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

by Chelsea Field

  I went to bed.

  There was a message waiting for me on my phone from Harper.

  Tailed the doc to his house in Studio City after the funeral and waited around. He was picked up by a black limo, which I tailed west, but they must have been suspicious because they did a U-turn, drove for a mile, and did a second U-turn back the way they’d come. I couldn’t follow without giving myself away for certain, so I backed off and lost them. The license plate belongs to a written-off Nissan sedan, so no help there either.

  Damn. Now I needed cheering up. But the only thing that would do it would be to rescue those girls.

  I closed my eyes, but my brain flicked between their beautiful, trusting faces and Doctor Evil’s artificial one. It wasn’t fair. In the movies, the good guys always win, but in real life, the bad guys have the advantage. They’re prepared to break rules and succeed at any cost, while the good guys are constrained by laws and ethics.

  Doctor Evil was guilty. He had to be. But one wrong move from us and he’d get rid of those living, breathing, desperate souls as quickly as he disposed of his gloves after a consult.

  He’d seen me today at the hotel. Would that have raised questions? And what if he had spotted Harper tailing him? Would that be enough for him to say goodbye to his one and a half million from Taryn to avoid the risk of a lifetime in prison? Gosh, I hoped not. But he might be jumpy with Alyssa so recently dead.

  As I lay there, achingly far from sleep, I realized that I couldn’t do this for another week. Couldn’t live with the imminent threat hanging over the heads of these girls.

  And it was then I hatched a desperate plan. A plan that proved that my five months as a Shade had changed me irrevocably.

  I wasn’t innocent anymore. Life wasn’t as simple as right or wrong. There were so many shades of gray. I guess my job title had become more apt than I’d realized. I understood Connor’s choices better, how he’d come to be the way he was. I wasn’t sure my parents would understand who I was becoming. But I was certain of one thing: that these girls were more important than my preconceived morals.

  This time, no matter the cost, I couldn’t let the bad guys win.

  Connor would volunteer to do the dirty work for me, but it wouldn’t leave my hands any cleaner. And if it went south, I was already risking my position with the Taste Society. I wouldn’t risk his too. No. I’d have to do it myself. Alone.

  Tomorrow I would force Doctor Evil to tell me the truth.

  But first I’d have to pay a visit to Levi.

  With my mind made up, I drifted off to sleep, praying that Homeland would get back to me the next morning and save me from myself…

  25

  Homeland didn’t save me from myself.

  I checked under my dead cactus for Etta’s expected goods and sure enough found three shiny silver keys waiting for me. The dead cactus was left over from when I used to drag a dining chair out on the stair landing to transform it into a balcony. Etta had taken the idea and one-upped me by getting an outdoor sofa.

  Because the landing hadn’t been designed for use as a balcony, the sofa took up most of its width and meant Oliver and I had to squeeze past it every time we went up and down the stairs. But since she let us use it, and since like Connor said, I was a pushover, we didn’t ask her to move it. She’d recently bought a key lime tree to go next to it, and the tree was flourishing in contrast to my cactus.

  That woman one-upped me at everything.

  But at least I had some shiny new keys. Which meant the plan I’d come up with last night was doable.

  The police cruiser was no longer on the street below, but I didn’t check to see if Etta was around to thank. Harper and Oliver would have to wait one more day for my intervention. Unless my plan ended up with me in jail. Then they’d have to sort it out themselves.

  I sent a message to Levi. The first time I’d ever used the private number he’d entrusted to me.

  Hey, it’s Isobel Avery here. Could I speak with you? In person?

  Then I went about feeding Meow and making myself breakfast, trying not to think about what I’d do if he never replied. I’d given him plenty of reason not to.

  Sure. I have the day off and will just be pottering around the house. Come whenever.

  I drove to the address he’d provided in Van Nuys in San Fernando Valley, stopping once on the way. It wasn’t a neighborhood I’d visited before, but the lot sizes were larger than I was accustomed to in LA, and million-dollar homes sat a stone’s throw from much more modest ones. Wide, tree-lined streets gave the area a relaxed vibe I found refreshing.

