I looked at the shoes like I was sizing up a new enemy. Who knew shoes came with so much responsibility?
“Actually I have a great idea,” she said, smiling and taking a step closer to me. My instinct was to step back, away from her, but I held my ground and tried to match her grin, which was predatory in nature. “You and I should go out tonight.”
Now Jenn wanted to go out with me? What the hell was going on today?
“Go out?” I repeated. “Like just us two?”
“Yeah. There’s a new club that opened near Pioneer Square. I think it would be fun. We haven’t had a chance to get to know each other yet.”
Oh, God, this was the worst idea on earth. Clubbing with Jenn? I couldn’t imagine a greater hell.
“I’m not really much of a club girl,” I admitted as politely as possible, hoping she got the hint.
“Neither am I. I mean, look at me. I’m thirty-one. I’m way too old for that shit, but that’s why it’ll be fun. And then you get to break in your shoes too.”
I’d rather break in my shoes by standing in a pile of Fat Rabbit’s shit, but I didn’t say that. I had to wonder what the hell was in it for her.
She put her tawny hand on my shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. She looked me straight in the eyes. Hers were all glittery and emerald and doe-eyed. Damn her, was she trying to glam me or something?
“I think it would make our man really happy if we did this,” she added.
I flinched. Our man? This was getting to be too much.
“I’ll think about it,” I said and turned away from her, picking up my bag and heading over to the den before she said something else that made me want to punch her lights out.
I hesitated at the door and listened. I couldn’t hear Dex working away inside. I looked sideways at Jenn, who was watching me, her arms crossed, then I knocked.
No answer. I knocked again.
“Dex?” I said loudly. Suddenly I had an image of him passed out on the floor, blood streaming from his nose, a tragic consequence of having played God with his medication. I pounded harder at that thought, the door rattling.
“Dex!” I yelled.
Finally it swung open and Dex was looking at me, worried as anything, but alive.
“What, what is it?” he said. He looked at me and then over at Jenn, who just shrugged at him and turned her attention to the fridge.
My heart was still beating fast but I gave him a look as nonchalant as possible. “Sorry, I didn’t think you could hear me.”
“I had my earphones on,” he explained and opened the door wider for me.
I walked in and he took his seat at the computer. He was in the middle of editing the footage we took. I paused and gestured to the door.
“Do you mind if I close the door?” I asked.
He was puzzled but didn’t protest when I did so. I was sure Jenn wasn’t going to be too happy about that.
I sat down on the bed as he turned in his chair to face me, leaning forward, elbows on his thighs, hands clasped.
“What’s the problem? Are you OK?” he asked. His eyes roamed my face inquisitively.
“Are you OK?” I blurted out.
“I’m…OK. A bit dizzy, actually, and tired, but I’ve been staring at this f**king screen for the last few hours. Why? Do I look wonky?”
His eyes were a bit droopy, now that he mentioned it. But I was relieved to see that he seemed to be functioning relatively normally. And I knew that the dizziness was just the Valium working through him. He would have had to take another dose of his pills while I was gone.
“You look fine. But I have something for you.”
I reached into my purse and pulled out the baggie of weed. I held it in the air without giving it to him. His eyes lit up.
“Ah, my sweet Rebecca,” he said and reached for it.
I held it back. “No. First, tell me why you’re buying a quarter pound of pot.”
His mouth twisted into a confused smirk. “For the same reason I buy 26 ounces of Jack Daniels?”
“So you quit smoking but you’re smoking pot instead now. How does that work?”
“I don’t know, Perry Mason. It’s something to smoke. Since when did you become a narc?”
“I’m not a narc,” I said, looking down at my feet, but couldn’t find anything to add to that. The truth was, I didn’t really have a problem with him smoking pot. It was the fact that he would be doing so while on Valium, missing meds and taking the rest of his mystery pills. But I couldn’t say anything about that without blowing my cover.
“Perry?”
I looked up at him. He leaned in closer to me.
“What’s wrong?” He reached over with his hand for my knee. I moved it out of the way.
“Nothing, sorry. I guess I’m just weird about drugs now.”
“As you should be. Just don’t worry about me, OK, kiddo?”
I nodded and then gave him his weed. I wondered if he was going to place it in yet another hollowed-out book but instead he just stuck it in the top drawer of his desk. Interesting how it wasn’t as secret as his meds.
“So how was the lunch?” he asked.
“Great. Rebecca is…really cool.”
“I knew you guys would hit it off,” he said with a knowing grin and turned the chair to face the computer. “I’ve been going through our stuff and it’s looking f**king rad so far. Still waiting to hear back from Dr. Hasselback about tomorrow night, though. We don’t have quite enough here for an episode but what we do have is f**ked up. Take a look at the handprint.”
I got up and peered over Dex’s shoulder at the screen. His black, shiny hair smelled like shampoo and some natural musk of his. I’m ashamed to admit that I closed my eyes for a split second and breathed it in deeply like a love-struck weirdo.
I turned my attention to the screen before Dex caught on. The handprint that we saw through the screen last night looked really good and bright on the computer. Clear as day, almost.
Then Dex zipped the edits back and showed me the shots that the camera got from being propped up on the sink inside the room. You could clearly see the doorknob turning back and forth. Of course, even though we knew we were the only ones there, it was one of those shots where the audience would probably assume it was faked.
Hence why we would need to get more footage. We just didn’t have enough to go on.