Brew or Die

by Caroline Fardig

  “Okay, then. Let’s go buy some drugs.”

  —

  As we broke away from the group and hurried down the hall, I said, “You know I’m not actually going to buy any drugs, right? I’m dating a cop, for Pete’s sake.”

  “How are you going to get her talking, then? You’re going to have to at least show her you’re serious. Do you need some cash?”

  I elbowed him in the ribs. “I’m not buying drugs!”

  When we got to the stairwell, I took a quick peek to make sure the coast was clear, and then Pete went down one flight to stay out of sight but within listening range. We only had to wait a couple of minutes for Candace to show up.

  “Are you Leslie?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I replied, smiling. “Candace?”

  She smirked as she looked me up and down. “No surprise my cousin found himself a pretty redhead. Anyway, let’s do this. What do you want?” She opened her tote, showing me a large plastic bag filled with smaller plastic bags containing every size, color, and shape pill under the sun, some patches, and plant material. Candace was certainly a one-stop shop.

  Having had plenty of time to think this through, I said, “Let’s start with your aunt’s favorite kind of coke.”

  She chuckled. “Right. My aunt, the cokehead. Did the constant sniffing tip you off? Or was it her coke nail? I’ve told her the nail is a dead giveaway, but she’s used it since the seventies and won’t give it up. But anyway, I don’t sell powders. Too much toxic shit getting cut into them lately.”

  “So you’re not your aunt’s supplier?”

  “Not anymore I’m not. Enough chitchat. What do you want?”

  “Oh, right. Um…heroin.”

  Candace stared at me. “Didn’t you understand when I said no powders? I don’t sell heroin. And a word to the wise—do not buy heroin in this town right now. There are some bad shipments that have come in this year, and you can’t trust anything that’s out there. A dealer I know dropped dead from taking a taste of a tainted batch. I won’t touch the stuff. Haven’t dealt powder of any kind in over six months.”

  “Six months?” I blurted out. Then Candace wasn’t the one who’d supplied Josie (or whoever killed her) with heroin. Well, probably. Unless the killer had been hoarding the heroin for six months, just waiting for an opening to attack.

  “Yeah. A bad batch could kill you by touching it.”

  “What? Heroin can’t do that…can it?”

  “If it’s cut with carfentanyl it can.” Seeing my blank expression, she added, “It’s an elephant tranquilizer that’s starting to hit the streets. You don’t know much about drugs, do you?”

  I frowned, trying to appear less prissy than I was feeling. “I know enough.” I eyed her for a moment. “You knew Josie, right? Do you think she might have got hold of some of that carfentanyl heroin?”

  She shrugged disinterestedly. “If she did, she didn’t get it from me.”

  “Seems like everyone at your office is on something. Are you the only drug pusher there?”

  Candace narrowed her eyes. “You seem a lot more interested in talking than in buying. Put your money where your mouth is so I don’t start thinking you’re some kind of a snitch.”

  Shit. Maybe I should have accepted Pete’s money, because I had nothing. But then again, I really didn’t want to buy drugs, even if it was part of my cover. Suddenly, below us a metal door slammed, the deafening sound clanging up through the stairwell. Candace shoved the bag back into her tote and zipped it up just as Pete, taking the steps two at a time, appeared on our landing.

  “Where have you been, Leslie? You’re going to get us both in trouble with that crazy Kacey chick if we don’t show up at the reception in two minutes,” he said, grabbing my arm and ignoring Candace as he whisked me out the door.

  He didn’t allow us to slow our pace until we’d walked around nearly the whole convention area and were at the entrance to the Legends Ballroom, the smaller ballroom where the reception was being held. Still dragging me by the arm, he found a semi-secluded nook in the hallway and finally stopped to talk.

  “What the hell, Jules? You realize you were messing with a drug dealer.”

  I waved away his concern. “She’s harmless, and obviously low-level. What was she going to do, hit me with her trust fund?”

  “Let’s just be done here. You’re wound a little too tight.”

