I also wonder if Kim knows Jason is stepping out on her. She didn’t say anything that would make me think so when we visited her. Realizing I’m still staring at Jason and Dr. Thomas, I quickly hide my face behind my purse and make a beeline for my friends. I’m not getting myself messed up in anyone else’s dating drama, that’s for sure.
Melody smiles at me. “You look refreshed.”
“I’m much better, thanks. I found a little something to take my mind off my problems.”
“What’s that?” Kara asks.
“Do you guys know Jason Harris?”
They all shake their heads.
“Anyway, he’s married, and he’s here.”
“So?” Melinda shrugs, unimpressed.
“But he’s not here with his wife!” Yeah, I know I said I wasn’t going to get myself messed up in someone else’s drama, but I didn’t say I wasn’t going to gossip about it.
Melody says, “Not the best idea to cheat on your wife at a packed club. He probably thought he was safe by going this far away from home, but half of Liberty is here tonight.”
“No kidding,” I agree, getting out my phone to text Julia the juicy gossip. She’s probably fast asleep by now, but I have to tell someone who knows the players in this little game.
“So are we done here?” Melinda asks. “This place is way too trendy for me.”
Kara giggles. “Yeah, me too. Lizzie, I assume you’ve had enough of this place.”
I nod my head. “Put me out of my misery. Only let’s go around the long way so we do NOT go back past a certain booth.”
***
The next morning at work, Julia comes straight for my desk when she arrives. She exclaims, “Holy shit! Jason is cheating on Kim? That’s horrible! I would kill him if I were in her shoes.”
“Whoa, there, mama. No murder talk, remember?”
“I feel so bad for Kim. We’ve gotten really close lately,” she says, hormonal tears springing to her eyes. “Can you imagine having a new baby and having to deal with a cheating husband?”
Shrugging, I say, “Maybe she doesn’t know.”
“We have to tell her!”
I hold up my hands. “Oh, no. You leave me out of this. I’m not really even friends with her. This is so not my problem.”
“Who was he with?”
I hesitate. I don’t want to run the new chiropractor’s name through the mud around here before she has a chance to establish her own reputation. Maybe Dr. Thomas has no idea he’s married. Who knows? Guys will say practically anything to get into a girl’s pants.
Deciding to protect the possibly innocent, I reply, “Some redhead.” There. Totally true, just not totally specific.
“Homewrecking bitch,” Julia mutters. She asks, “You’d want to know if your guy were cheating, right?”
I take a moment to consider it. Hmm. I would really like to be able to un-see Blake and his slutty date from last night, and we’ve been broken up for six months. If I were with someone, I honestly don’t know if I’d want to know.
I reply uncertainly, “Ignorance is bliss, right?”
She rolls her eyes. “You couldn’t possibly understand what it’s like to be married. It changes everything.”
Her comment rubs the single girl in me the wrong way. “I was just sharing a tidbit of gossip with you, and now it’s a huge deal. Do what you think you have to do and leave me the hell out of it.”
Julia huffs, “Fine,” and stomps away from my desk. Ugh. That was excruciating. Her hormones are getting a little out of control lately.
Speaking of excruciating, Blake steps in the door, late as usual. He smirks at me as he passes, and I respond by flipping my hair and turning my head away from him. He can be such a smug asshole sometimes.
No sooner than my back is turned, I feel a rush of icy, wet liquid hit my upper back and slide all the way down, getting stuck in the seat of my chair and forming a giant puddle directly under my ass. I am soaked from the shoulders down.
“AAAUUUGH!” I scream, in shock and mad as hell.
I wheel around to face my assailant, stringing together a series of nonsensical expletives as I go. As expected, I find Bethany, doing her bug-eyed stare at me and grinning from ear to ear, empty thirty-two ounce cup in hand. The room becomes deadly silent.
“I must have tripped…again.” She smirks evilly at me.
I’ve had enough. I lunge at her, but two strong hands clamp onto my arms from behind, and I can’t get free to claw Bethany’s eyes out.
