parking lot but gave little access to sunlight beyond what was required to illuminate the small waiting area.
Wasn’t this madness? There would be no waiting area. There would be no clients sitting in that waiting area.
He leaned on his broom and watched Mia hop to her feet and dash to the window, a clean rag in her hand. He watched as she energetically attacked the window, producing more streaks than eliminating them. He fought a grin that he had no idea was right below the surface.
Was this just the craziest girl he’d ever run into? Taking Ecstasy to confirm that was the drug in the glass? He shook his head. No, she took it to prove to him that Dave hadn’t died accidentally.
“Hey, you stopped working.” She was standing by the window, hands planted on her hips, glaring at him. There was a distinct flush to her face.
“How you feeling?” he asked.
“Isn’t it supposed to make me horny?”
He coughed. “I don’t think it’s an aphrodisiac. It just lowers your guard.”
“Well, check!” She grinned at him wolfishly and again, it was all he could do not to laugh.
This was the second time in three run-ins with Mia Kazmaroff that he realized he was enjoying himself. He registered he was attracted to her. Who wouldn’t be? She had a killer bod and expressive, magnetic blue eyes. But it was more than that. He realized he was drawn to her. To her words, her expressions, the way her mind worked.
I figure, Dave, if I can keep my hands off your sister for the next twenty-four hours, I’ll never owe you another thing ever again.
“Hello? Burton?”
“Don’t call me by my last name.”
She dropped the rag on the desk and collapsed into one of the armchairs they’d uncovered. “Did you get ahold of your medical examiner girl friend?”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“That really wasn’t the biggest part of my question, Jack.”
“I called her when I stepped out for the cleaning supplies. She thought I was nuts.”
“But she’ll do it?”
“Probably. People tend to humor friends who are having obvious nervous breakdowns.”
“Is that what she thinks is happening to you or is that what you think is happening?”
“I hadn’t given it much thought.”
“Liar.” She hopped back up and began to instantly jog in place, her full breasts bouncing up and down under her tight t-shirt. Burton gave a silent groan.
“It's entirely possible,” she said, panting, “that I'm feeling the effects of this drug more intensely than most people. You know, because of my thing.”
“What are you feeling?”
She stopped and looked out the front window. The morning had morphed into a grey afternoon and it had started to rain. “Mostly that people are good and you, in particular, are good.” She turned to look at him. “But misunderstood. Although Carol did say you were dishy…or was that Edie? But I guess you don’t need paranormal abilities to see that.”
Burton snorted. “Is that what you call it?”
“What would you call it? If you were trying to be nice?”
He went to pick up one of the empty coffee cups and put it back down again.
“Dave once brought home a murder weapon from one of your cases,” she said.
He looked up with interest.
“He wasn’t keeping it. I think he just ran out of time and it was easier to bring the gun home. Anyway, when I touched it…” She shivered and turned from him. “Okay, you know what? Forget it. This is really killing my buzz.”
“When you touched it…?”
She wrung her hands and then shook them as if trying to get something sticky or unpleasant off her fingers. “Fine. When I touched the gun I could see what happened. I…I felt it. When I told Dave what I was feeling, he said that I’d just described the murder as it had happened.” She looked over at him. “But you don’t believe it, do you?”
“I’m really not into ghosts and extra-sensory crap,” he said. “No offense.”
She shrugged and sat on the edge of the main desk. “None taken. You know, rumor was that Dave was sleeping with your ex-wife.”
Well, he hadn’t expected that. He walked to the wall to look at the thermostat. “I’ve heard that rumor,” he said. “Does this mean you’re still looking at me as a suspect?”
“Would you be here now if I was?”
He ignored the question and scooped up the dog in his arms. “How about you come with me and let’s pick up some sandwiches,” he said.
Was it bizarre that he was in absolutely no hurry to leave?
She picked up her purse and headed for the door. “Goodie,” she said. “We can stop by the barn along the way and see how my horse is doing.”
“Where is this horse?”
“Alpharetta.”
“In what world is Alpharetta anywhere near Atlantic Station?”
She stood at the door and smiled at him. “In my world, Jack. In my drug-fueled, happy little world. It is right on the way.”
They drove to the barn—thirty-two miles due north—stopping for deli sandwiches along the way. Mia insisted on a pasture-picnic, which Burton indulged. He wasn’t surprised to see her pick at her food. People high on Ecstasy didn’t eat—or sleep. He figured it would be sometime tomorrow before she finally came down. Amazingly, that was fine with him.
One of the benefits of not having any pets, he thought, as he watched her climb the pasture fence and call one of the horses over to her, you’re free to be as flexible as you like. He dragged his eyes away from her perfect ass in those tight jeans to focus on the horizon.
The pasture was ringed with Georgia pine just on the other side of the Chattahoochee. Mia said she used to ride the banks of the river every Saturday morning until her doctor and better judgment made her give up riding. When she turned to him, her face laughing at having fed her pickle to one of the horses crowding the fence, he thought for one mad moment that he might be in love with her.
Jesus! Had he ever felt this way before? Is this what they’re talking about when they say love at first sight or was he really losing every last one of his marbles? When he looked at her, when he listened to her, it was as if he’d never been with another woman before her. She was the one and she was the last person on earth he could ever be with.
