Page 45 of I Do, or Dye Trying
“Same,” Meredith answered. “He was too vague about some things, and I wondered how he could afford to move here when he obviously wasn’t working and said he hadn’t published a book yet.”
“Gabe would be very proud of your sleuthing skills,” I told them.
I too wondered how Emory could afford to travel from city to city to help solve crimes. I seriously doubted that the police departments he helped paid much, nor did I think the television shows that featured him would shell out much cash for his appearances. He was either independently wealthy, inherited some money, or worked from home doing something he didn’t share with the rest of us. Even though I was curious, I would never ask him.
“What does Emory’s background have to do with you looking like a cat on its eighth-and-three-quarters life?” Chaz asked. “Oh,” he said. “He’s had a vision about one of you.”
Mere gasped and sat straight up in her chair then covered her heart as if she was trying to protect it from the truth. “Jazz, is that true?”
“Yes,” I admitted then told them the rest. “I just can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen.”
“Honey, this guy has been on the run for weeks. He would’ve shown up here already,” Meredith said calmly.
“Maybe,” Chaz said. He didn’t sound nearly as confident as Meredith that Gabe wasn’t in trouble. “A guy like him would know how to avoid detection from law enforcement agencies. He’s probably changed his appearance and is using cash he kept squirreled away if this day ever came.” Chaz tipped his head while he thought some more. “Probably even money he’d taken from the evidence locker they’d collected from drug busts, searches, and seizures. Billy did that, and I bet it’s not that uncommon. I mean, here these cops are eking out a living while that money sits in an evidence locker. Hell, I bet most of it never gets tagged into evidence. I think the temptation to resist making their lives a little better would be too great to pass. I doubt he’s fled the country and he’ll be looking for revenge.”
Meredith nudged Chaz with her elbow to get him to shut up after glancing in my direction. Either my thundering pulse was visible beneath the skin of my neck or the veins in my forehead were popping out as my blood pressure soared, maybe even both. Chaz didn’t even notice Meredith’s attempts to get him to shut up and he sure as hell didn’t see me stroking out across the table from him because he was staring off into space instead of looking at me.
“If he thinks Gabe is responsible for ruining his career then he won’t go down without trying to take Gabe with him,” Chaz said. “Or, if he truly wanted to hurt Gabe he’d kill the one Gabe loves most in the world. He’d turn his attention on Josh when everyone focused on protecting Gabe.”
“Charles Bailey!” Meredith yelled. “What-the-ever-loving-fuck is wrong with you?” She followed up her question with a smack to the back of his head, which forced him back to reality.
“Huh?” Chaz asked. “What did I say?”
“Look what you did to Jazz.” Meredith pointed to the tears that ran down my face.
“Fuck! What did I say?” Chaz asked.
“You basically implied that there’s no fucking way that Jimmy De Soto hopped on a dinghy and headed to the Bahamas and that he’s most likely hiding out nearby so he can kill Josh to get back at Gabe,” Meredith recapped.
“I said that?” Chaz asked. “Oh man, I was just plotting for my book out loud more than anything. Damn, Jazz, I’m so sorry I said that to you.”
“Book plotting?” Meredith scoffed. “What, you have a Gabe in your book who also happens to be a cop with an ex-partner on the run from the law who may or may not want to kill him for ruining his career?”
“No, not really, but that’s what I would do if I was writing this scenario in a book. I would have De Soto come after Josh, and I’d do it in a big way, but this isn’t fiction this is…”
A knock at the back door scared the hell out of us and interrupted Chaz before he could finish. In fact, we all squealed high-pitched, girlie noises and jumped in our seats.
“Oh my God!” Meredith exclaimed. “It’s him!”
“De Soto wouldn’t knock, Mere. He’d just kick down the door like Oscar did last year,” Chaz said calmly.
“Like that makes us feel better,” Meredith said hotly. “What’s the matter with you? You start writing some sexy suspense novel with a serial killer and BAM, you turn a little creepy yourself. I can’t imagine what your search engine must be like on your laptop. That’s probably the feds looking for your disturbing ass.”
“Josh, you guys okay in there?” Emory asked through the back door as if he didn’t just hear us all scream like little girls. Meredith was still giving Chaz an ass chewing when I opened the door and let Emory inside the kitchenette. “Is this a bad time?” he asked, looking over at my friends.
“Meredith is ripping into Chaz for misbehaving; same speech, different ear,” I told him, putting a spin on the well-known phrase of same song, different tune. “What’s going on? You sound upset.”
“I have some bad news, I’m afraid,” he said.
“Oh my God! What is it? Did you have another vision? Is Gabe in danger?” I fired one question after the other at him.
Emory placed his hands firmly on my shoulders, and the weight of them kept me grounded when the panic rose so high that I was in jeopardy of floating away. “No, Josh. My visit has nothing to do with Gabe or the vision. I came over to tell you that I’ll be leaving town for a few days, but I’ll be back in time for your wedding.”
I finally got control of myself enough that I saw Emory, my friend, instead of Emory the bearer of bad news. The dark circles under his eyes indicated that he wasn’t sleeping very well. “Is everything okay?” I asked him.
“No, not really,” he admitted, “but I’m going to see if I can change that. I plan on returning Friday in case you need my help before your big day.” Emory pulled me to him for a hug and whispered, “You’ve been a great friend to me, Josh. You can’t possibly know how much that means to me.”
I pulled back and looked into his sad, green eyes. The hug felt like a goodbye despite his promise to return in time for my wedding. If he had plans to run, I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. “Running won’t change anything, Emory. Sometimes we must accept that fate—or a higher power—knows what’s best for us when we aren’t smart enough or brave enough to see it for ourselves. Sometimes you just need to have a little faith.”