  “No, we still have some more people to talk to. I think Rex might be willing to get chatty, and you’re poised to make some serious headway with Alexa. Besides, we don’t have much in the way of leads.”

  Pete’s eyebrows shot up. “Kacey nearly had an aneurysm when you accused her of offing Josie, and I haven’t seen her since. I’d say that’s a decent indicator of some kind of guilt. Plus there’s always Xander. He’s guilty of a lot of things.”

  “Okay. You talk to Alexa about Xander, and I’ll see what I can get out of Rex. Then we’re out of here.”

  “Be careful, please.”

  I smiled at him. “Who, me?”

  —

  Leonidas Luxury Events had outdone itself with this reception. It was decorated even more lavishly than the ceremony area, and off to the side sat the biggest, tallest wedding cake I’d ever seen in my life. But I didn’t have time to marvel over my surroundings—I had a job to get done, and more than anything, I wanted out of the uncomfortable dress and heels I was wearing.

  I easily found Rex, who was already bellied up to the bar set up in the corner of the room near the door. I walked up next to him and smiled. “Day hasn’t gotten better since I saw you earlier?”

  He sighed. “Not at all.”

  “Mine could be better as well. Mr. Leonidas spent a good deal of time chatting me up today, and after I’d agreed to meet him in his suite later, I found out I’m one of many who got the same offer.”

  His face twisted into a sneer. “That man is a menace to women.”

  “Yeah. And not only that, when I asked him if he knew my friend Josie, he really acted weird. Like they had some kind of close connection. But that’s impossible, because she was happily engaged to Shane. Is Xander delusional, too?”

  Rex’s grip on his glass tightened, turning his knuckles white, but he didn’t answer.

  I went on, “I’m really torn up about her death. And angry.”

  He stared into his glass, only half listening to me as he murmured, “It was quite a tragedy.” After a moment, he frowned and raised his eyes to meet mine. “Wait. Angry? Why?”

  If Candace was telling the truth about not selling heroin, then I needed to find out where it came from. “Because someone she worked with was trying to pressure her to use drugs. Josie finally gave in, and look what happened.”

  Seeming uncomfortable, Rex cleared his throat. “Do you, um, do you know who it was that was pushing her to use?”

  Odd that he bought my lie about someone trying to push drugs on Josie without batting an eye—unless there was a shred of truth to it. Hadley skirted around the idea when she was talking to Shane, but then she ultimately pointed to Candace. Hadley had said everyone took some kind of substance to be able to survive in Leonidas’s toxic work environment, and that whatever anyone needed was always within easy reach. I was beginning to think that Candace was not the only source.

  “I was hoping you’d know. I’ve heard the name Candace Monroe. Are there any other people who might have been interested in helping Josie down that slippery slope? I feel like giving someone a piece of my mind.”

  Rex’s eyes grew wide, and he grabbed my arm, steering me away from the bar and any listening ears. “Don’t. Seriously. Candace is not a woman to be trifled with.”

  “Neither am I.”

  “She’s Mrs. Leonidas’s niece. Not only is she connected with drug dealers, but she’s also connected with one of the most powerful families in town. Trust me, Leslie. You don’t want her to even know who you are.”

  So my new friend Rex was scared of Candace. Interestin
g. “You’re saying I should let this go when I think she could have killed my friend?”

  “Shh. Keep your voice down. Josie was my friend, too. But trust me, it won’t do any good to go after Candace. She can make you disappear, too.”

  I searched his distraught face and came to a realization. “Too? Wait. You think she killed Josie.”

  Rex wiped a hand down his face, whispering, “I think…I think nothing, okay? I think I want to keep my job at this horrible company, and therefore I think I should keep my damn mouth shut. Case closed.”

  “I take it your job is more important to you than justice, then?”

  He sighed. “Look, say I go to the police. What the hell would I tell them? That Candace forced Josie to shoot up? I have no proof of that. Besides, how do you coerce someone to stick a needle in her own arm? Did Candace wave a gun in Josie’s face and say, ‘Shoot up or I’ll shoot’? The police would laugh me out of the station. Not only that, I know for a fact the Leonidas family has cops on their payroll. The family finds out I’m snitching on one of their own, and I’m dead. Losing my job would be the best thing that could come of that.”

