Poison and Prejudice (An Eat, Pray, Die Humorous Mystery Book 4)

by Chelsea Field

  “He wouldn’t have,” Harper said, “because he’d know that Connor doesn’t have a sense of humor.”

  “He does,” I protested. “It’s just repressed.”

  “Are you telling me Connor’s sense of humor is in the closet? Because—”

  “How about we work toward saving these girls?” Connor suggested.

  Right. I hoped we could come up with something more useful than surveilling a dead woman’s home this time.

  “I had my IT specialist look into their finances. If the reports are to be believed, we have to rule out a financial motive because they’ve donated about fifteen million annually to the Hill Foundation for the past couple of years. That’s more than they could make from the girls no matter what they did with them.”

  Harper whistled quietly. “Which means we have to be looking at more personal motives.”

  We fell silent for a minute. Nobody felt the need to go over what those might be again.

  I fought through the unpleasantness. “In that case, we’d better get that GPS tracker on Zac’s car so we can see where he goes when I’m not around.”

  Connor gave me a nod. “Agreed.”

  Harper cracked a smile. “See, what would you guys do without me? And in my spare time today I’ve been researching fan forums online and found some information that might be critical to the case.”

  “Oh?” Connor sounded skeptical.

  “Absolutely. This is one of my favorites: ‘Everyone breathe. Alyssa isn’t dead, it’s an elaborate publicity stunt. You all know how our darling likes to be in the headlines, right? Well, a few months ago, she was spotted with celebrity fertility king, Dr. Dan. My bet is she’s hiding out in an overseas castle somewhere while she gets fat and unsightly and will return with beautiful babe in arms.’”

  “Very useful.”

  Harper was unfazed by Connor’s lack of enthusiasm. “This one’s the best of them all. ‘Look, I know some of you might question my sanity here, but suspend your disbelief for a minute and realize that vampires are real. I believe they heard of Alyssa shooting a vampire film, and curiosity got the better of them. When they watched her act, they fell in love and that was that. Yes, it would’ve been hard for Alyssa to step away from her adoring fans, but she’s probably vampire royalty now with a legion of eternal fans to go to. While my heart is heavy, I can’t blame her for her choice.’”

  Connor didn’t sigh or facepalm or anything like that. He simply sat and waited for Harper to finish. Then he addressed me as if she’d never spoken. “Do you have a copy of the list you gave Homeland?”

  I’d anticipated the request and slid it over to him.

  “Wait,” Harper said. “Okay my examples weren’t the best, but don’t you think it’s a good place to find some information? The fans might know something useful.”

  “Like how many vampires it takes to screw in a light bulb?” Connor asked.

  Harper and I stared at him. She recovered first. “Was that a joke? Because if it was, you might want to keep that sense of humor locked away in the closet.”

  Ouch. Siblings could be cruel.

  “They didn’t happen to mention Alyssa being spotted with any young African girls in the States, did they?” I asked. “Or have any wild conspiracy theories about human trafficking?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Connor was untouched by his sister’s verbal jab. “We need more information. The fan forums are a long shot, but you’re welcome to entertain yourself by keeping an eye on them. In the meantime, Izzy can you think of anyone we could question who might know something but wouldn’t go tattling to Zac? A rival maybe?”

  “What about Izzy’s abductor?” Harper asked.

  It was Harper’s turn to be stared at.

  “I’m serious. Think about it. If she’s been stalking Zac for a while, she’s probably been watching him when no one else was. In other words, when he’s most likely to be carrying out criminal activity.”

  Connor looked at me. “I hate to say it, but she has a point.”

  I slumped in my chair. Of course I would have to seek out the unhinged woman who grabbed me at knifepoint. Did this kind of thing happen to anyone else?

  My phone vibrating on my nightstand woke me. I groaned and thought about pulling my pillow over my head. Or throwing the phone against the wall, which would be more satisfying. It couldn’t be time to get up already.

  It wasn’t.

  Zac was calling me. At one in the morning. Why?

  “Hello?”

