Drowning in Amber (A Marie Jenner Mystery Book 2) (20 page)

No matter what she said, I needed to clear my head. And the only way I knew to do that was to get high.

I desperately needed to get high. More than that, I needed to get away from her. She made me think about shit I really did not want to think about.

So I ran to the park, found the first junkie I could, and stepped in.

I HAD JUST
finished checking up on Naomi Hansen’s book club members when James came back, looking like he had been beaten with a large mental stick. I decided not to mention a thing about the book club dropping in on us, because he didn’t look like he could take any more foolishness. A book club helping us figure our case out—for a fee—was about as foolish a thing as I could think of.

“I take it things did not go well with the sergeant,” I said instead, and pointed at the coffee machine. “Want some?”

He shook his head and threw himself into a chair. “Do we have anything stronger?”

“I think so.”

I went into the other office, to the bottom right drawer of James’s dead uncle’s desk. There were a few fingers of some really decent scotch left, so I brought it out with two glasses. I poured him a little more than half and emptied the rest of the bottle into a glass for me. He took the glass and managed a smile.

“So, what happened?” I asked. He held up his hand, then tossed the drink back in one shot.

“Want mine?”

“If you don’t mind.” He took my proffered glass, and finished it almost as quickly as he had the first one. Then he leaned back and covered his eyes with one of his hands. “This has turned into a really bad day,” he muttered.

“What happened?”

“The cop who ran the sting you got caught in has decided that you tipped off the big guys, just by showing up. And apparently I didn’t help things at all by going there today.”

“They knew you went down to the park today?”

“Yes. Apparently, there’s surveillance everywhere down there.” His face closed. “I tried to tell them you weren’t involved. That you’d gone down on my order.”

“Stewart?”

“That’s the one. He wants our hides, he really does.”

“So what happens next?”

“We have another meeting scheduled with the good sergeant tomorrow morning. 9:00 a.m. Sharp.”

“What for?” Suddenly I wished I hadn’t given James my drink. I could have used it myself.

“She says we have to give all the information we’ve gathered to Stewart.”

“But James, this is our case! She can’t expect us to just hand over everything we’ve found out—”

“What have we found out, Marie? Really, what have we found out? We know that our client has visions. Or pretends she does. We know she lives right by the park where a lot of drug addicts—including the murder victim—hang out. The police already know all of this. What else do we know for sure?”

“I—I don’t know,” I muttered. He was right. We didn’t have much more. Not on the surface. Heck, not even when I took into account the little Eddie had told me about the turf war.

“I really could use another drink.”

He stalked over to the closet. It was still filled with his dead uncle’s stuff, and he began pulling apart the boxes, one by one. I left him to it, secretly hoping that he’d find something, so we could both have a drink.

He was absolutely right. We had no case. Nothing at all. And if Stewart was telling the truth, I’d wrecked his big sting operation just by wandering into the park on that particular night. Maybe we were idiots.

“Yahoo!” he cried, and backed out of the closet with a bottle of something blue in his hand.

“What is that?” I asked.

“No clue,” he said.

He poured a liberal dollop for me, and then another for himself. Then he knocked it back, shuddered, and poured himself another. He looked over at me as he put down the bottle and picked up his glass once more.

“Go ahead,” he said.

“Are you sure it’s something we should be drinking?” I had never seen a bottle of alcohol that colour blue before. “Maybe your uncle filled it with—”

“No, it’s actually pretty good. A little sweet, but you’ll get used to it,” he said. “Try it.”

I touched the drink to my lips and tasted. He was right. It was sweet, but seemed drinkable, so I took a big sip and swallowed. It warmed me all the way down. I sipped some more as James poured himself another big glass.

“To the two biggest idiots in the world!” he said, holding his glass up. I laughed and touched the edge of my glass to his, then we both drank to ourselves.

“Maybe we just need to learn how to do this right,” I said. “I mean, there are courses we could take, aren’t there?”

“I suppose,” he muttered, burying his face in his glass again. “It’s just so embarrassing, having my ineptitude thrown in my face like that.” He held up the nearly empty bottle. “More?”

“No, I’m good.”

As he poured the rest into his glass, I sipped a little more from mine and savoured the warmth as it slid down my throat.

“So she wants to see us tomorrow.”

“Yep.”

“Bright and early.”

“That’s right.”

“And we don’t really have anything much to say to her at all, do we? Clue-wise, I mean.”

“That’s exactly right.”

“Oh, what the hell,” I said, and slammed back the rest of my drink. “We’ll go tell her we don’t know a darned thing, then go for breakfast.”

“If she doesn’t lock us up for messing with a police investigation,” James said gloomily.

“We didn’t know, James. She can’t lock us up for that!”

“I believe her exact words were, ‘Ignorance of the law is no excuse,’” he said morosely. “She was really mad. Especially about
me
going to the park.”

“Oh.” I’d forgotten about that.

“She said that she thought I at least had a brain in my head. Thought I knew enough to stay away from dangerous people. Called it stepping on a hornet’s nest.” He shook his head. “I have to tell you, I would have paid a fee not to hear her call me stupid one more time.”

“She actually called you stupid to your face?”

James sighed and tipped his empty glass up, then set it back down and sighed again. “Not exactly. But she could have. And I would have deserved it.” He turned to me. “Want to go out and have some supper, then head back here and bunk for the night? We could pick up another bottle. Maybe not that blue stuff, but something. What do you say?”

It would have been so wonderful to stay and have a few more drinks, and then some food, and then see what happened, but I knew I couldn’t do that to Jasmine. She was expecting me.

