CHAPTER 23
SATURDAY MORNING EMORY awoke yawning, but when he tried to cover his mouth, he found he couldn’t move his hands. He looked above his head to see why. “What?” He refocused his eyes to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was. Sure enough, his hands were tied to the iron headboard with neckties. He tried to jerk himself free without success. “What the hell is going on here?”
“You’re awake.” Jeff stirred from a chair in the corner of the room, a quilt draped over him like he had slept there through the night.
“Jeff.” Pieces of the night before started dropping into Emory’s head. “Untie me!”
Jeff threw the quilt aside and walked over to the bedside. “How are you feeling?”
“Vengeful,” Emory snarled. “Untie me now!”
“All right. Keep your shirt on.” Jeff smiled at his bare-chested captive as he freed one of his hands. “I figured you’d be in a crappy mood this morning.”
Emory shot his free hand to the bound one and tried untying it while Jeff made his way to the other side of the bed.
“How many of those pills did you take last night?”
Emory stopped what he was doing to face Jeff. “My pills? You’re blaming me?”
Jeff finished untying the second knot for him. As soon as he did, Emory leapt from the bed and rammed Jeff back into the wall. He grabbed his collar with both hands. “You drugged me, you son of a bitch!”
Jeff drove his forearms between Emory’s, forcing him to release his grip. “Don’t blame me for your drug use.”
Emory shot a right hook to Jeff’s chin, knocking him on his ass into a corner. “I’ve never done drugs in my life!” With a blood-red face, Emory glared at the fallen man.
Jeff wiped blood from his mouth and let out a little laugh. “Well, that’s not exactly true, now is it, Mr. Anxiety?”
“Those are prescription, asshole!”
“They alter your mood, just like any street drug. Look, I’m going to stand up now, and I’d appreciate it if you could refrain from any more sucker punches.” Jeff steadied himself with a hand on the nightstand and rose to his feet, while Emory remained in a boxing stance. “I knew you were on something last night, and I just figured you took too many of your pills. You did say you were stressed.”
“You’re just trying to absolve yourself.” Emory’s anger was not the least bit abated. “I swear, I’ve never seen anyone who could charm people so effectively to get what he wants, and I encounter sociopaths on a regular basis.”
Jeff’s lips stretched into a blood-laced smile. “You think I’m charming?”
“It’s not going to work on me now. I don’t remember a lot about last night, but I remember that you admitted drugging me.”
Expecting another strike, Jeff put his hands up to block Emory. “You asked me if I drugged you, and I said, ‘Yes.’ Sarcastically. It was a ridiculous question, and I gave an equally ridiculous answer. I swear to you on my honor.”
The special agent huffed at the thought of Jeff having any honor.
“Okay, on Virginia’s honor.”
“I don’t know her well enough.”
Jeff dropped his smile. “The point is, I didn’t do it. I’ll take a lie-detector test or whatever you want me to do to prove it.”
Emory lowered his fists. “I just don’t know if I can really trust you.”
“That’s okay. Most times, I don’t trust myself.”
Emory thought about it for a few seconds. “So you didn’t roofie me?”
“I assure you, Hester Prynne, your honor is intact. No, I didn’t roofie you.”
“Well, I was drugged. My pills don’t do that to me. And how was I supposed to detect sarcasm in the state I was in?” Emory started walking away, but he shifted back to Jeff. “Wait a second. Why’d you tie me up?”
“You kept wanting to leave, and I couldn’t let you drive the way you were.” Jeff put an arm around Emory’s shoulders and led him to the living room. “I wanted to take you to the hospital, but I was afraid you would get into trouble with your job. I thought the best course of action would be to put you in bed and watch over you.”
Emory sat on the couch. “A bit extreme, tying me up, don’t you think?”
Jeff grinned at him. “I’m an extreme guy. Hey, do you want some coffee?”
“Sure.” Emory smelled under his arm. “Ooh, I stink.”
Jeff nodded toward the bathroom. “You shower. I’ll get you some fresh clothes.”
Seeing his old clothes on the couch, Emory remembered his gun. He searched through them and found the empty holster. “Jeff, where’s my gun?”
On his way to the kitchen, Jeff took a detour to the old-fashioned radiator against the wall. He turned a knob on it and pulled one side away from the wall, revealing that the radiator was hinged like a cabinet door. Behind the radiator, a safe was embedded in the wall. “When you went to the bathroom, before we left last night, I started wondering where you left your gun. I found it under your clothes and put it in here for safekeeping.” Jeff opened the safe and handed the gun to Emory.
“Thanks. What do you do when it gets cold?”
Jeff pointed to a vent in the ceiling. “I had central air put it when I bought the place.” He continued to the kitchen to make coffee. “I’ve been thinking. Most drugs administered orally, assuming it was orally, take about half an hour to start kicking in. When did you notice that you were feeling different?”
Emory paused for a moment. “I think on the way to the club.”
“So you would’ve taken it here at my place or just before you came. Did you eat or drink anything around that time?”
Emory tried to retrace his steps. “The last thing I ate was at the bus station in Barter Ridge about three hours before we left for the club. After that I went to the office and didn’t have anything there. I came here, and had the drink you made me.”
Jeff found the bottle of gin and bottle of tonic, and placed them onto the counter. “We should get these tested.”
“What about the ice?”
Jeff shook his head. “I had the same ice. Anything else?”
Thinking further, Emory remembered one more item. “I took one of my pills before we left.”
“Could someone have switched your pills?”
“I don’t see how. I took one at the factory yesterday, and I was fine. If someone did, it had to be between then and when I came here last night, but I know I had the bottle with me the whole time.”
Jeff put out his hand. “Give them to me. We should have them tested to be sure. Maybe they weren’t all switched.” Hesitating, Emory handed him the bottle from his pocket. “Will you be okay until you get more?”
“Sure,” Emory responded, although he was anything but.
“Did you take it with your gin and tonic?”
“No, I had one of your bottled waters.”
“Where’s the bottle?”
“In your recycle bin.”
Jeff looked in the bin and saw four bottles of water. “Do you happen to remember which one it was?”
“It was grape-flavored.”
Jeff found one bottle of grape-flavored, empty but for a little backwash. He put it on the counter with the other items. “I hope that’s a big enough sample. I should get a full one, just in case.” He looked in his refrigerator for more flavored waters. “All I have left is plain.”
Emory pointed to a bottle on his desk. “You have a grape one over there.”
“I do?” Jeff’s mouth opened as he realized where that particular bottle had come from.
“What is it?”
“At the factory yesterday, I took a couple of bottles from Scot’s office.”
“Why would they have drugged water on their sample table?”
“I didn’t get it from that table. I got it from Scot’s desk.” Jeff snapped his finger. “Britt. Oh my god.”
“What about her?”
“Rick told me someone spiked her drink at her
last competition.”
“Is that what happened to her? I saw the video.”
Jeff pointed at Emory, and his eyes brightened. “What if it wasn’t spiked? What if it came that way?”
CHAPTER 24
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.”
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“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.
Murder on the Lake of Fire Page 13