Pleasuria

by John J. Jessop

  Joanne held up her hand. “Slow down. To answer all your questions, I don’t know. I don’t know, no, and not to my knowledge.”

  “So, you don’t know why anyone would want to kill the patients in the clinical trial, or how someone managed to switch the pills. You don’t know why someone might have slipped you Pleasuria pills. You have not been back to CureStuff, and to your knowledge no one has given you any pills. Is that correct?”

  Joanne, looking like she was about to run out of the restaurant, said, “Yes. That’s what I just said. You suck as a detective. You’re just like all men; you don’t listen. I have no idea what’s going on. All I know is I’m terrified that whatever happened to me will happen again. I can tell you that it starts out pretty good, great actually, but whatever it is builds a head of steam and gets out of control pretty fast. You saw the state I was in when you took me to the ER. If they hadn’t given me a heavy sedative, I don’t know what would have happened. I’m not sure my heart could have taken much more. There really is too much of a good thing. Who’d have thought that too much pleasure could kill you, but I’m here to tell you it can. Oh God. Oh God.”

  Jason looked at her, fear in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “Don’t be stupid. That was not the I’m-gonna-have-an-orgasm Oh God; that was a this-is-really-frustrating-and-terrifying Oh God. You’re an idiot. How does your wife put up with you?”

  That reminded Jason that he still had to face the wrath of Chelsea, which put him in an even worse mood. As he walked away, he mumbled, “Oh God is right. When Chelsea gets through with me, I’m gonna be saying ‘Oh God, oh God,’ and not in a good way. Murder, humping rats, serious midlife crisis, all these good-looking women, and a fucking convertible sports car so small I can’t put the top up so I drive around in the rain. What in the hell was I thinking? I’m an FDA lab rat, not a PI.”

  CHAPTER 23

  That night after work, Jason dodged another bullet. Chelsea had to work late, so he fed the kids, helped with their homework and put them to bed. She still wasn’t home by nine, so he went downstairs to his home office, got out his whiteboard, and looked at his current diagram of the case. He kept switching between thinking and talking out loud because talking to himself always helped him to think more clearly and hardly ever led to an argument.

  His gut told him that Dick Littlething was innocent. He just didn’t have the stones to kill anyone, although Jason was surprised at the little fellow’s strength when hanging onto his leg. The fact that someone tried to kill him with the drug probably cleared him as a suspect. Jason didn’t think Littlething faked the hallucination in his office, unless he really did just fall crazy in love with Jason’s right leg. Ah, who am I kidding? He’s not the killer. Jason put a line through Dick Littlething’s name on the whiteboard.

  What about Lance Harden? I don’t think he’s the killer, either. He developed Happiness in his lab and seemed to genuinely want the clinical trial to succeed. That would be difficult if half the patients were murdered. Studies have shown that clinical trials usually fail if half of the patients are murdered during the trial. Jason drew a line through Harden’s name.

  Based on her current state of paranoia brought on by the attack of hypersexual stimulation, Jason also ruled out Joanne Shipley as the killer. She seemed to be suffering from serious trauma. She knew about the side effects of Pleasuria in the rats, and she would have been concerned about how the drug would affect humans, so he doubted that she took the pills to deflect suspicion. He crossed her name off the whiteboard. Same went for Wendy Thompkins. She also worked on the Pleasuria project and knew the side effects. Jealousy didn’t seem to be a strong enough motive for either of these women to have risked taking these pills to deflect suspicion. Lucy Chang had no motive whatsoever for harming anyone, either. According to Littlething, she had nothing to do with the Happiness clinical trial, and she wasn’t involved with him or Harden.

  Jason looked at the whiteboard, and he had crossed out the names of all of his suspects, with the exception of Tanya Grayson, VP, Toxicology.

  “No freakin’ way,” he said, a little too loudly, and then winced, afraid he might wake the children. He listened, but all was still quiet upstairs. He looked at the stick figure with breasts labeled Tanya Grayson and said, “The woman is drop-dead gorgeous, dresses to the nines, smells real nice and is very friendly. And oh, that little black dress. I really liked the little black dress. She just can’t be the killer. Studies have shown that only about one percent of hot, sexy women are serial killers.”

