Eat, Pray, Die Mystery Box Set

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Eat, Pray, Die Mystery Box Set Page 43

by Chelsea Field


  That was the crux of this whole case. And Hunt was bluffing. This entire setup was designed to gather sufficient “probable cause” to convince a judge to issue a search warrant for Mr. Fierro’s car and home. Without that DNA, my theory was flimsy enough to collapse under Humphrey’s first shy smile at the jury.

  “Your own testimony places you in the ideal position to follow Earnest the night of his murder, where in cold blood, you forced the needle into his arm. Maybe you hadn’t thought about how much he’d fight, so to cover for the bruising, you took his wallet and phone so it would look like he’d been mugged. Then you drove to one of his old drug hangouts and dumped his body with the syringe next to him to make it seem like he’d overdosed.” Hunt paused again. “That’s cold, Mr. Fierro. I’m placing you under arrest for the premeditated murder of Earnest Dunst. You have the right to remain—”

  “No!” Humphrey pleaded, his gaze snapping up from the floor. “I was only trying to get him evicted.”

  “—silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you—”

  Humphrey was shaking his head vigorously. “You don’t understand. I only wanted him to break the terms of his lease by using heroin again. He wasn’t supposed to die!”

  “Shut up, Humphrey.” Mrs. Fierro rose to her feet, her face furious. “Can’t you see you just confessed? You useless, worthless, sniveling excuse for a son! You couldn’t even do this one thing for me without screwing it up. Who’s going to look after me while you’re rotting in prison, huh?” She picked up her mug of cooling tea and threw it at him, drenching both Humphrey and Hunt.

  “Cuff her too, Stiles. For assaulting a police officer.” Connor moved to obey, but he underestimated the snake. She whipped out her walking cane and cracked him straight in the nose.

  Blood streamed onto his immaculate white shirt.

  Tea dripped from Hunt’s mustache.

  Connor wrenched the cane from Mrs. Fierro and cuffed her.

  I dug through my handbag and handed him the washed handkerchief I’d been meaning to give back. Then I looked over the disastrous scene again. “Well,” I said. “I guess we have enough for a warrant now.”

  Connor’s nose was still bleeding by the time Hunt had loaded the Fierros into his car and driven off.

  “Should I call Levi?” I asked. “I have his direct number.”

  “Don’t even think about it.” The effect of Connor’s glare was impeded by the handkerchief pressed to his face.

  “But what if it’s broken? We can’t risk ruining your perfection.”

  “The answer’s still no. But it’s good to hear you think I’m perfect.” His normally rich voice was made nasally by the pressure he was applying to his nose.

  “Well, I did. Until you got beat up by an old lady.”

  His glower made my knees tremble, even with the handkerchief this time. “She caught me off guard. Besides, you think Etta couldn’t take you out?”

  Touché.

  “Sure she could. That’s why I make sure to be nice to her.”

  “By that logic, why aren’t you nice to me?”

  I gave him my sweetest smile. “Because I know you won’t take me out. It’d be a waste after all the effort you’ve put into saving my ass.”

  He removed the handkerchief. “If you’re not in the car by the time my key’s in the ignition, I’m leaving you here.”

  Another drop of blood leaked from one nostril.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?”

  He strode to the SUV and produced a fresh handkerchief. “Not a chance.”

  We pulled away from Earnest’s apartment. Maybe for the last time. Mrs. Dunst had told me she’d let Jay take what equipment he wanted and use a smidgen of the money Earnest left her to pay professional movers to put the rest in storage. Until she could face looking through it one day.

  I stared at the old white brick building until it disappeared from view. I’d spent two and a half happy months in those walls. Possibly the happiest two and a half months of my life since the divorce. But it wasn’t the walls that I’d miss.

  I’d had enough of crying lately, so I focused on the good stuff. We’d caught Earnest’s murderer. That was good. But I’d already pitied Humphrey for having Mrs. Fierro as a mother, and now I pitied him even more.