“Sorry, James, I told Jasmine I’d be home tonight. She’s expecting me.”

“Oh.” He shrugged and grinned. “No chance of another cuddle, then.”

I felt my face heat. “No,” I said shortly, and grabbed my sweater. It was definitely time to go.

“Don’t forget we have to be at the police station at quarter to nine,” he said.

“I won’t.” I turned back to him, hand on the doorknob. “Are you staying here tonight? I thought your place was fixed.”

“Yeah, got the go-ahead to move back in, but I’ve decided to stay here tonight. Just to make sure that nothing more happens to the place. Just in case the dear sergeant is right, and I was stupid for going down to the park. I might figure out a way to get something more to drink, and maybe something to eat, but here is where I’ll stay.”

He grinned at me, warmly, and I smiled back.

“Make sure you lock the door,” I said, and headed for the door.

“Will do,” he replied. “Be safe, Marie.”

“You too, James. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

IT TOOK ME
an hour by bus to get to Jasmine’s place. By that time the bit of alcohol I’d had to drink was gone, leaving me with a dirty little headache and an oogey stomach. I couldn’t tell if it was because of the alcohol or because I hadn’t had anything decent to eat, but as I jumped off the bus and walked up to her neat little bungalow, I decided to try eating something decent first. I wasn’t quite ready to give up alcohol full-time. I had this sneaking suspicion I’d need it.

Two of Jasmine’s three kids were already in bed. Ella, her oldest daughter, was sitting at the table, doing homework. She always seemed to be doing homework. She smiled at me and wriggled her fingers in a quick hello before bending back over her books. I glanced at what she was poring over. Physics. Good luck, I thought, and turned away before she asked me for help.

Jasmine walked into the kitchen and gave me a quick hug. I hugged back. It was hard not to.

“You hungry?” she asked.

“Starving.”

“Sit,” she said, and turned to the refrigerator. “Ella, take that to your room. Marie needs space.”

Ella smiled at me again, gathered her books, and left.

“She’s really smart,” I said when I heard her door shut.

“I know,” Jasmine replied as she tossed chicken, rice, and vegetables into a saucepan and turned the heat up on the stove. “Much smarter than I was, at that age.”

“Yeah, I saw—she’s taking physics. What, she want to be a scientist, or something?”

“I think so, but that’s not what I mean,” Jasmine replied. She turned the food expertly in the saucepan, then went to the cupboard and pulled out a plate. “She understands that now is her time. She’s decided she doesn’t need a boyfriend. She’s concentrating on her studies. Wants to establish herself before she commits to a relationship.”

“Really?” I was surprised. I thought all girls between the ages of fifteen and thirty were in it for the relationships. “Did she say that?”

“I paraphrased for brevity,” Jasmine said, placing the heaping plate of steaming food before me. “She has told me, repeatedly, that she feels I wasted the best years of my life looking for the right mate.”

“Mate?” I giggled, then picked up the fork and tasted. Mouthwatering, as always. “She actually said that?”

“Among other things,” Jasmine said. She placed the pan in the sink and ran water into it. It hissed, and steam billowed up, touching Jasmine’s hair. Curls started almost immediately, and she frowned, pulling back. She hates her curly hair. “I don’t think she realizes that if I had done that, she would not be around to harass me about my life choices.”

She went to the cupboard above the sink and pulled out a bottle of scotch. “After you finish eating, we can toast bad life choices. Or maybe friendship.” She shrugged. “One or the other.”

“I don’t know if I should drink any more tonight,” I mumbled around a mouthful of truly exquisite chicken. “James and I had a couple before I left tonight.”

“Ah, one more won’t kill you,” she said. “I don’t often get to use my good crystal.” She opened a cupboard above the sink and, standing on tiptoe, fished out two etched glasses. They chimed like bells when she touched them together. “One more thing I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t been so determined for that perfect relationship.”

“Oh, you’d probably have crystal glasses,” I said. “Think of all the extra money you’d have if you hadn’t gotten married.”

“Probably,” she replied, and held one of the glasses up, so I could see the intricate floral pattern etched into it. “But I never in a million years would have picked something that looks like this.”

She poured two liberal scotches as I finished the last of the food. I thought for a second about licking the plate clean, but decided against it and grabbed the glass instead. Jasmine was right. One drink wouldn’t kill me.

“Here’s to all the men we’ve loved and, thank God, have lost.”

Jasmine laughed, and we chimed the glasses together, then drank, deeply. The scotch was good. Dark sweetness on the edges of the tongue and smoky warmth all the way down the throat.

“Speaking of men,” she said, reaching for the bottle and refilling our glasses. “What’s going on with Cutie Pie?”

“You mean James?” I knew she meant James. I picked up my glass and drank again. “Nothing much.”

“Oh really,” she said. I could tell by the look on her face she didn’t believe a word.

“Really.” I buried my face in my drink, one more time. Just to avoid her smirk. “I even applied for a different job.”

Her smile faded. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I’m stupid,” I said. “I thought the job might pay more. I can’t live here forever, you know.”

“I love having you here. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know. And I like working for James, I really do. But I’m afraid he expects more. And what was it that Ella said? I shouldn’t be wasting the best years of my life looking for a mate.”

Jasmine laughed and took another sip of her drink. “Ella doesn’t know everything. You two seem pretty right together.”

“Now, that’s not the truth, and you know it.” I took another drink myself. “Since I’ve known him, I’ve been caught in explosions, beaten up, in the hospital . . .”