  Jason heard from behind him, “What little black dress is that, dear? And what hot, sexy women?” Chelsea had come home, found the girls in bed and gone looking for him.

  Jason turned around and saw his wife standing there in her nurse’s outfit. He said, sheepishly, “Hello dear. You finally got home. Busy day? How do you manage to look so beautiful after working such long hours?” He thought it was worth a try. “Why are you wearing your nurse’s uniform? You work in administration now.”

  Chelsea responded, irritated, “Nice try, Jason. There was a bad accident on the south Beltway, and the ER was bombarded with injured commuters. A tractor-trailer hit a bus full of tourists. There were two deaths and a whole lot of contusions, abrasions, and broken bones. Since I still work in the ER once in a while to keep up my nursing skills, I was called in to help. That’s why I got home so late. I didn’t call because there wasn’t a second of free time to dial my cell phone. I’m wasted. I’ve been on my feet for ten hours straight, running around like a chicken with its head cut off . . . So, what little black dress?”

  Damn. She’s not going to let go of this. I’m already in the doghouse. He said, pointing to his whiteboard, “I’m just looking over my outline of the case I’m currently investigating. It’s a difficult one.”

  Chelsea interrupted. “You mean the one where you brought your carpooler into the ER after she suffered multiple magical orgasms? Are you making progress on that case? Was it really attempted murder? Sounds more like a party to me. And what little black dress?”

  He gulped. “She didn’t actually have multiple orgasms. Well, she kinda did, but they were spontaneous, not man-made. Crap. I mean . . . as it turns out, it appears to have been the effect of a drug that places a person in a perpetual state of sexual arousal and orgasm until they finally pass out or die. I believe someone at a drug company called CureStuff Pharmaceuticals is slipping these pills to people in an attempt to kill them. There have already been two attempted murders, one of them my carpooler, and at least three successful murders in North Carolina in the same area where this company is located. All the victims had similar symptoms. I’ve also discovered that most of the victims are patients in a clinical study of a drug for treatment of depression being run by this same company. And my carpooler, Joanne, used to work for them.”

  “That’s interesting, Jason. You seem to be enjoying your gig as Jason Longfellow, Private Eye, but WHAT ABOUT THE FUCKING LITTLE BLACK DRESS?”

  Jason ducked reflexively when he heard this blast from Chelsea. “Please calm down, dear. You’re gonna blow a gasket. The little black dress is no big deal. It’s just that I’ve eliminated all of my suspects but one, Dr. Tanya Grayson, the vice president of toxicology for CureStuff.” He hesitated.

  Chelsea said, threateningly, “And?”

  Finally, Jason said, “And the last time I saw her, interrogated her, she was wearing a little black dress. She is very good looking, smart, friendly, and I just can’t believe that she would do anything like murder people. It’s true that one of the other employees of the company that I interviewed, a Lucy Chang, told me that Tanya . . . uh . . . Dr. Grayson had a thing for the scientist, Dr. Lance Harden, who developed their new antidepressant drug, Happiness. Dr. Harden was dating Wendy Thompkins at the time, and he had also dated Joanne Shipley.”

  “You mean your carpooler, Dr. Orgasm?”

  Jason choked. “Yes, my carpooler that I brought to the ER. If I ha
dn’t gotten her there when I did, she would have probably died. I keep telling you, I didn’t have anything to do with what happened to her. I think someone slipped her a drug that caused her orgasms, some sort of hyper-sexual response, trying to kill her. Why is that so difficult to believe?”

  Chelsea laughed, more like an insane screeching sound, and said, “So you were attracted to this doctor, what was her name, Grayson? Is this the hot, sexy woman? You liked the way she filled out her little black dress, and you don’t think she could be guilty of murder because she’s good looking, smart, and friendly. You really are an idiot. I’m beginning to think all men are idiots. You’re in the middle of some midlife crisis, risking your government job to play private detective with no experience at all, and your family is going to starve to death. Your carpooler has multiple orgasms in YOUR car while you are driving her to work, and now you are running around pretending to solve a case that probably isn’t even a crime, while chasing after women in little black dresses. Do I look stupid enough to believe this bullshit? It’s men. You’re all nuts. One of my friends at work has a husband who just ran off to Hawaii with his administrative assistant and left her high and dry with four children. And I just found out at work today that one of the docs has been screwing most of the nurses in the ER, four of them women and one a man. I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted from taking care of the kids by myself while you’ve been off in North Carolina playing private eye and from working late tonight. This isn’t over. We’ll discuss it further tomorrow, when I’m awake and have more energy.”