  His claim that he’d only intended to get Earnest kicked out for using heroin rang true. It fit with everything I’d observed about him, rather than that he was a cold-blooded killer. And it would be easy enough for the inexperienced to mix up a dose.

  Oh yeah, I was supposed to be focusing on the good.

  The one silver lining I could see was that at least in prison Humphrey would be free from the reign of terror of his mother. And maybe on a manslaughter rather than homicide charge, he’d get out just after the witch passed away.

  Maybe.

  I promised myself I’d call my own amazing mother when I got home.

  The other problem weighing me down was that we’d failed to achieve the other half of the justice Earnest would’ve wanted.

  The sociopaths over at Aptech were up to something. Something big enough to bribe Jay with a cool hundred grand cash and chop up a cadaver for threat material. Something big enough that Earnest had hired me.

  I couldn’t let them get away with it.

  But with the hard drives erased and the flash drive missing, what else could I do?

  22

  Aunt Alice didn’t seem quite so bad after getting to know Mrs. Fierro, but I still wanted her and Henrietta out of LA. Preferably with a Pacific Ocean between us.

  Unfortunately for me, after almost a week spending every spare second in each other’s company, Oliver and Henrietta were smitten with each other. I had a feeling that meant not only would I have to put up with Henrietta, but that Aunt Alice would visit LA a whole lot more often too.

  Meow and Dudley, for their part, were learning to tolerate each other from opposite sides of the room, which put them well ahead of me and the lovebirds. We were supposed to be having a movie night, but it had morphed into a make-out session while I’d gone to get popcorn, and I couldn’t bring myself to go back. Even Meow had moved to the other couch. I could hardly stand to be in the apartment.

  I sat down on Dudley’s nest in the kitchen and fed him some of the popcorn. I was looking after him again because Etta had a gentleman friend over, and I guess she didn’t want to be interrupted. Since Dudley had taken to being within six feet from her at all times, I could see how it might cramp her style.

  “This is what it comes down to, hey boy? We’ve both been booted out of our own homes because our living companions are getting their game on.” We shared some more popcorn. “Why don’t we ditch this joint and go to my bedroom?”

  The movie was almost finished now anyway. First though, I’d have to clear enough room on my bedroom floor for his gigantic bed. I kissed him on the nose and gave him a few more pieces of popcorn to keep him going. “I’ll be right back.”

  I was hanging up the last piece of clothing when I heard shouting. Heart accelerating, I dove for my bag, grabbed the trusty Taser, and quietly turned the door handle. Someone screamed. A rush of adrenaline jolted through me, but I forced myself to edge the door open slowly, hoping to gain the advantage of surprise. Another door slammed, and Oliver burst out laughing.

  Thoroughly confused, I raced into the open living area and found Meow and Dudley tentatively sniffing noses. Meow’s fur was lying flat, and Dudley was only trembling a little bit. Henrietta was nowhere to be seen.

  “What in the world just happened?” I asked, rushing over to Dudley and Meow in case I needed to intervene. To my surprise, Meow began rubbing herself against Dudley’s legs. Dudley looked as shocked and confused as I was but otherwise okay.

  Oliver finished laughing and sat down with a big sigh. “Henrietta and I broke things off.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Well, the movie ended and we were talking about places we’d like to trave
l to, and she said, ugh, you should have heard her.” His voice took on a high, whiny pitch as he imitated Henrietta. “Oh, Olly. I can’t wait for you to take me around London. I’ve always wanted to meet the Queen.” He shook his head in disgust. “Can you imagine? I can’t believe I let things get so far with a bloody Queen fanatic. From Australia no less. I mean, that’s almost more offensive than my fellow Englishmen loving the monarchy. All hail the Queen who sent the convicts she didn’t want to our great land and still pretends to rule it today. I don’t understand some people!”

  “Um.” I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “Sorry to hear. But what happened? I heard shouting and a scream, and now Dudley and Meow have decided to be friends?”