  “Sounds like you’ve given this some thought.”

  Hanging his head, he replied, “Only all night every night when I should be sleeping.”

  I patted his shoulder. “I’m sorry I dredged it all back up for you. So you’re convinced it was Candace? Not Kacey?”

  Rex’s eyes bugged out. “I never even thought about Kacey, but it…it makes perfect sense.” He wiped his face again and groaned. “She hated Josie and blamed her for basically stealing her job. Not that it was Josie’s fault that she got chosen instead.”

  I hated to ask this question, but I needed to. I didn’t want to think that Josie had been cheating on poor Shane, but there was definitely something going on with her that we didn’t know about. “Are you sure that Josie didn’t do anything…extra to get that job?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean with Xander.”

  His face turned red with anger. “How dare you accuse her of that!”

  I held my hands out. “I’m not trying to tarnish her memory. I know she turned Xander down at least once, because I heard he double-booked her for parties and took away her assistant because of it.”

  “Right. That happened. Vindictive bastard.”

  “But I talked to him earlier, and he seemed sad when he spoke about her and said the two of them had been close. I was under the impression that whenever a girl turned him down, they were basically dead to him.”

  He nodded. “Generally, yes.”

  I spied Xander near the entrance to the room. Turning back to Rex, I smiled devilishly. “Want to test that theory?”

  Finally a ghost of a smile passing across his face, Rex replied, “What do you have in mind?”

  “Watch this.”

  I marched over to Xander, knowing this time to stay out of his reach. “Hey, Casanova. What’s this I hear about you inviting multiple party babes up to your suite? Was I going to be just another notch on your bedpost, or what?”

  Xander gave me a suave smile and moved to take my hand, but I stepped back. His smile faltered for a moment, but he managed to cover it well. “I’m sure that’s just malicious gossip. You’re more than enough woman for me.”

  “Yeah, right. But could I ever stack up to your dear sweet Josie in the sack?”

  His face drained of color, kind of like Kacey’s had when I accused her of killing Josie. He lunged at me and clamped his hand on my arm, hissing in my ear. “Never speak about her that way!”

  “Xander!” cried Alexa, who had appeared next to us with Pete in tow. “Outside. Now.”

  Xander gave her a disgusted eye roll as he let me go. “Beat it, sis.”

  She responded by grabbing his ear and dragging him out into the hallway. Pete and I looked at each other, chuckling, and followed them out to watch the impending grudge match.

  Alexa was shaking with anger. “You’re using today to hook up with women? You’re disgusting, and worse, as I’ve said over and over again and it never gets through to you—you’re going to get us sued for sexual harassment!”

  He spread his hands and gestured toward himself. “No woman thinks getting attention from me is harassment. Trust me.”

  I couldn’t hold my tongue. “On behalf of women, I certainly feel harassed.”

  Xander turned his smirk on me. “Because you were one of many today? I met you this morning, Leslie. Did you really think we were soul mates? If it’s any consolation, I thought you were the most interesting, so I saved you for last.”

  This guy was a piece of work. I shook my head. “First, that’s frightening given the fact that you probably have all the venereal diseases now thanks to these skanky models. And second, why would I want their sloppy, what—fifths?”

  Xander thought for a moment. “Sevenths, by my count.”

  “You can shove your suite up your ass.”

  “If you all are quite finished!” boomed a voice behind us. Wow. Mrs. Leonidas was three for three on busting up my conversations today.

  Alexa whined, “Mother, Xander is at it again, and I, for one, am not going to stand for it!”

  “Shut up, Alexa,” she snapped, then turned her wrath on Xander, who for a moment appeared to think she was going to take his side. “And you. This is the last straw. I’m cutting you off.” As he began to sputter, she roared, “Everyone back into the reception! It’s time to cut the cake. You are all to act as if this little incident never happened. Or else.”