  Levi’s home was an inviting A-frame building with a freshly painted white clapboard exterior, charcoal tile roof, and sturdy stone chimney. Spanish lavender and a white-flowering plant I didn’t recognize sprang up between healthy evergreens to add a cheerful, homey feel despite the winter season. Seems he was good at tending plants as well as humans. I wandered up the footpath and came to a bright yellow door. Dana’s door had been yellow too I recalled, but while it had struck me as incongruous for her, the color suited Levi perfectly. I’d always considered him akin to sunshine.

  That made me a dark gray cloud.

  Hoping I wasn’t going to make things worse, I rang the doorbell.

  He came to the door in a scruffy T-shirt and shorts dotted with several colors of paint. It didn’t soften the force of his attractiveness. Two giant dogs snuffled inquisitively behind him. “Ah the ever-charming Isobel,” he greeted me, but his voice didn’t hit the warm richness I’d grown accustomed to. “Sorry about the clothes. I’ve been restoring this beautiful old 1950s credenza I found on Craigslist. What can I do for you?”

  “I was hoping we could talk. If you’re not too busy that is. Um, these are for you.” I held out the flowers I’d picked up on the way: a bunch of yellow tulips I’d chosen to reflect his cheerful nature.

  He accepted them with a sad smile. “I’ve never had a girl bring me flowers before. They’re very nice, thank you.” He stepped aside. “Come on in. Waffles and Syrup won’t hassle you.”

  Waffles looked like he was a wolfhound or deerhound cross, while Syrup must have had Great Dane somewhere in her bloodline. Their heads reached as high as my waist, but they backed off as I came in, looking nervous.

  “They’re both rescues and can be a bit shy around strangers,” Levi explained, watching our interaction.

  I squatted down. “Hey guys, I won’t hurt you.” Syrup stayed where she was, but Waffles decided to test out my sincerity. He crept forward and sniffed my face tentatively. I inched my hand up to pat his chest. He must have concluded my pets were okay because he responded by licking my nose.

  The problem is, a giant dog’s tongue is also… well, giant. The result was an instant saliva facial. I reeled backward and fell on my butt.

  Levi smothered a laugh. Waffles looked puzzled. And Syrup reversed another step to be safe.

  I wiped my face on my sleeve, clambered to my feet, and resumed petting Waffles. “I hope this means we’re friends now, boy.” He wagged his tail.

  “Well done,” Levi said. “It’s rare for him to bond with a new person that fast. Er, sorry about the dog slobber though.”

  “No problem. It just took me by surprise.” Truth be told, I’d had worse kisses.

  The interior of Levi’s home loosely followed a mid-century modern theme with lots of natural light, warm timbers, and color leant by the thick rugs, furniture, and occasional boldly painted feature wall. The stone fireplace, quirky light fixtures, and indoor plants added even more character.

  The result was cozy and comfortable; not trying too hard to impress yet charming all the same. I would’ve been hard-pressed to guess Levi’s decorating style beforehand, but again I felt it suited him absolutely. A man who’d gone to war and come back to cherish the important things in life. Home, family and friends (including the furry kind), beauty, comfort, and safety.

  The four of us made our way into the kitchen where he tr
immed the stems of the tulips—the way florists said you were supposed to—before plonking them in a mug with big black letters that spelled out WORLD’S OKAYEST DOCTOR.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “A cup of tea would be great.”

  He turned on the gas burner and placed the kettle over it to heat up.

  “Your home is beautiful,” I told him.

  He flashed his dimples at me. “Thank you. I’ve been slowly doing it up over the past five years, although the bank still owns more of it than I do.”

  Well, he was doing a damn fine job.

  “What happened to your eye?” he asked me.