  Jason, his ears burning from the tongue lashing, thought, Damn, that was brutal. Hate to see what happens when she has more energy. “Goodnight, dear. I’m going to work on the case a little longer. I’ll be up in a while.”

  Jason shook off his wife’s barrage and refocused on the case. He needed to solve it to show Chelsea he was serious about this PI thing. If he found the murderer, at least his wife would know his being a PI wasn’t just a cover to run around and cheat. Focus, Jason, focus.

  He thought about Lucy Chang, who had told him that Tanya Grayson had a thing for Lance Harden, and Tanya would’ve probably been jealous of both Wendy Thompkins and his carpool buddy, Joanne Shipley. But why kill patients in the Happiness clinical trial? Besides, Tanya’s hot, smart, witty, very friendly, smells good, and that little black dress. I gotta stop thinking about that little black dress. But he knew there was little chance of that, at least until Chelsea killed him. Studies have shown that attractive women in little black dresses can be fatal to married men.

  Jason looked at his watch; it was midnight. I’d better get some sleep, he thought, I need to go back to North Carolina one more time, to interrogate Tanya Grayson. But that’s not going to happen. If I miss another day of work, and especially if Chelsea finds out that I have seen Tanya again now that she knows about her, I’m gonna die. I’d rather avoid that. Maybe there’s some way that I can convince Tanya Grayson to come to me.

  He slept on the couch just to be safe.

  CHAPTER 24

  Jason needed to interview Tanya Grayson one more time. He thought, I hope she’s not the killer. That’s not the way I want this story to end. I wish the killer was that idiot Littlething. He ruined my pants.

  The next day, Jason spoke with Joanne Shipley again. He walked over to her office at work, knocked on her open door, stuck his head in, and said, “Hey, Joanne. I hope you’re doing better today. I need a favor.”

  She looked up from her desk and said, “Hi, Jason. I’m doing a little better. Come on in and sit. What can I do for you?”

  He took a seat in front of her desk and said, “I need to interrogate Tanya Grayson again, and I need her to come to me this time, without my wife, Chelsea, finding out. Chelsea’s worried I’m going to lose my job if I keep taking time off work to travel to North Carolina to investigate. Also, I may have accidentally mentioned something about Tanya Grayson and a little black dress, so I can’t go back to North Carolina anytime soon or someone’s going to be investigating my murder. If I die, first clue, look to my wife. So, is there any way you can convince Tanya to come up here to visit you? It’s my understanding that you were friends at CureStuff. Can you make up a reason to invite her for a visit? Then I could think of an excuse to show up, and ask her some questions while she’s here.”

  “We were friends when I worked at CureStuff, but we haven’t kept in touch since I left. I can’t think of any reason to invite her to come to Northern Virginia. What about you? Did the two of you get along? You might invite her to come for a visit. You could get a hotel room and meet her there. From what I remember, Tanya wasn’t very picky about the guys she’d sleep with. She pretty much worked her way through the whole male staff at CureStuff, with the exception of Dr. Littlething. I’m guessing if there was any attraction between the two of you, she’d be willing to hook up.”

  “I’m married. I can’t do that.”

  “Yeah, that’s not a problem for Tanya. She seemed to prefer them married. Prevents any thoughts of something more permanent developing.”

  “So, I use my alluring ways to entice Tanya up here to Northern Virginia to meet me in a hotel room for sex? Then I interrogate the hell out of her, get to the truth and solve the case? Sounds like a good plan, except that if Chelsea finds out, I’ll die. Okay, I’m down.”

  “My advice, Jason? Just don’t mention anything about the case when you invite her to come for a visit. If she is the killer, she might make you her next victim. In fact, based on what you’ve told me, Tanya and your wife will probably team up to put you down. Don’t say anything to Tanya that might make her think you are inviting her for anything other than wild, kinky sex. The Tanya that I knew was into that sort of thing.”