  The four of us obediently slunk into the ballroom with Mrs. Leonidas behind us, herding us inside and closing the door.

  As Xander passed me, he murmured, “I’ll get you for this.”

  My entire body went numb at his ominous tone. We needed to get out of here, but Mrs. Leonidas still had her evil eye on us. Lucky for me, Pete hadn’t heard Xander’s threat, because he would have gone nuts over it. Thinking back on all the crazy we’d had to put up with today, the good news was that we had two strong suspects for Josie’s murder.

  Rex sidled over to me. “That was the most awesome thing I’ve ever witnessed. You go, girl.”

  I joked, “If I turn up dead, blame Xander.”

  Unfortunately, Pete, who was standing a few feet away, did hear that. He stepped toward us and said, “Leslie, I think you should focus more on modeling and less on pissing people off.” Linking his arm around mine, he said, “Now come on. We’re supposed to go cut our pretend wedding cake.”

  To heap more weirdness on this day, I found myself in front of that huge wedding cake (now already mangled in multiple places by other brides and grooms) with Pete’s hand over mine as we cut through the layers of fondant, frosting, filling, and cake. Then we had to smile pretty for the photographer and pretend to happily feed each other bites of said cake. And of course Pete being Pete, he smashed it all over my face, which actually served to break some of the tension. It was then that I realized we were done, and I could get away from this whole mess and back to my real life. I was much happier chasing cheating spouses and underhanded business partners around instead of possible murderers. Everyone involved was so much saner.

  As Pete and I were heading for the door, which was no longer being guarded by Mrs. Leonidas, one of the waiters must have mistaken us for an actual paying couple, because he offered us two flutes of champagne and wished us congratulations on our wedding. Neither of us ones to pass up free booze, we graciously accepted them, tossed them back, and went on our way.

  Once we got safely out in the hallway, we both breathed a huge sigh of relief at the same time, then laughed at our tandem reaction.

  “Well, Jules. We did it. It’s finally over,” Pete said, throwing his arm around my shoulders as we walked slowly back to the dressing rooms.

  “I’ve never hated undercover work so much.”

  “Hey, but we looked great doing it.”

  I yawned. “Oh, I almost forgot�
�I’m going to do my civic duty and narc on Candace for selling drugs.” Stopping in the hall, I got out my phone and sent a quick text to Stafford, passing on the information as well as her cell number, then stuck my phone back in its holster.

  Pete gave me a worried glance. “You didn’t tell him what we were doing today, did you?”

  “Nope,” I said. “He’s pretty good about not asking questions about my cases. I told him I was doing surveillance, but I didn’t give him any specifics.” Suddenly exhausted, I laid my head on Pete’s shoulder.

  It was his turn to yawn. “Are you crazy tired, too? That champagne must have been stronger than it looked.”

  My eyelids were so heavy I could barely keep them open. When I spoke, my words slurred together. “Yeah, I think maybe…” Everything went black.

  Chapter 17

  My head was splitting. And it wasn’t helping that Pete was shaking me silly and having a major freak-out.

  “What? Stop yelling!” I snapped, my tongue thick and dry inside my mouth.

  I still hadn’t been able to pry my eyes open yet. I was enveloped in something warm and soft, yet at the same time in an odd, uncomfortable position. Finally wrenching my eyes open, I looked around, having to take a moment to adjust to the near total darkness. I realized I was on top of a bunch of sheets and blankets, curled up inside a laundry cart, of all things. Pete was standing over me, swaying back and forth with the movement of…

  “Are we inside a moving truck?” I cried, writhing around, trying to scramble out of the cart.

  “Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Pete exclaimed, giving me a hand to help me out of the cart and steadying me as the truck careened to the side. “And worse, I think we’re…” He looked down at his clothes, then at mine. “Married.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut again. This all made very little sense to my fuzzy brain. I felt hungover times a thousand. As I strained to push through the cobwebs inside my head, I remembered something and opened my eyes.

  “No, I know we’re not married, contrary to what the clothes and rings we’re wearing might lead you to believe. Remember being at the Omni, undercover as wedding attire models?”