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“Actually, it is. Rachel says Daniel stopped drinking a long time ago because of his medications,” Elias goes on. “And I remember once, I offered him a drink and he told me the same thing.”
“So someone talked him into having a drink and then slipped the drugs into his glass?” I theorize.
“Or someone slipped the drugs into his glass and persuaded him to drink,” Thomas says.
Same thing.
“Regardless, Rachel believes Daniel was murdered. And so do we,” Elias says.
I tap my fingers on the couch. “And why are you telling me this?”
“Haven’t you been listening?” Thomas asks me. “Like Eli said, you’re being seriously considered to fill his seat.”
“And because we want your help,” Elias tells me. “We need your help.”
My eyes narrow. “Help in what?”
Elias stands up and begins to pace the room. “You were friends with Daniel, were you not?”
“We did business together,” I admit.
“So you knew him well?”
Not that well, but…
I shrug. “I knew him.”
Elias looks at me. “Then maybe you have some idea about who might have done this.”
I throw him a confused look as I tap my finger on the table. “Seems like the culprit was right here at this Club.”
“We’ll look into that,” Thomas assures me. “We need you to look at… other possibilities.”
Which means they’d rather think the murderer was not a member of Ambrosia. Of course. Who would want to acknowledge the fact that they have a murderer in their midst?
Or maybe they already know who the murderer is and are trying to protect him. Maybe they’re even the ones behind Daniel’s murder. They were the closest to him, after all, the most likely to be able to persuade him to enjoy a drink.
I touch my chin. Hm. This is turning out to be interesting.
I look at Elias. “May I ask why me?”
“Because I happen to trust you,” Elias answers. “And because I’m told you have some excellent detectives working for you. You did find Goldberg and stop him before we could, after all.”
“I see.”
That was only because Owen Reed gave me a tip.
“Besides, didn’t you help figure out who stole Amos’s will?” Elias asks.
Amos was my father’s friend, the only one I liked of all my father’s friends. He was the one who invited me to Ambrosia.
“I’m a businessman, not a detective,” I remind them.
Thomas glares at me. “Boy, we are placing our trust in you here and you dare- ”
Elias holds up a hand to silence him, then looks at me. “Continue.”
“But I’d be happy to help,” I say.
I admit I am curious to find out who murdered Lawson. Besides, if the murderer really is a member of Ambrosia, he could strike again. I’d rather be out of striking distance.
Elias smiles. “Glad to hear it.”
Thomas just grunts.
I get up and button my coat. “Is that all?”
Elias nods.
I nod back, at him first and then at Thomas. “Evening, gentlemen.”
As I walk to the door, I run my fingers through my hair.
I knew I had a bad feeling about this. Still, at least, the bad news doesn’t concern me. Or does it?
I’ll have to sort this out as quickly as I can, but for now, it’s time to go home.
I glance at my watch. If I hurry, I won’t have to wake Leah.
~
She’s still awake, lost in thought inside her closet. Around her, various dresses hang wherever they can- on the backs of chairs, on the walls, on cabinet doors, on the mirror. Her gaze goes from one to another as she bites her thumb.
“Crisis?” I ask as I step in.
Leah turns to me and her face lights up. She grabs my arm and pulls me to the middle of the room.
“I need your help.”
“With?”
She gestures to the dresses. “Pick one.”
I look at her. “What do you need a dress for?”
“I’m meeting the other prizes tomorrow,” she answers.
Right. That’s tomorrow at Fiona’s house.
Leah sighs. “I don’t know what to wear.”
I look around. “Clearly.”
“So pick one.” She tugs at my sleeve like a little girl. “Please.”
I touch my chin as I look at the dresses, which all look nice. They all look quite similar, actually. All pastel colors. All with high waists, some with sashes. All knee-length with short sleeves. The differences lie in little things, which don’t really matter to me.
I touch my neck. “I think any of them will do.”
Leah frowns. “I don’t want the dress to just ‘do’, though. I want it to look good on me and for me to look good in it. As good as I can look with my big belly and swollen legs, that is.”
“Hey.” I place my hand on her cheek. “You’re beautiful whatever you wear.”
She blushes.
“Besides, you don’t have to impress anyone. You’re not even there to make friends, unless you want to. Just be yourself and have fun.”
Slowly, the corners of her lips turn up to form an enchanting smile. She takes my hand off her cheek and squeezes it.