“Let go,” I complain, unable to see who is holding me back.
Blake’s voice whispers in my ear, “Cool it. Sloane’s coming.”
Are you freaking kidding me? Blake is the one who’s keeping me from popping Bethany in her ugly face? I think I hate him more than ever.
Blake releases me and steps back as Sloane marches over to us. Sloan shouts, “I should have known! You two again! What do I have to do to get it through your thick heads that this is unacceptable office behavior?”
Trying to pull a sad face, Bethany says, “It was an accident.”
I say, “Oh, bullsh—”
Blake interrupts me. “Wait, Sloane, I saw the whole thing. Hart was just sitting at her desk. McCool came by and purposely dumped a drink all over her.”
Bethany’s eyes bug out more. “He’s lying. I didn’t—”
Regarding her warily, Sloane barks, “You were getting back at her for the donut yesterday.” Which was not my fault. Damn Hank. He is so lucky he’s mega-late this morning, or else I might be inclined to throw him under the bus. I’m staying out of this one, though. Sloane’s got it covered. He turns to me. “You, go home and get changed. Bethany, clean up this mess. I better not hear a peep out of either of you the rest of the day!”
I have to tiptoe through squishy carpet to get to my purse. Bethany is going to have a hell of a time getting thirty-two ounces of wet, sticky soft drink out of my chair and the carpet. When I head for the door, I find Blake still standing there looking at me. Unnerved by his gaze, I stop dead in my tracks.
I really don’t want to have to thank him for sticking up for me, but I probably should. As much as I hate to admit it, it was kind of nice, like the old days when he would swoop in and rescue me whenever my temper was about to get me into trouble. I get an odd little warm feeling inside, thinking about those happier times, but I quickly squash it. After what’s happened between us, I don’t think our relationship can be mended. More than anything, I miss his friendship, but I’ll be damned if I’ll ever tell him that.
“Thanks,” I say rigidly, stepping around him.
“Yeah,” he mutters.
That was awkward. I wonder why he stood up for me. Did he feel sorry for me after last night? Did he do it out of habit? Surely not—it’s been so long. Who the hell knows? I’m just going to chalk it up to me not being able to understand men. Ever.
I head for my car, grabbing an old towel out of my trunk so my soaking wet clothes don’t get my seats wet. I finally got around to replacing my car after it was bombed a while back, and I certainly don’t want to ruin the new interior. I get in and head for home, squirming as my wet underwear squishes under my ass. I’m still lost in thought about Blake and realize too late that I’ve blown through a stop sign. Oops. Oh, well, there was no one coming. No harm, I guess.
Guess again. I hear the unmistakable chirp of a police siren and glance in my rearview mirror to find an unmarked Crown Victoria behind me with a flashing gumball light. Fan-freaking-tastic. Now I’ll have to sit here longer in my cold, wet panties. Grrr.
A fine-looking plainclothes cop taps on my window with his badge. I quickly compose myself and put on a sweet smile before rolling down my window. This guy is one adorable man. He seems imposing with his manly beard and the muscles I can see under his clothing, but his face has a boyish charm. Let’s just say I wouldn’t mind him cuffing me.
“Good morning, officer.”
“Good morning, ma’am.”
Ooh. He has a sexy voice. “Detective Brody Callahan.” Ooh. He has a sexy name, too. “Did you see that stop sign back there?”
“Back there?” I ask, widening my eyes. “Oh, right. I’m sorry. I guess I must have missed it.” I lean closer, looking up at him through my eyelashes. The sooner I can get out of this ticket, the sooner I can change clothes. “I promise it won’t happen again.”
His piercing blue eyes unwavering, he says, “I’ve heard that one before. License and registration, please.”
Damn it.
I hand over my license and registration and wait impatiently while Detective Callahan takes his dear sweet time going back to his car to write my ticket. If he’s a “detective”, shouldn’t he be out detecting, and not playing traffic cop? I shudder as a cold droplet of soda slides down my back. If I don’t get out of these wet clothes soon, my skin is going to get all pruney.