  “Isobel.” He sounded much too cheerful. “Could you come over and taste some food for me?”

  This was very out of character. So far he’d been a considerate client. Until he’d murdered his wife anyway. But he’d had ample opportunity to do away with me by now if that was his intention. Plus it would be stupid to call my number just before making me disappear.

  Maybe he was having a middle-of-the-night meeting with his fellow human traffickers and wanted to be able to join them for food.

  “Um sure, I can come.”

  “Fantastic. Thanks so much. I’ll make sure you get a bonus for this.”

  A bonus like an early grave? I wondered, before remembering that I’d ruled out that possibility. Still, I called Connor and Harper and gave them an update.

  “I’ll meet you there,” Connor said.

  Harper was less committed. She yawned so wide I heard her jaw crack over the phone. “Call me if it gets interesting, otherwise I’m gonna sleep this one out.”

  In theory, Homeland would have someone monitoring my bug once I got to Zac’s. But since I had no way of knowing for sure, it was comforting that Connor would be there for backup. We arrived at similar times, he looking like he’d stepped out of a formal business meeting, and me looking like… well, that I’d been dragged out of bed. And backward through a couple of bushes for good measure. I kissed him anyway, thankful for his ever steady support, and started to resent Zac’s late-night request for a different reason.

  My client opened the door with his hair mussed, chest bare, and… Was that a skirt? Mismatched socks completed the outfit, and I was guessing we weren’t about to meet with any human trafficking partners tonight. Not unless they had a dress code I was unaware of.

  “Isobel! You came!” He stepped toward me and trapped me in a hug. All I could think was that I hoped Jennifer wasn’t watching now. She’d never believe our relationship was strictly professional otherwise, which wouldn’t help in convincing her to talk tomorrow.

  Zac relinquished his hold, and I squeezed past him to find out what he’d been ingesting. Was he just drunk? Or had something been spiked?

  Gift baskets and bunches of white flowers were strewn all over the floor. Sympathy gifts for the man who lost his wife, albeit his separated wife. The baskets looked unopened, so at least he hadn’t been feasting on their dubious contents.

  The bottle of Don Julio tequila we’d been drinking earlier, however, was empty.

  Oh boy.

  “I’m so hungry,” Zac was saying behind me. “I ordered pizza.”

  “At least you’ve had plenty to drink.” I pointed at the bottle.

  “Yes.” My sarcasm went over his head. “You’d tasted that, so I knew it was safe.”

  Safe from added substances, not so safe from alcohol poisoning. There was no point in saying it.

  Considering his state of dress, Zac was pretty good at speaking. Maybe he’d been practicing his lines before I arrived.

  “What happened to your clothes?” I asked.

  “Oh, I got hot. I wanted something more comfortable.” He lifted the skirt in demonstration, and I learned his underwear had been placed in the uncomfortable category.

  Yikes. I stepped over some more gift baskets and narrowly missed crushing a bunch of white tulips to reach the couch. The bottle was definitely empty. And there were photos of Alyssa and Zac spread over the coffee table. He must’ve been taking a trip down memory lane.

  Because h
e loved her? Or was it guilt that had him obsessing?

  Obsessing and drinking, I amended as he kicked a gift basket flying and squished a bunch of innocent lilies as he tottered after me.

  “Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll fix you something to eat,” I suggested.

  “Pizza,” he said.

  I hoped he’d actually ordered pizza and not just thought he’d ordered pizza. Or that he hadn’t ordered pizza from his dry cleaner or something. But he seemed mostly coherent in thinking and speech. Except for the skirt thing.

  In the hopes it would soak up some of the alcohol, I found some bread in the kitchen and slathered butter over it. Then I tested both the bread and butter and brought it over to him. “Eat this to tide you over while the pizza arrives.”

  He ate it obediently, his gaze flicking from me to the photos on the table.

  “We ate bread on our honeymoon, you know.” Despite his mouth being full of dough, he gave the words great importance.

  “Did you now?”

  “It was a great honeymoon. The best I’ve ever been on.”

  As far as I knew, it was the only one he’d been on, but I made encouraging noises nonetheless.

