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“Uh-huh. It’s not even a lie when you say it. Literally no one believes you.”
“Shut up. And I can say shut up because right this moment, you’re not my boss.”
“Wanna bet?” I repeat dryly. “Step carefully, Doctor Emeri.”
“Oh shut up. You’re in Jamaica, walking around with fifteen-thousand-dollar underwear in a shopping bag, and you’re lying to your husband about talking to me. You’re on your freaking honeymoon! And you’re sneaking in different directions.”
“I didn’t get marriedthis week, so sneaking away isn’t as crazy as it sounds. And I’m trying to help you solve a murder. Don’t throw your attitude at me because you’re sexually frustrated and dying to ride Tim Malone’s giant lumberjack penis.”
“Giant! Giant? Minka freakin’ Mayet! Don’t speak of his penis like you know what it looks like.”
“I can guess. The genes run strong in this family. And you mooning after this dude is getting old. Bed him. Or don’t bedhim. Torture him, or not. Do whatever you’re gonna do. But for the love of god, make up your mind and stick to your decision.”
“You’re being mean.” Her voice trembles, surprising me with how shaky it becomes. “You make it sound so easy to just approach a guy who scares the shit out of me. He and I aren’t…” she pauses, shaking her head so I hear the movement through the phone. “He’s from a world completely different to mine. He’s experienced and scary and all grown up. I’m just?—”
“Um… grown up? You are a twenty-six-year-old woman, Aubs. You are a doctor! You’re educated. Smart. Brave. You’re the second in charge inside a large, state-of-the-art-ishfacility, and you’re going toe-to-toe with the fricken mafia. You have this under control. You’re not some high school virgin being seduced by the creepy old guy who peaked in ninth grade and hangs out under the bleachers because that’s the only place he was ever cool.”
“Well…”
I stop at the edge of the street and look to make sure I won’t be mowed down by a moped. Then scoffing, I take off and charge toward the hotel. “He didn’t peak in ninth grade. I assure you.”
“No, but…”
“He’s all man. He’s got that lumberjack energy, and he’s gonna toss you over his shoulder like a caveman and devour you whole. You won’t even have to do anything. You just relax your muscles and let him do the folding.”
“You’re insane.” She groans in the back of her throat, breathing out a huff of frustration. “I’m not interested in dating Timothy Malone, anyway. We’re not compatible.”
“Uh-huh. Okay.” I slow at the front of the twenty-something story convention center and hotel and look up at the hundreds of windows on the front façade alone. “You keep riding that train to hell, and I’ll keep riding his brother to heaven. I know which I prefer.”
“Not appropriate,ChiefMayet.”
“What? I’m just some hoe in Jamaica, carrying around fifteen-thousand-dollar underwear and sneaking away from my husband. Who is Fletch’s contact here? Maybe I can pull them aside and have a chat.”
“You’re not supposed to be working.”
“And you’re not supposed to be lying to yourself. It’s bad for your health. Contact?”
“I don’t know! Some cop. Fletch isn’t sharing names.”
“Well…” Starting forward, I push through the revolving glass doors and escape the oppressive heat for the second time today. “I’ll just ask around and see what I see. Get me the name of his contact, but be sly about it. If Fletch finds out I’m working, he’s going to snitch to Archer. And if Archer finds out I’m working, he’s going to give me the disappointed stare.”
“Oh, the tragedy,” she moans. “Your life is so difficult.”
“Shush. He’s out there, fighting the crowds and buying me something nice, and I’m over here, sneaking around and lying. This is our honeymoon, Aubs! Thatcan’tbe a sign of a healthy marriage.”
ARCHER
“Ihave forty-five minutes, Fletch.” I stride off the elevator inside the Island Paradise Convention Center and make a beeline straight for the event coordinator’s office. “If Mayet finds out I’m working, she’s gonna strip the skin from my bones.”
“You’re looking for Veronica Cain. She’s forty years old, wears those big, framed glasses, and has wild, curling, brown hair. Her public image has her looking hippier than even Aubs’. Bright colors, MC Hammer pants, and necklaces. Lots and lots of necklaces.”
“And she’s in charge of a multi-billion-dollar convention contract?” I stride along a quiet hallway, the carpets a muted gray and the paintings on the walls, not at all representative of the money that flows through this place yearly. “She gets to work with that kinda cash?”
“Books,” Fletch mumbles. “Covers. Something about not judging. I dunno. So Savese is a sales rep for a massive pharmaceutical company whose current big-ticket item is a trial drug that wipes out cancer.”
“Really?” I pass one door after another, checking the name plates and moving on when I haven’t found the one with Veronica’s name on it. “Just like that? Cancer-be-gone?”
“That’s the general idea. It’s in pill form. Take one, once a day during active illness until it sends a person into remission, then you’re on it once a month for the rest of your long, un-sick life.”