  I rubbed it, wishing I’d had some of Zac’s concealer to do a better job of covering it up. “It’s kind of a long story.” One I didn’t want to get into right now. Children’s drawings on the fridge caught my attention. I gestured to them. “Friends of yours?”

  “My nieces and nephews. I have six, which seems like a lot unless you also know I have four siblings.”

  “Wow. Your family get-togethers must be quite an event.”

  “Most definitely. But the fun kind.”

  He finished making tea for both of us and invited me to join him on the back porch. We sat down on a padded swing seat and looked out over the yard. It was a large one, with a well-kept lawn, a border of more evergreens and winter flowers, and a huge old tree that housed a tire swing and a cubby house. Presumably for the nieces and nephews, but I could imagine Levi enjoying the tire swing when the mood struck him. Syrup and Waffles bounded around the yard, scattering the neatly raked piles of leaves waiting to be carted away.

  I leaned back in the comfortable seat and sighed. It was so peaceful here. A haven. And I was about to ruin it. I’d been wanting to apologize to Levi for days, but there always seemed to be something else to do. Now I’d have to deliver the apology in one breath and ask for a favor in the next. Nice going, Izzy. Unfortunately, no one had invented a time machine lately, and if they had, I wouldn’t have been able to afford it.

  “I wanted to apologize again.”

  “There’s no need—”

  “No. Please. Let me finish. I know I’ve been a coward in dealing with you when you’ve been nothing but kind and honest and gracious with me. You’ve always helped me feel better both physically and emotionally, and yet I put my desire to avoid discomfort over your well-being. I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, but it doesn’t excuse me if I did. You deserve more.”

  “You’re not helping.”

  The words hit me hard, and I stood up. “I’m sorry, I’ll—”

  “No. Sit down. I mean you’re not helping by being so sweet about it. You know when we first met, when you’d been drugged with GHB-X? Connor told me what you were doing at that guy’s house, trying to save another Shade. Then you woke up and were so disoriented and cute and obviously attracted to me that I hoped we might make something of it. But that didn’t give me a claim on you. Of course, I’m bummed you chose the Glacier over me—”

  I snorted. “You call him the Glacier?”

  He smiled. “Doesn’t everyone? The point is, yes, you took a while to tell me about your new relationship, but that’s not really what I’m upset about. And your being so concerned for me and winning over Waffles makes it worse because you’re just proving you’d make a great girlfriend. But you can stop beating yourself up about it now.” Syrup came over to say hello, and he trailed his fingers down her back. “I hope you didn’t give yourself that black eye on my account.”

  “Well, I couldn’t find any black widow spiders to give me an excuse to see you…”

  He barked out a laugh. “And your cat wouldn’t cooperate either?”

  Waffles shoved his nose into my lap for some attention since Syrup was hogging Levi. “Nah, she likes Dudley now—that’s the dog that scared her the first time.” I focused on petting Waffles some more before broaching the next topic. “I’m not as nice as you think. I had a second reason for coming today.”

  “Good. I hope it’s something truly atrocious so I can convince myself I dodged a bullet.”

  I shifted uncomfortably. “It might be. I was hoping you could get me a Taste Society antidote and show me how to use it. Off the record.”

  “For what?”

  “Hellsbane.”

  The humor disappeared from his tone. “Why?”

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t need an answer to that. I don’t want to lie to you, but I don’t want to get you involved any more than I have to either. Plausible deniability and all that.”

  Syrup turned around and planted her butt on his lap, her front paws still on the ground. The ridiculous sight made it hard to take his next words seriously, but there was no softness in them. As a matter of fact, the steeliness there reminded me of Connor. “No. I can’t do that. You can tell me the truth, or you can leave empty-handed.”

  There was no doubt in my mind that he meant it. Reluctantly I launched into the whole story. The girls I was trying to save and the desperate way I was planning to do it.

  He sat there and digested it for a minute, his hands still stroking Syrup. “Okay. I’ll help. But let me get you something better.”