  He flopped a lazy hand at them. “Ah well, Meow never liked Aunt Alice or Henrietta if I was honest with myself. When I told Henrietta it wasn’t going to work out, she lost all that composure I admired her for and started shouting at me. Meow got a fright and took off to find cover, and Dudley came over to investigate what all the noise was about and happened to slip his wet nose right up Henrietta’s skirt. That was the shriek you would’ve heard. Then she stormed out, and Meow decided Dudley might not be such a bad chap after all.”

  I hid my smile in Dudley’s soft fur and scratched Meow in her favorite spot under her chin. I had a feeling Aunt Alice and Henrietta wouldn’t stick around LA much longer.

  Dudley’s accidental courage the night before helped me walk into the 27th Street Community Police Station with a straight spine. Hunt wanted to talk to me. Somehow I doubted it was to apologize.

  It was another overcast day, making the gray bricks of the station look even more dreary than normal. I’d showered and eaten a huge breakfast before coming, just in case I was about to be thrown in jail again.

  Police Commander Hunt sat me down at his desk this time instead of the interrogation room. A promising sign. The coolness in his blue eyes was less promising. I scanned his belongings for any clues about his personal life. There weren’t any. That included a distinct lack of family photos. Etta would be delighted.

  “I called you in here as a courtesy. To give you an update.” He spat the words out like they tasted bad. “Judge Wong issued a warrant, and we found the DNA evidence we expected in Mr. Fierro’s car as well as some on his clothes and those Cheetos. Mr. Fierro confessed everything. Except for anything that might incriminate his mother, that is. She’s keeping her mouth shut, but we’ve charged her with assault, so she’ll serve a few months’ time. Mr. Fierro will be tried with manslaughter. He told us where he stashed the phone and wallet too. Buried them in the garden and planted seedlings on top. No bloody wonder nothing turned up in our search of the dumpsters around the drug den.”

  Huh. The seedlings I’d watched him plant. Maybe I wouldn’t confess that detail to anyone.

  “The flash drive Ms. McCarthy was so eager to get her hands on was in the wallet, undamaged. It contains the plans for an illicit backdoor in the Pearl smartphone operating system Aptech was developing, which would’ve allowed them to collect all the personal data of the phone users. If the Pearl phones were popular, they could’ve sold it for millions, if not billions, to the highest bidder. Coleman and McCarthy have been arrested on conspiracy, and there’ll be more arrests to come.”

  In the words of Mrs. Dunst: sweet cartwheeling weasels! The possibilities for evil would’ve been endless. Emptying bank accounts. Identity theft. Money laundering. Selling personal photos, emails, and documents of high-profile figures to competitors or the press. Big brother government. Aiding terrorist activities with information and building access.

  Earnest was a hero.

  Not that it was news to me, but perhaps I’d return some of those reporters’ calls so the rest of the world could hear about it.

  I realized I was smiling.

  Hunt was not. “Don’t let this success go to your head, Avery. Civilians should stay out of police business. As should the Taste Society.” He stood up. My cue to go. “I hope I don’t see you again. Feel free to leave town.”

  I stood up too. The words “Yes, Commander” were on my lips, and half my mind was already walking out meekly, but something held me in place. Connor had told me not to be afraid of Hunt, and I knew he wasn’t, but my fear was not a thing I could switch off. Earnest, though, he had been afraid. Of leaving his home. Of relapsing. Of being targeted for being brave enough to speak up. But he hadn’t let it stop him.

  I was going to take a leaf out of Earnest’s book.

  “I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure, Commander, but it really hasn’t.” I picked up a pencil from his tidy desk and tapped it against his chest. “Maybe you should get your facts straight before blustering on about civilians staying out of police business. It was me who solved your case. Connor just told you it was his idea so you’d listen.” Ignoring the mottled crimson coloring his neck, I slipped the pencil into his breast pocket and gave it a pat. “So next time the media has your balls to the wall, don’t come to me.”

  23

  To celebrate the wrapping up of both the Aptech and Earnest cases, I made myself a cup of tea, grabbed a gingerbread-man cookie and a book, and got comfortable on Etta’s outdoor sofa. If Oliver and I had to squeeze past the darn thing every time we crossed the stair landing we shared with Etta, we might as well take her up on the offer to use it.