She jumped down from the fence, the little dog trotting by her side, and walked back to where he sat on the car hood.
“Is one of those yours?” he asked.
She shook her head and, picking up the dog, climbed onto the hood. “Nah. They belong to his gang though.”
“Why did you quit riding? Because of your fall last month?”
She settled the dog in her lap and touched her ankle as if to massage it.
“How is it, by the way?”
“Totally healed,” she said. “No, it’s because with this so-called gift of mine, the one you don’t think exists, I feel things too much. I didn’t used to but as I got older…I don’t know… I just began overthinking everything.”
“Maybe it was spending too much time touching murder weapons and imagining crime scenes.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
He gestured to the pasture. “So you feel the horse’s vibes or something?”
“Do you ride?”
Burton shook his head.
“Well, when you ride, you and the horse are in constant communion. But it’s subtle. A leg twitch here, an ear flinch there. It’s not all whoa-nelly, it’s really quiet. And if you’re too sensitive you end up miscommunicating. I knew I was losing a handle on it and when I came off during the competition last month, well, let’s just say I had been heading in that direction for a while.”
“Any chance you’ll ride again?”
She looked at him. “Once I learn to control it. Which I fully intend to do.”
“Must make life difficult for you, being so sensitive to inanimate objects, animals, people.”
“You have no idea. It’s why I’m still a virgin, frankly.”
Burton choked on his sandwich and Mia got to her knees to pound him on the back.
“Was it something I said?” she grinned at him, her breasts pressing in way too close for his comfort. She handed him a water bottle which he accepted gratefully.
His cellphone vibrated against the Jeep hood and she reached for it. He saw her glance at the screen before she handed it to him.
“Sorry,” she said. “I thought it might be Dr. Sanders.”
He saw it was Diane. For the fourth time today. He pressed Decline and tucked the phone away in his jeans pocket. Hopefully she wouldn’t try to retrieve it from there.
“She calls you a lot.”
“So you’re, what, twenty-five?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“And you’ve never had sex. That’s pretty unbelievable in this day and age.”
“I’m not a prude or cold or anything,” she said, sliding off the hood. “Just the opposite in fact, and should we be talking about this while I’m still tripping on a sex drug?”
“I think you’re safe with me.”
Holy crap, did I really just say that? All I want to do is peel those jeans off her!
“I know I am.” She faced him on the ground. “Come on, I want to check on my horse at the barn. Then we can go back. I appreciate you driving. Once this thing has worn off, I want to pick up Dave’s car. They’ve got it in the police impound lot.”
“It probably won’t be out of your system until sometime tomorrow.”
“That is extremely inconvenient.” She scowled at him as if it were his fault. “Meanwhile, I don’t need a babysitter. Clearly, I won’t be jumping off buildings or anything.”
“I’ll stick around.”
“Noble but unnecessary,” she said, grabbing up the papers from their lunch and stuffing them into the sandwich bag, after throwing a crust to the dog.
“Nonetheless.”
“What? You’re going to spend the night with me?”
“That’s the plan,” he said. “Unless I can talk you into going back to your mother’s tonight.”
She made a face. “She’ll know the second I walk through the door what I’ve done.”
“So it’s decided.”
“I don’t even have a bed at Dave’s place,” she said, beginning to take on a shade of a little girl’s voice.
Of course she wouldn’t want to sleep in Dave’s bed. Should he take her back to his place?
“I’ve got some blow-up mattresses,” he said. “We’ll swing by my place and get them on the way back.” He watched the fretfulness fade from her face with his words. And when it did, he realized he wanted to take care of her, to always be the one to erase her fears and concerns.
Jesus, I’m in deep, he thought. And with Kazmaroff’s sister, no less.
As they got into the car, Burton’s phone rang again. He raised an eyebrow at her and she grinned as he pulled it from his pants and looked at the screen.
“It’s Karen,” he said.
Mia turned toward him, her face wreathed in hopeful expectation.
“Hey,” he said. “What did you find?”
“I can’t believe I did this,” she said on the other end. “You know we have a backup of six weeks for basic tox screens?”
“I know. I owe you.” He glanced at Mia and she grinned and nodded.
“He tested positive for Ecstasy,” she said. “Rohypnol, to be exact. In overdose amounts. How did you know?”
Burton couldn’t take his eyes off Mia who was hungrily waiting for the news. “I didn’t,” he said. “But a friend of mine had a hunch. Thanks, Karen.”
“I’ll collect on that debt, Jack,” her voice purred over the line.
“Sure. Anytime. Bye.” He disconnected and sat holding the phone as if stunned.
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
“He overdosed on Ecstasy.”
“I read on the Internet that that’s not easy to do. It would have to be deliberate to take so much you died from it.”
“I know.”
“So we’re looking at either suicide or murder.”
He turned to look at her, her bright blue eyes, so intelligent and piercing. “I guess we are.”
“May I ask what you think about the possibility that my brother killed himself?”
Jack put the car into gear and began to back out of the dirt parking lot. “Put your seat belt on, Mia.”
“Did my brother commit suicide, Jack?” Her voice was strong, nearly goading.
It wasn’t a question.
He focused on the road while the nauseating feel of the punch to the gut that Karen’s news had delivered began to work on the sandwich he’d just eaten. “No,” he said, finally. “There’s no way Dave Kazmaroff killed himself.”