After a few minutes, Detective Callahan walks slowly back to my car and hands me my identification, along with a big fat ticket. His mouth twitching, he says, “I didn’t realize I’d have the honor of giving the infamous Lizzie Hart a ticket today.”
Shit. Every cop in town knows me and my crazy story. I often wonder if I’m the precinct’s favorite topic of discussion over donuts every morning. I was knee-deep in their investigation of my old boss, Sarah, which they weren’t too happy about. A couple of months after that, I kind of stumbled into being the victim again, and this time the killer was one of their own—Detective Sanchez. I’m pretty sure the department associates me with the black eye they got for that. It totally wasn’t my fault, but still I think I’m a reminder of the whole debacle.
I tense, trying to plaster on a smile, but it’s not working. I just hope I’m not sneering at him. I really don’t like talking to cops, even cute ones.
He runs a hand through his sandy hair and says thoughtfully, “You aren’t the way I pictured you.”
I frown. Does he mean that in a good way or a bad way? I bite out, “And how did you picture me?”
“Crazier. Not as…pretty.” Was that a slam or a compliment? Or both? I don’t think I like this guy.
“So am I good to go?” I ask, now uncomfortable both physically and emotionally.
“Yep,” he says. “You have a nice day now, Ms. Hart.”
Fat chance of that happening, pal. I’ve already had about as much drama as I can stand today, and it’s not even ten AM. I mumble an unenthusiastic, “Thanks,” and head for home.
***
I arrive back at work, freshly showered and changed. Feeling much better, I compose myself and walk through the back entrance. I’m not about to come in through the front and have to pass by Bethany’s desk. It seems she’s finished cleaning the carpet, and there is a different chair sitting at my desk, likely because mine is still too damp to use. I cautiously test it before sitting down, just in case. I could just see Bethany loosening a couple of screws so the chair would fall apart when I put weight on it.
Fairly confident she hasn’t booby-trapped my chair, I sit down and get to work. My first order of business is to write a nasty email to Hank. It goes a little something like this: Dear Bastard, Did you hear about my morning? McUncool emptied an entire Big Gulp down my back, so I had to go home and change. Oh, and on my way I got a ticket for running a stop sign, because I was a little preoccupied by the fact that my butt cheeks were starting to stick together from their Dr. Pepper bath. This is on you, you big ass. Your Friend, Lizzie.
I hit the send button, and after a moment I see Hank snorting coffee out of his nose and cackling. He ends up coughing and his eyes start watering, but he’s still doubled over laughing.
Hank looks over at me and chortles, “I can’t believe I missed that shitstorm. Damn dentist appointment. You’re a hoot, Lizzie.”
“I’m happy to be here for your entertainment,” I retort sourly.
***
The rest of my morning is largely uneventful, until Julia comes over to my desk nervously and asks, “Will you do me a huge favor?”
“Maybe,” I reply warily, remembering our earlier conversation.
She begs, “Will you please come to Kim’s house with me?”
“No.” The last time I went over to Kim’s I nearly died of boredom.
“Come on, Lizzie! Please?”
“Are you going there to tell her that Jason cheated?”
“Yes.”
“In that case, my answer is hell no.”
“Why not?” she whines.
“Because Kim is kind of a bitch on a good day, and I don’t want to be there when you tell her the bad news.” I was always better friends with Jason than Kim, anyway.
“She’s not a bitch. She’s really nice, but I’m afraid she won’t believe me if she doesn’t hear it straight from you. Tell you what—just drive over there with me and wait in the car. If I need you, I’ll come and get you. If not, you’re off the hook. Please? Because you’re my best friend and I really need you?”
Always a sucker for the “best friend” card, I smile and shake my head. “Fine. But I’m not getting out of the car.”
***
When we get to Kim and Jason’s house, Kim is just heading in the front door, baby in tow.
As she pulls up in the driveway, Julia rolls down her window and shouts, “Hey, Kim!”