  “Lyssie was so amazing. I could barely tear my eyes away from her to look at the giraffes and the lions and the wildebeests and the zebras and elephants and—”

  “Animals.”

  “Yeah. That’s right. Animals. She was an animal in the bedroo—”

  I snatched up a photo of Zac and Alyssa and some kids and shoved it in front of his face. “What about this one?”

  His smile slackened and focused again. “Those are orphans. We saved them. There were so many.” He patted his stomach. “They had huge bellies like a pregnant woman but from starvation, did you know? And the girls had shaved heads like the boys because of bugs and stuff. Lyssie wanted a photo of her handing a doll to one of them for the media, but our translator guy said they needed food and clothes more than dolls. That’s how we got the idea for it.”

  “The orphanages?”

  “Yeah.”

  I waited, but he didn’t elaborate. While he was drunk, I wasn’t confident enough that he’d forget everything to ask him outright about human trafficking. I scanned through the photos again and found one with Alyssa and Zac standing next to an adult African male holding a rifle. “Who’s this?”

  Zac squinted. “Our safari guide and translator.”

  “Why did he need a gun to translate?”

  “Oh, he protected us too. From lions and tigers and hippos and—”

  “Animals.”

  “Yeah. Animals.”

  He stroked Alyssa’s face on one of the photos, and a tear rolled down his cheek. “I miss her so much.” He exhaled hard, and more tears followed the path of the first. Soon liquid was dripping from his nostrils as well.

  I patted his arm awkwardly. “I know you do.”

  He took that as an invitation to snuggle and wept on my shoulder for a solid couple of minutes. I kind of hoped for his sake that Homeland wasn’t listening in.

  Finally he cried himself out, but he didn’t uncurl himself from my shoulder. Just stayed there in silence until I wondered whether he might’ve fallen asleep. That was when he spoke again. “You’re so nice. Have you ever slept with a celebrity?”

  “Uh, no.”

  He trailed a hand down my leg. “Then tonight is your lucky night.”

  I could think of a few things I’d rather be doing right now.

  I detached myself from his drunken embrace and shuffled to the edge of the couch. “That’s sweet of you to offer, but I already have a boyfriend. Why don’t we put you to bed, by yourself I mean.” And maybe it was time to call in the reinforcements and get him sobered up. He was drunk enough that I’d feel guilty leaving him alone. He could forget he wasn’t supposed to eat and wind up poisoning himself on one of the all-too-convenient gift basket goodies. Especially since that pizza hadn’t arrived.

  I left my jacket and the Homeland audio transmitter on the couch and went to the bathroom. Then I twisted my Taste Society ring. “Um, no one’s been poisoned, but I have a very inebriated client who would benefit from some counteracting drugs. If that’s allowed.” I was pretty sure my suspension wouldn’t impact the medical services for my client. Still, I was relieved when my phone rang. “State your ID please.”

  “Shade 22703.”

  “What’s your location?”

  I gave them the address, texted Connor a quick update, and returned to the couch to find Zac crying again. Long, long minutes later, I heard a knock on the door and rushed to answer it. The sooner Zac had sobered up, the sooner I could get back to bed. And take off my T-shirt that was clinging uncomfortably to my skin after all of Zac’s tears.

  My anticipation withered when I saw who the Taste Society had sent.

  Levi. Dammit. Of course it was Levi.

  He, on the other hand, lit up when he saw me. “Miss me already, did you? How’s your arm?”

  I elected to only answer his second question. “Much better, thank you. My client, however…”

  Zac was still on the couch, still wearing nothing but a skirt. My attempts to move him to the bedroom had been unsuccessful, and I’d felt too bad about pulling away from him while he sobbed to grab something to cover him with.

  Levi took in the chaos. “See, this is what I like about you. Never a dull moment.”

  I covered a yawn and vowed to myself I’d tell him as soon as we got Zac sorted out. “Always glad to entertain.”

  We started picking our way over the flowers and gift baskets. Levi snuck a glance at my shoulder. “Did you have a water balloon fight?”