  Jason’s eyes went blank as he zoned out for a minute, thinking about that little black dress and wild, kinky sex. He shook his head hard to clear his thoughts.

  “Thanks Joanne, good advice. I’ll stick to the kinky sex stuff, and won’t mention that I plan to interrogate her. There was some sexual tension between us when I talked to her at CureStuff, so this might actually work.” Somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind an alarm was going off. Idiot. You’re gonna die! But Jason really wanted to solve his first case, so he went back to his office and dialed the phone.

  “Tanya Grayson, VP, Toxicology.”

  He said, in his deepest, sexiest voice, “Hello, Dr. Grayson . . . Tanya. Jason Longfellow here. I realize we don’t know each other very well, but when I first met you at CureStuff, I sensed something between us, a sexual tension. I’m hoping you felt it too.”

  “Hello, PI Longfellow . . . Jason. It’s good to hear from you. I was hoping you’d call. What can I do for you?”

  Jason gulped. “I was hoping I could see all of you . . . I mean, see you, again. I can’t get away at the moment because I have too much work at the office. I was wondering if you might be willing to come to Northern Virginia for a meet. I could get you a room at a Marriott in Herndon and come over for a visit, for drinks and whatever. Maybe you could wear that little black dress you wore last time I saw you.”

  “Let me get this straight. You want me to come all the way to Northern Virginia to hook up with you in a hotel room, and we barely know each other? I must admit, I felt a certain attraction to you, but aren’t you married? What kind of a girl do you think I am? And, more to the point, when, and which Marriott?”

  Jason, now more confident, said, “How about this Friday, the Marriott out by Dulles Airport? I’ll text you the address. I’ll take the afternoon off and meet you in the room around one thirty.” He mumbled to himself, “Damn, I’m good. I’m really getting the hang of this PI stuff.”

  “What? I didn’t hear you.”

  Shit, I said that out loud. “Sorry. I said that it will be great to see you and hang with you for a while. Don’t forget the little black dress.”

  “No worries. I’ll bring it. But I don’t expect to have it on for very long. Don’t you d
isappoint me. I’ll see you Friday.”

  Jason found himself feeling a little dizzy. Jesus, am I really going through with this?

  Tanya was his only remaining suspect. He had no choice. She might have jealousy as a motive for trying to kill Wendy Thompkins and Joanne Shipley; they both hooked up with Dr. Harden. But why would she want to murder a pilot, a construction worker, a NASCAR driver, and a Starbucks barista? It just didn’t make any sense. Even if it has something to do with CureStuff, why would she want to kill depressed patients in her own company’s clinical trial? I’ve got to go through with this. But Chelsea can NEVER find out what I’ve been up to.

  CHAPTER 25

  Chelsea was busy at work, and she and Jason didn’t have a chance to talk for the next couple of days, which was fine with him. Come that fateful Friday morning, he went off to work with plans to meet Tanya Grayson. He was confused and full of doubt. As he drove to work, visions of Tanya floating through his mind, he thought, I have to assume that Tanya’s the murderer. She’s my only remaining suspect. But maybe he had missed something. He forced the vision out of his head, and then said to the windshield, “I need to get her to confess, and I’ll do whatever it takes, just so long as I stay faithful to Chelsea. Who am I trying to kid? If Chelsea ever finds out about this, she’ll run me over in the driveway for meeting this woman in a hotel room, even if it is critical to my investigation and nothing actually happens.”

  At noon, he got a call from Tanya on his cell phone.

  “Hello Jason. I’m here at the Marriott, room 444. I ordered champagne and am about to take a long, hot bath and put on the little black dress. We still on for one thirty?”

  “Hey, Tanya. Glad you could make it. Yes, we are most definitely on. I cleared my calendar and took the afternoon off. I’ll actually try to get there a little early, depending on traffic, say about one? I haven’t had lunch, and I’m starving. Hold off on the bath and the little black dress, and I’ll take you out to lunch before we ‘get together’ in the room, if you know what I mean.”