Kim turns and waves at her, unfortunately spotting me and waving at me as well. Damn. Now I can’t wait in the car. Julia gets out to follows Kim inside the house while I dawdle, pretending to look for something in my purse. I finally haul myself out of my car. Suddenly, I hear frantic screaming from inside Kim’s house. I race for the door, my heart pounding.
Upon bursting into the house, I find that Julia, Kim, and Kim’s baby are all in hysterics. It’s deafening in here. Grabbing Julia’s arm, I yell, “What’s going on?”
Tears streaming down her face, Julia gestures across the room to the couch. She chokes out, “Jason—”
I look to where Julia is pointing. In all the commotion I didn’t notice Jason sitting there. When I take a good look at him, my heart stops. He’s dead.
CHAPTER THREE
Kim and the baby are still wailing and screaming at the top of their lungs. I don’t begin to know what to do for them. However, I’m growing increasingly concerned about Julia, who is looking paler and greener by the second, her eyes fixated on Jason.
Suddenly, Julia starts breathing heavily, and I know what’s coming next. “Outside!” I order, steering her out the door and into the yard. It’s just in time, too, because she pukes everywhere.
Ever the good best friend, I hold her hair and rub her back, urging her to “get it all out”. Last time Julia and I saw a dead body, I was the one who was puking everywhere. Maybe my stomach has finally toughened up, after all.
She pants, “I’m good. Go back inside and see if you can get Kim to calm down.”
What started as a simple mission to ruin Kim’s marriage has turned into a disaster of epic proportion. I grudgingly hurry back inside and head straight for Kim, who is now pacing back and forth, making strange, strangled noises. Her baby is on the floor, red-faced and still squalling.
I put my hands on Kim’s shoulders. “Kim, you need to get hold of yourself so we can deal with this.”
Kim looks at me, eyes wide and bloodshot. “I need to get hold of myself? How can I? My husband is dead!”
More gently, I say, “And I’m so sorry about that, but we need to get you and the baby calmed down.” I steal a glance over at Jason, who is slumped back against the couch, eyes closed, his jaw slack. In one hand, he is holding a small bottle, spilling out several orange pills.
Julia comes back inside, a little shaken, but her color is much better. I say to her, “Take the baby and see if you can calm her down. I’ll help Kim.” Julia scoops up the baby and cradles her, and the baby starts to quiet down right away.
I turn my attention back to Kim. “Would you like me to call someone for you? Some family, maybe? And
we need to call nine-one-one.”
She whimpers, “I need my sister. I’ll call her.” She looks at me pleadingly. “Can you call nine-one-one?”
I really, really don’t want to be the one to call this in. If the LPD gets wind that I have any part in another dead body sighting, they are not going to be pleased. In fact, my very presence here will probably cause nothing but a headache for everyone involved, especially me.
I nod at Kim and grab the phone lying on the coffee table. While Kim gets out her cell and calls her sister, I scurry over to Julia. “I need to get out of here. You know firsthand that the LPD and I aren’t exactly on the best of terms at the moment, partly because of Sanchez, but mainly because I’m me. Can you call nine-one-one? And pretend I was never here?”
Julia looks at me with a confused expression. “You’re just going to leave us?”
“That’s the plan.”
“That’s kind of a shitty thing to do,” she huffs.
I sigh. “You know as well as I do that if I’m here, the LPD will give Kim all kinds of grief.”
“Why would the police send someone out? Jason obviously did this to himself. All we need is the coroner.” The baby lets out a little cry, and Julia begins gently bouncing her up and down.
“There are drugs involved. The police will come out.” The drug problem in this area has doubled over the last couple of years. The LPD has been beefing up its drug unit lately, and they’ve been busting people left and right. I add, “Please? Because you’re my best friend and I really need you?”
Julia narrows her eyes at me. “You’re using my own words against me.”
“Is it working?”
“Okay, go. But you’ll have to walk back to work, because I drove.”
Bad Medicine Page 2