  The sun had surfaced from behind the clouds, and while the air was no longer fresh from the rain, it was somewhat comforting to return to the mishmash of human scents that said life would go on in Los Angeles.

  Even my cactus looked a tad greener. Maybe all it had needed was some watering. Or Dudley’s pee.

  The loss of Earnest still hurt, and I wasn’t ready to consider what my next client might be like, so I opened up the book and lost myself in its pages. This one was a romance. I’d had my fill of murder mysteries for a while.

  A shift in the sofa cushion brought me back to reality. Connor was sitting beside me. His heavily bruised nose bore mute witness to the fact he wasn’t a cyborg, but even so, he took my breath away. He was handsome enough to be the leading man in any romance. And for some reason, he was here with me.

  I reminded myself that I’d managed to drop three pounds in the stress of the past few days and wasn’t looking too bad either. I’d brushed my hair today and only had six more pounds to lose. Seven if I had another cookie.

  He handed me a thermos and the unmistakable bold, caramel aroma of espresso drifted up from it. “I heard Hunt gave you the good news,” he said.

  “Yeah, he did.” My mind flashed back to my final words to him, and I suddenly wished I had a blanket to pull around me. But it was all right, I reassured myself, Los Angeles was a big enough town that I shouldn’t have to ever see the commander again.

  I put the cold dregs of my tea down and took a sip of espresso. “CNN is doing a feature story on Earnest, and they’ll be interviewing Mrs. Dunst and Jay and me this afternoon. I think it will be good. For Mrs. Dunst and Jay, I mean. Not that it’ll make their loss any less…”

  “What about you?” Connor asked. “How are you holding up?”

  I swished espresso on my tongue, letting its rich, dark comfort wash over me. “I’m okay. Or at least I will be okay.”

  We sat in companionable silence for a while, enjoying the meager sunshine and the lack of anything urgent to do.

  “You might be wondering why I’m here,” Connor said.

  I had been wondering, but I didn’t want to drive him away by asking.

  The silence stretched out again, except for the sounds of traffic and the faint shouting of my downstairs neighbors, the Flanagans. No doubt they’d be having makeup sex soon. As Etta put it, they were always fighting or fornicating.

  Connor shifted beside me. “I’m here because… Well, I’d prefer not to go another three months without seeing you.”

  My head whipped around to see if he was teasing.

  He loosed a breath and met my eyes. “Isobel. Izzy. Y
ou’re the most impossible woman I’ve ever met. You’re hardheaded and stubborn, to the point of foolishness at times. You have an unhealthy addiction to coffee and cookies, wouldn’t know fashion if it lived next door, and are so busy looking for the good in people that you have an unfortunate tendency to chat up the bad guys. And I admire you for it. Your warm, genuine, gung-ho nature is so refreshing in this city where superficial style and success is obsessed over beyond all reason, to the degree that it leads to selfishness, deceit, backstabbing, and murder.”

  “Could have something to do with your line of work,” I observed helpfully.

  “Would you shut up and let me finish? This is hard for me.”

  I shut up.

  “The point is. I’d like to see you more often. When work permits. Would you like to come to Christmas with my family on Sunday?”

  Taste of Christmas

  An Eat, Pray, Die Bonus Story

  The following short story takes place between Books 2 and 3 in the EAT, PRAY, DIE series, so it’s suggested you read it before moving on to Book 3: POISON IS THE NEW BLACK.

  But you don’t have to. You rebel, you.

  1

  I waited on the cold park bench, borrowed ice skates in my lap, and hugged myself for warmth. I’d dressed for exercise rather than spectating.

  Families and couples glided around on the artificial icy expanse in front of me, laughing and screeching from near collisions. A smile played on my lips. It was a beautiful winter Christmas Eve in Los Angeles, and I had a date.

  My first in two years. With a man who was drool-worthy enough to have overtaken my daydreams months before I’d allowed myself to feel anything for him, and more importantly, with a man whom I could rely on. Someone who’d always have my back, as long as I wanted him there. Maybe even when I didn’t.

 

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