  “Um…”

  We reached Zac, and Levi snapped into doctor mode. “How’re you feeling, sunshine?”

  “Sad. Sleepy. I miss Lyssie.”

  “Oh, that’s no good.” Levi moved competent hands over Zac as he talked, checking his vitals and assessing his condition. “But I’ve got something here that should make you feel better. Then you can have a nice rest and wake up to a new day. What do you say to that?”

  Zac hiccupped his positive feelings toward the matter and allowed Levi to inject him with the counteracting drugs. Drugs that would help his body neutralize the ridiculous amounts of alcohol floating around his bloodstream.

  “Good man. Now how about we get you to bed?”

  For some reason Levi’s suggestion was better received than mine. Zac lurched to his feet and, with the pair of us guiding him, made it into the bedroom without crushing any more flowers. I flung the covers back just in time for him to collapse onto the mattress and pulled the sheet over top so Levi wouldn’t have to witness his manly bits under the skirt. Not that it would bother a doctor, I supposed, so it might have been more for my sake.

  Levi shot me a smile like he knew what I was thinking.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  He bowed. “It’s always a pleasure to come to the rescue. Especially if you’re involved. That’s why I’m quick to volunteer when your ID comes up.”

  Oh no.

  Zac’s eyes flicked open. “You’re wasting your time, doc. She wouldn’t even sleep with me because she’s got a boyfriend.”

  Levi arched an eyebrow. “Does she?”

  Crap.

  “Is that why I saw Connor on the street outside?”

  Double crap.

  “Um, yeah. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that…”

  Levi patted Zac on the arm. “You get some rest, okay? Tomorrow will be better.”

  Zac nodded, and I followed Levi out of the room, pulling the door closed behind us. I’d put this dreaded conversation off too long, and now it would be worse. Much worse. Idiot.

  Useless adrenaline shot through me, and I launched into an explanation. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I mean, when I said my life was too complicated, I really believed it. But then when Connor asked me out, I don’t know, I just…” Levi was listening politely, but I c
ould tell he was hurt. I’d hurt him. Something I’d never wanted to do. And my words weren’t helping. “I’m sorry,” I said again. “I should’ve told you.”

  “How long?” he asked.

  “Just before Christmas.”

  Levi flashed his dimples at me. “Well that’s great. I’m glad you’re happy.”

  He gave one of his signature bows and let himself out.

  I stared after him, nausea and regret squeezing my stomach. For the first time since I’d met him, his smile hadn’t reached his eyes.

  14

  I made it back to my comfortable bed at last, but after my run-in with Levi, I slept badly. Four hours later, I hauled myself upright and avoided looking in the mirror too closely.

  Jeff and Joe were waiting for me in a blue minivan today, but I resisted the urge to tease them about it. Whoever thought working for Homeland Security was glamorous?

  “Did you get the DNA results yet?” I felt personally invested in the outcome after all the effort I’d gone through to acquire the samples.

  “Yes. It’s not a match.”

  “What?”

  “Zac must have had help. Or Alyssa scratched someone hard enough to draw blood in an unrelated incident.”

  “Well, she was a little catty,” I said before silently apologizing to Meow.

  Joe and Jeff shared a look. “Okay, we’ll put that in the file.” Joe’s tone and Jeff’s smirk suggested they had zero intention of doing that.

  Nice that my ineptitude gave them some common ground.

  “The coroner says there’s a high probability based on the way the victim’s skull was caved in—”

  I flinched.

  “Sorry. That the injury to her head is more consistent with a backward fall onto something solid rather than an overhead blow from a moving weapon. Which means we could be looking at manslaughter instead of murder, though the blood under her fingernails suggests otherwise.”

  “Is it possible she could’ve just fallen with no one at fault?”

  “You wouldn’t hide the body if no one was at fault.”

  “Oh. Right. Of course.”

  Jeff and Joe shared another look.

  “I know we only asked you to start keeping a list yesterday, but is there anyone you can think of that Zac is close enough to that they might help him dispose of his ex-wife?”