  26

  Half an hour later, I left Levi’s home with two syringes in my bag instead of the one I’d asked for. I wasn’t sure if the stuff I was carrying now was better or worse than the clump of hair from Zac’s shower. Though this might be more helpful if I ran into Jennifer again.

  Less helpful if I ran into the cops.

  As I slid inside my Corvette, I noticed a message from Zac asking me to join him for breakfast. Then my phone started ringing. An unknown number.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Isobel Avery?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s Taryn Powers here.” She sounded shaken, unsure. Considering she’d gotten angry rather than intimidated when I’d threatened to expose her secret, I wondered what could’ve rattled her so badly. “I… I think you might’ve been right about the girls.”

  My heart jumped into my throat. “Why? What happened?”

  “Dr. Dan woke me up at six a.m. saying Sabina was in labor, and I’d better come straight away or I’d miss the birth. I didn’t have time to call you. I had to run out the door and jump in the limo.”

  Oh no. He must have been suspicious and hurried it along.

  A baby cried falteringly in the background. “Shh, sweetie, it’s all right. Anyway, during the birth, I held Sabina’s hand and she slipped me this crumpled-up note. I thought it might be an address so I could send her photos or something, but I looked up the translation on Google and it says: ‘Please help. Bad death coming.’”

  Her voice broke off, and the baby tested out her lungs again. “You have to go and save her. She gave birth to my beautiful Willow and…” She choked again. “I only just got home where I could get to my phone. Please stop them. I’d hate for Willow’s start in life to be marred by this.”

  “Did Dr. Dan take the limo with you?”

  “Yes, driven by the translator like usual.”

  Had he even been home since Harper had lost them last night? Regardless, my best chance at finding him would be at his house. Both his car and his bed were there, so either he was returning to the facility where they were holding the girls, in which case there was nothing I could do, or he’d be going home, at least temporarily.

  Which meant that’s where I would go right now to enact my desperate plan. There was no time to lose.

  I just hoped I wasn’t already too late.

  I hightailed it to Studio City as fast as I could. Well, as fast I could without breaking any traffic laws. Slamming to a stop at a yellow light, I noted the irony of being afraid of getting a traffic violation given what I was about to do.

  But now wasn’t the time to examine my cognitive dissonance.

  Twenty minutes later, I squeezed my way into a parking space outside Dr. Dan’s place and gathered my things. I had the keys Etta ha
d made me. My trusty Taser. The handcuffs I’d confiscated from Jennifer. And the two syringes I’d gotten from Levi. One was filled with a lethal dose of morphine. Untreated, it would cause respiratory failure within six to twelve hours. But the victim would only be cognizant for five to ten minutes, so that would create a sense of urgency. The other held the antidote naloxone. Best not to get them mixed up.

  This was the plan: let myself into Doctor Evil’s house, take him by surprise with the Taser, and handcuff him to something solid. Then I’d explain my intentions to allow the fear to set in, inject him with the morphine, and suggest he better tell me what I wanted to know fast if he wanted the antidote.

  It was a tactic I’d seen Connor use once, except he’d used it on a hitman and had injected caffeine and only pretended it was a deadly poison. I was doing it on a respected member of the medical community and using the real thing because I couldn’t risk him realizing it was fake.

  Even if this went right, there was a good chance I’d end up in jail. And not just for a night this time.

  Of course, I was hoping it would be Doctor Evil’s word against mine, and that at the point he told anyone, he’d be neck deep in criminal charges for human trafficking and whatever else law enforcement could throw at him. Then my word might carry more weight than his.

  I slid out of the car on shaking legs and walked up to the front door. Then I readied the keys and the Taser and mentally ran through my new self-defense moves in case things didn’t go to plan.

  Oh gosh, I hoped they went to plan.

  Not wanting to risk alerting him with the sound of a key unless I had to, I tried the handle. Adrenaline surged through me as the cold metal turned in my hand. I sucked in a deep breath, aimed the Taser at chest height, and pushed the door inward.